He'd only been alive for little under an hour but Kyle could hear, smell, and see the horrific sights of his new reality vividly. Well not vividly…His eyesight was still developing even in this stage but he was a larva, what else could he expect in the early stages of the Xenomorph life cycle. He was still fresh to the franchise back in his old life and now he was in the claws of one.
They could easily rip him apart, make a meal of him at his current size yet their hold on him was nothing short of a protective embrace. The drone did not squeeze him yet their claws remained firmly around his slithery serpentine body to prevent him from falling. He was fragile. Yes…In this state he was absolutely defenseless. And if those memories he had from James' life before he'd taken it were any indication, the inhabitants of this station weren't going to just accept him with open arms.
For that matter how WAS the station faring? A considerable amount of time passed between when James had been captured and he was injected into their body. It had to be anywhere from 2 to 8 hours…That was too long. Anything could have happened even in the FIRST hour prior to the marines capture.
Where he was taken he soon came to realize, was the ship's lower cargo bay. It was a large breeding ground if many of the cocoons attached to the walls were any indication. Sticky slimy flooring that had been transformed from what would normally have been cold metal paneling was more or less terraformed for the Xenomorphs being born here. HE was supposed to be born here.
The Drone, whom he could not put a name towards finally set him down, enabling him to slither along the soft squishy surface of what he would undoubtedly be calling his home for the next few hours. James probably would have died here. Had he not awoken before his ripening. That reminded him…Was that one girl here. The Marine that was caught along WITH James. Or had she already been ripped apart by the Chest Burster that would undoubtedly have sprung out of her in the same manner.
He was very much aware of his protector, how they remained crouched over him protectively, drool dripping from their jaw or more correctly their second jaw which he always considered a weird tongue design from his film experiences. A deadly part of his new alien anatomy which he realized upon his maturity he would grow one of those too.
Yet his horror of the very creatures he was socializing with, the big Alien Drone at his side was sheltering him. Giving him a very overpowering sense of safety. This feeling would come from all around him. The horrors of the fleshy hive that was converted from the cargo room piling on with cocoons he imagined were filled with Face Huggers that would impregnate more human hosts on this ship, chestbursters other than himself slithering around this nursery made this all just feel too real but he could not detect a hint of humanity in any of them.
That all changed when he turned his head and heard a pained scream that would have left him vomiting if he had still been human. The human marine, whom had been with James in his final moments had their movements suppressed within a strong mucus like webbing that restrained her arms and legs, chest bulging some as something was struggling within her.
The pain from the sound of her vocal range was near unbearable to him as dread rose up within him as a ripping sound could be heard before a Chest Burster sprang out of her body, shrieking out a victorious cry after having broken free of it's fleshy cage. The marine looked on in horror, eyes bulging with great panic before the loss of blood and pain settled in, her eyes losing the light in them as she soon expired while the creature slipped out and away from her corpse.
To Kyle…It felt…normal. His humanity still felt profound horror at having witnessed another human life being snuffed out so quickly, but his new Xenomorph biology was telling him this was simply a part of their life cycle. Humans were…They were precious resources. Hosts that could breed strong Xenomorphs as well as a useful food source for his people.
And then another sound. Shrill and loud…Like a call that was summoning him. It should have had him running for the hills as it were but no. His body, his instincts told him to push forward. He did see a few things that looked familiar however to his old recollection of the alien world that he knew of such as the P-5000 Powered Work Loader which Ellen Ripley used in the climactic ending of the second alien film, as well as a pair of forklifts.
If this place followed the events of the film he wasn't too thrilled about his odds of surviving here. But if it was here, in the hive center of his new alien family then the humans likely would not get close enough to use such a device.
But he wasn't here to look at nostalgia. He wasn't a huge Alien nut to even know what half of the stuff in storage was anyway. What he WAS aware of however, upon looking up to the bulkhead he saw the reason as to his calling. Resting against one of the bulkheads of the ship's lower levels was a Queen Alien in all her glory.
