Been a while, huh? Well, here comes the next part toward the ever-approaching conclusion…

But first of all, it may interest you to know that there's now some artwork of Drake available for viewing in my profile, though I should make it clear that my friend actually drew it