Kyle was so small…so fragile yet she dwarfed the alien Drones who were 7 to 8 feet tall, being behemoths in their own right compared to his former race…The queen was at least DOUBLE that. Towering over everyone, but right now sitting on her Ovipositor it was more like she were looking down at them all from her throne. A crown like crest was formed over her head, wide with several spiked ridges, likely for protection. Her teeth were bared as was most of their species, drooling vicious drool onto the floor. Her feet would twitch as she pumped a fresh batch of eggs which were laid out and received by the Drones. They would undoubtedly find more hosts to bare her children. As Kyle now knew he was one of them.
There was no words that came between the two of them. Her long blade like tail twitched and waved about in the air, though non-threatening in nature. If Kyle knew any better he thought it may have been wagging it at him. Though the feelings he could sense from her were real enough. Love: Unconditional and caring. She did not wish harm on him or his egg siblings and seemingly, he could sense no ill will towards the humans on board the ship.
No. His queen, as that is who she was, merely viewed them as a source of food and host bodies for her growing colony. There was no personal vendetta against his former race, and yet the emotions he had definitely had her inquisitive. Never before had an alien, or at the very least none from her brood been so filled with the emotion she sensed from him.
It was all delivered back to him in stunning detail. She could feel his worry, his anxiety and was quick to reassure him. Not with words but with emotions, feelings of protection. He had a new family now and this was it.
Before he would question it. He was picked up by one of the drones not unkindly. They were careful with his carapace as their claws could easily break through his body and kill him. If they KNEW he'd ever been human than they might well still do it but then weren't they all? At the very least he knew HE was, as was the Chestburster from the female marine.
He'd been set up into a soft cocoon of flesh. There he would be left to wait so that he might be protected while his body grew and developed into a bigger more capable creature. As the queen's love spread through him, he found his wishes to become strong for HER sake. Not just hers though. Everyone within his new sphere of family.
For now all he could do was rest. If the films were anything to go by then he would be patrolling the ship in a matter of hours but he was immensely vulnerable. He lacked the armor like carapace of his older siblings or the reflexes to properly defend himself but the hive already planned in advance for such protective needs. Even within the Cocoon he found that he shared the space with a variety of meats.
Most likely food from the mess hall down in these floors. Mechanics needed to eat too, and going up to the residential and commercial districts of the colony wouldn't make a whole lot of sense. Unfortunately much of what was sitting in his cocoon was uncooked meat. Nobody to prepare it but his bodies immune system should be able to tolerate raw foods more than his human body had, and in such he took to taking a few bites of bloody venison that was at his disposal. He'd need the energy. The fuel to become bigger and with his newly acquired taste buds it wasn't all that bad.
And then he slept. He didn't remember closing any eye lids or feeling exhausted but his body just went into hibernation mode, his serpentine body curling up around itself as dreams of his old life came back to him. Was Dylan coping well with his loss? He most likely given another partner on the force. Kyle didn't have much family back in his old life, most of them lived on the other side of the country so he never mingled very well with them.
He'd never see any of them again. Even in his dreams that gave him reason to stir, to want to wake up from this nightmare. Could aliens even WEAR a police uniform? Could they carry a firearm? That recruit always had something new to say about the species, how they were far more intelligent than most gave them credit for. But one thing he could now refute was the argument of the Xenomorphs lack of emotions. All of his siblings felt it. It simply wasn't as strong as a humans, but it WAS a much more concentrated feeling. A purity that humans couldn't replicate.
All through these dreams, these subconscious thoughts that ran through his mind, his body was likewise undergoing a metamorphosis. His slender body in such a short time frame was growing. Powerful limbs evolving in real time within the safety of his resin based cocoon, body growing longer but gaining physical muscle mass. Tissue becoming harder and replaced with an armor like carapace to protect what was once rather squishy and vulnerable flesh. Much like he'd been as a human he retained five clawed fingers, capable of shredding anything that got within striking distance yet only had four toes on his newly developed feet. The regularly smooth dome of the Xenomorph's head however was different, layered with ridges that gave it a sort of segmented appearance.
His newly developed tail, with a bladed tip much longer and deadlier than his drone brethren would cut through the cocoon in his restless sleep. Striking at whatever it could as his dreams while peaceful became a horrific nightmare.
There Kyle was. Staring at the eyes of his killer. The purse snatcher that had been so eager to claim his life in their bid to escape. He remembered having a brave face upon his death but he wanted so much to fight back. And when his tail tore into the resin mold that kept him contained the dream abruptly ended with that very appendage cutting through his killer's chest in a bloody fashion. Yet none of the passersby even flinched at his sudden transformation.
It took him a few minutes to shake himself out of that state. He'd been sleeping…for who knew how long. One clawed hand reached up and rubbed his temples, feeling for the sweat that was not there that he'd normally have from such nightmares.
Wait…Hands…?
His vision had become much more clear as well. He had no visible eyes one could see but that did not mean the sense was not there. Everything was in such a clear detail although with a bit of a bluish tint that seemed to pulse whenever movement was picked up. Or was it sound?
With his newly developed hands he would tear his way through the remnants of his cocoon and glanced at his home. The hive he was now part of. Occasionally another pulsing motion would show up like a blip in his vision but whenever he turned towards the source he would find it was simply another drone, crawling around the hive.
They all looked small though. By Kyle's new height he could distinguish himself being at the very least a foot or two taller than his much more established brothers and sisters and yet he towered over them. He wasn't the tallest man as a human but he was well built at least. THAT carried over in his new life. But then James was a trained colonial marine and from Kyle's knowledge, Xenomorphs would take up traits of their human hosts. It helped that they were all naturally tall.
So maybe that was it. James was exceptional. He may have died young but considering the difference of his physical appearance compared to the other drones in the hive, his host held something a bit more special. The genetic material necessary to breed a Warrior. A powerful specimen that was much more deadlier than the drones of his family, but he was still nowhere near the physical prowess of a Queen. HIS Queen.
His foot steps were small at first. He had been shot before, and was a slithering serpent the next time he woke up. He had to relearn how to walk. How to move with a body that was packed with as much strength and agility that he was now blessed with. And all of it to serve the betterment of the hive. With how many times he nearly fell on his face though he would look more harmless than the killer he was born to become. But…Did he really want to kill humans?
If he had to he'd rather only target the ones that are turning on their own kind. The ones that will treat their own as an obstacle and wouldn't hesitate to kill their own.
None of his fellow Xenomorphs made fun of his missteps however. Most continued on their own business to explore the ship and others offered silent encouragement through a single strand of emotion he could feel through their interlinked connection. Including of the Queen, who through her feelings relayed her insistence that he could do it.
Kyle would use that network for his own benefits. If they all communicated through a hive mind system then he could use their positions to find other humans himself, as well as learn how to avoid them. But first things first…he needed to get used to walking again.
What started as minutes eventually turned to half an hour. He saw new siblings crawling from their cocoons and setting off on their task faster than he'd started and was growing more than a little irritated until he decided to follow their lead. Crouching down, he placed his palms on the floor and started pacing his way out of the ship's cargo room. It felt more comfortable. He should have tried this from the start but his silly human pride, which he undoubtedly kept in his reincarnation got in the way.
The Facehugger that carried him probably never thought they'd have birthed a clumsy Xenomorph warrior but that was what he was. His first order of business was to find prey…Any prey. The air vents were a good start. As brave as James' whole plan to seal the lower floors had been, he just did not understand the Xenomorph's adaptability. At best he afforded the humans above a few hours at best. Time already long since gone if the smell of death was anything for Kyle to go by.
Air vents carried many scents. And sounds considering how his 'radar' was picking up every bump his limbs made in the cramped steel tunnels. He'd have to learn how to get used to that, or learn how to drown out certain noises so that he could filter out what was an aggressor and what was harmless such as the idle air conditioning that would blow from the vents, providing a cool breeze against his tough carapace.
When he finally came to a stop, Kyle would peer through steel gratings that barred his way to gaze at what might be. He was in a very commercial looking area…Perhaps a shopping plaza for the people of the colony? But there were no sounds save for the idle adverts that were being played over some of the monitors. Other than that, no sign of human life.
Sure that he wouldn't give anyone a heart attack by his entrance, Kyle would cut through the grating like butter with his new powerful bladed tail and crawl on out of the crawl space hissing out his victory. What he saw now that he was ABOVE the ground brought another pang of terror through his mind.
Blood, lots of it. Some actively flowing from recent kill victims. A couple sitting at a park bench had their skulls bit into, likely from the alien's powerful second jaw, the look of pure horror in their eyes in their last moment sent a chill through Kyle's entire body.
Children were nowhere to be seen, though occasionally he would find a children's plush strewn about on the floor. Half eaten food left on tables, bloody footprints rushing from the sight which by their solidity had to have been at least 3 or 4 hours old. It was pandemonium here. Turning his head, Kyle saw the sign of a fast food burger joint with it's lights still on, yet nobody was manning the counter behind it. {Xeres Station Burgers} Was the name of the vendor.
That was where he was. A derelict station called Xeres. WHERE in the solar system it was Kyle wouldn't know unless he somehow found his way to the station's control room to look at the ship current location. What he COULD see however…by the light he was gleaning from one of the large glass windows of the shopping district was a large reddish, orange planet. He didn't know WHAT was on it, or where it was but he could make out some bodies of water from the planets rotation.
Then he heard a scream that made him jump.
"No! NO NO NO! Get away from me you…you beast…!"
It was a middle aged man, balding from the looks of it wearing a green sweater vest. Short and plump, he was hiding behind a news stand, a pistol in hand though Kyle couldn't gleam the model by look alone from where he was standing. What he COULD see however was the Drone that was stepping inch by inch ever closer to the man, jaws opening, drool dripping as it hissed towards it's prey.
"No…No I won't go! I won't become one of those…Those THINGS! You can't make me!" The man was doomed, but he fired one shot that hit the Drone in the shoulder, simply bouncing off it's carapace before the creature leapt at the man. There was another shrill scream as the man's arms flailed in sight then went still.
Judging from what Kyle could sense from his drone brethren they had not killed the man, but strangled him by the neck to incapacitate him before they started dragging his limp body away. The poor fool would be taken to the nest where one of the queens eggs would hatch. They would meet the same grisly fate as James' had. The only difference was his death would not lead to anything more noble than to increase the numbers of the hive.
Dear god…Could he really bring himself to do the same thing? Could he find humans and bring them to their deaths? And on that note WHY were they even on this ship to begin with. Aliens didn't just manifest out of thin air and now he wanted to know who or what put them here and for what purpose.
Suddenly that Alien Isolation game he'd been playing the day before came to mind. The station reminded him a lot of Sevestapol. Only Amanda Ripley was nowhere to be seen. At least…he HOPED she wasn't. He didn't want to meet ANY of the Ripley family otherwise he'd be dead. But he did want to get to the bottom of this and rescue those that he might be able to find.
Then the thought came to him. He needed information…That human was hiding behind the newspaper cabin…Maybe they'd have info on today's date. He padded towards the poorly maintained shop stall and grabbed the closest paper he could get his claws on. He may be only a few hours old but he retained his ability to read. He knew the Alien franchise took place in the future, far away from HIS time but to see it labeled out on black ink on a news article called {Space Odyssey Newsweek) He saw the date clear as day… March 12…2213.
There it was. It was like a bombshell had dropped on the newly formed Xenomorph. 200 years…Almost 200 years into the future. If Kyle held onto ANY hope that he might see his friends and family again, they were thoroughly squashed with that revelation alone. Here he was in the future! Anyone from his old life was long dead now. And if he met any of their descendants they'd probably shoot first and ask questions never.
The thought did nothing to improve his mood. He shook his head in a very human like gesture so he knew that part of him definitely still existed but how MUCH of it still remained?
*TSK* *TSK* *TSK* Kyle's footsteps made a very audible clacking sound when his claws met the metallic floor. He was out in space. The final unknown journey for the human race of his time and yet he had the feeling the people in this era took it for granted. Past tense for many of the stations residents. Who may still be alive but stray residents and military personnel?
His foot falls were heavy and full of power and his gait slight, as if a cub walking among lions trying to prove itself amongst it's elders. They eventually led him to a communal shower room. Most of the humans that lived aboard this colony must have lived in a Co-ed situation, not unlike how it was back during some of Kyle's old police academy training days back in the dorms.
His vision pulsed again. Not because of his sudden contact with the Ceramic tile that was common apparently even in the bathrooms of the future, but because of the low panicked breathing he picked up in one of the stalls furthest from the door. Was it a man? A woman? He didn't look at the sign up front to take notice but he was the only one of his kind to check this place. WHY he came into here of all places he didn't know but his impulse…his instinct had him investigate the sound.
To him, each foot step was just a casual step but to whomever was hiding from him it must have been a living nightmare they just wished to wake up from. Their breathing quickened, even as they tried to muffle it with their hand to their mouth but then their heart rate picked up, creating a drumming effect in Kyle's vision that disoriented the warrior.
It was an irritant, but he forced himself to remember that this was his reaction when he'd first played Isolation. He was always frightful of the Alien tethered to the players position. And now HE was as that very monster, hunting down the survivors aboard a similar station.
One great clawed hand grasped at the door. Gripping the tiny door handle and giving it a tug. At first it wouldn't budge…whomever inside must have been holding it for dear life but he would persist. If he didn't, would his brethren turn on him? None came to check on him so far despite the apparent distress that was in the room.
He eventually grew tired of the fruitless struggle and yanked with all the strength his body afforded him, practically yanking the door off it's hinges and forcing a young man, a teen by the looks of it to drop down at his feet. Their eyes looked so alive that they scared Kyle. The boy was shaking, looking at him in silent dread before pushing against him and crawling away from the stall.
Immediately, Kyle lifted a clawed hand. Trying to get the human to settle, to quiet themselves as he put his finger to his drooling jaws.
All this did was elicit a shout of terror from the young man who now rolling onto his hand and feet started trying to make a beeline out of the stall. "Please! Please let me go! Don't kill me!"
The shrillness in their voice startled even Kyle and yet this one just would not go quiet. That made this harder for him. The pleading resonated with the old police side of him that just wanted to help this poor kid. Save them from this horror. But was there really an escape out of this situation? Could he even convey such a thing to them?
He'd try. The Cop turned Alien opened his jaws and released a hissing sound that sounded louder, more intimidating than his prior attempts. He promptly clamped his jaws shut when he saw his efforts not only bared no fruit…But they also seemed to only quicken the boy's escape out of the bathroom!
He watched them, watched them run off and away from the bathrooms and thought for a moment maybe they might just get out! But Kyle could sense another presence in the food court. It was one of his siblings. A drone, and it followed the teenager right on out of the court from the roof. He didn't SEE what happened next, but he did hear it.
"Gyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
If only he hadn't hissed. Kyle put a hand to his jaw and felt the slime oozing from it coat his fingertips. So he can think like a human and even form sentences, at least within the realms of his thoughts. But he could not articulate it into physical speech. Good to know, but that experiment cost the life of yet another human. The Alien whom caught his query sent him a mental nod, indicating a successful catch of the hunt.
Maybe they assumed he scared the boy purposefully? He was big and terrifying so maybe that was it.
Kyle wasn't satisfied with that explanation yet however. He walked into that bathroom for a reason and now he would find it. No light had been on in the room and yet he could see perfectly fine, like night vision mode just naturally switched on whenever he was in a dark room. He could see each stall cleared out…Empty, though some personal items were strewn about. His objective, now that the pulse had quieted down was the mirror.
From it's reflection he could see just how truly terrifying his visage was. He needed to crouch down a bit to get a full view of his body but…there it was…massive and ebony…Hell just bony…He could see his ribcage! Maybe he didn't need that much in the way of nutrition or maybe he was malnourished but he couldn't remember any alien that didn't have it's ribcage showing.
He'd wipe some excess drool off his lips but his body would just continue to secrete the vicious liquid even though he did not hunger. His large head, grotesque to the human inside of him but to his newly acquired instincts he seemed perfectly fine. The ridges on top signifying his position in the caste as a Warrior Xenomorph. His entire body screamed dominance and power.
THAT was why he was complimented he realized. His fellow Xenomorphs respect him because of his position in their hive. He was a Warrior, most of the others were drones and such would afford him the proper respect wordlessly.
It reminded him of the brown nosing of his subordinates back in Detroit. Except he knew the Aliens in the hive weren't doing it hoping to impress him. They were simply giving credit where credit was due, and following a pecking order of which he was…while not at the top he was certainly above many of his siblings.
It gave Kyle an extra boost in his self esteem. But he didn't exactly WORK for it. It's not like his job as a police officer where he worked his butt off to climb the corporate ladder of the force. He was BORN with this. Maybe it had to do with his being reincarnated. Luck just seeemed to deem him the one worthy of being born in James' body.
Looking himself over in the mirror however…He could see the phantom of his former self. One clawed hand reached up to his face and yet on the other side it was him, still human brushing his hands along what used to be a humanoid face. He always did prefer to be clean shaven but this…He was letting it all sink in.
He was an Alien Warrior. A warrior with the mind of a human. He just couldn't let that part of him go. The screams of that man and the boy rang in his mind. He couldn't save them and he'd have to learn to accept that. What he COULD do however was work on rescuing whatever people he COULD. And capture those he believed weren't worth saving.
Giving his past self one last glance in the mirror, his resolve grew stronger. He turned his body around, his tail slapping the mirror and shattering it behind him as he stepped out of the room. His old self was gone. He couldn't go back to it, but now that he was sure of himself. Sure of who it was he would become, his stride back out was much more prideful.
His gait was one of power and even a bit of arrogance. He was a killer, an alien Xenomorph that was to be feared and respected by all. And he'd use every bit of that notoriety to carve out his place on this station, in this world. The Drones in the court scattered, as if his presence demanded it. There was a lot to do on Xeres.
Find humans and designate them under 2 different categories. Rescues for those he deemed were worth saving and trying to protect. The second was fodder, humans who would step on other humans to further their goals. Kyle would offer every one of them up to the hive or kill them himself. Now to get started on his search. There were humans to hunt, and a mystery that needed some solving. Each foot fall of his made a resounding thud with each step he took. Walking on two legs no longer felt so clunky when his purpose felt so clear. A resounding hiss coming from his jaws that echoed down the hall of his next patrol route and he knew just from some of the echoes of his peculiar sight that SOMETHING was down that corridor.
It was only a matter of knowing what it's purpose would be.
Further on along that hall. There were indeed a small group of humans huddled up with one another. 4 of them in fact. Two looked the body builder muscle types in military uniforms, both men were carrying AK47's strapped along their chests. Both had a tattoo with the number's 47 and 48 on their bicep respectively. Their main distinguishable traits were that one of them had a buzz cut while the other had a blonde flat top.
The third was by all means as normal as they came, flat black head of hair, white skinned and as alert as his other cohorts. He wore no military uniform or weapon that would denote any sort of position in the military save for the standard issue sidearm holstered at his hip. The only thing that indicated any difference between the other 2 was the occasional white glare in his eyes, power cycling through him, as it did for all Synthetic humanoids. His black hair was braided into a ponytail that just barely obscured the Weyland Yutani logo of his company.
He was the lead in this operation. His name was Lars. No last name given, no last name wanted. He simply worked. He had a directive, though the directive was starting to sicken him. He was the most senior personnel of the three of them.
Four of them actually.
The last member of this motely crew of officers was not really an officer at all, quite petit compared to her team though she did have the same arms training and self defense under her belt. She wore a uniform similar to Lars but with an extra bit of lettering on her shirt with the words "Xenobiology division" Stitched right under the logo. She most definitely wasn't military. Her smooth black hair hung down to about shoulder length. Her green eyes were fixated on a log entry that she found on the corpse of a crewman that took shelter in the break room.
Judging by the boxes strewn about…They didn't seem to do any good. The Aliens could crawl through the ceiling and floor vents to overcome obstruction of the doors. They just happened to muscle their way through with a few toys from the engineering division. But they couldn't stay here too long or the noise they'd made would find them out.
That's why Jill. The young Biologist expert had rigged a few pulse generators to some of the doors down the hall. Any Xenomorph's within a 20 meter radius of the hall would pick up on those pulses while obscuring the sound they made here.
Only problem was her supply of such things were limited and soon she'd be all out of tricks to fool the infestation that was running amok on the ship. Why she of all people had to be stuck on board when the lockdown went into effect she and her two buddies Roger the flat top and whom after meeting aboard the ship she simply came to call The Sarge.
"So? Any relevant data on this one? Or do we need to start moving to another route?" Lars asked, somewhat impatiently though his face remained impassive.
"A few interesting bits here and there." Jill reassured him, clicking on a few buttons on her communications device, storing the information from the crews data pad to her own. "The last non emergency log was 14 to 16 hours ago. The ship was running in full operational order then. Nothing out of the ordinary. But then we get past that and the last entry into his own log book was about 10 hours ago."
"So the bugger lasted 6 hours after the breakout?" Roger never took his hand away from the barrel of his rifle. If anyone else were to describe him it would be jumpy. But Jill liked it that way. It meant he was alert, and if anything was amiss he'd be the first to sound the alarm.
"Not necessarily." She continued. "We only know that there is a 6 hour gap between the last regular post and this one…Which is more erratic. But judging by rigor mortis I'd say he's been dead at least 8 or 9 hours at the very least."
She cleared her throat once before reading it aloud. "I can hear the voices outside. They're screaming, agonizing. Those things…what are they? They look like giant alien bugs. I've barricaded myself in this room but I can't stay here forever. Oh dear God the screams. Someone save us all."
It sounded like gibberish but to Jill she understood the fear in the poor man's words. She only stopped and held up a finger for her companions to be quiet as the loud clacking of footsteps could be heard down the hall. A large, tall humanoid figure stopped by the break room door and seemingly peered through it.
Just then Jill's enthusiasm and terror spiked. She was seeing a real live Xenomorph. It was staring RIGHT at her, but just as she thought it might move in to pounce on them it walked along. Whether it saw them, or her signal jammers scrambled it's senses she didn't know. But she knew one thing for certain…She and her crew needed to get the hell out of here.
Her directive however wouldn't simply allow that. And Lars wouldn't either. The Crew didn't have the relevant data they needed but they couldn't move now. They had to wait…Wait as the foot steps of their natural predator passed them in search of what was undoubtedly it's next victim.
"And suddenly it feels like I'm playing the game all over again…" She muttered, quietly under her breath as the memories of her past life began flooding into her mind again. Of a time before she she was a respected scientist in her field...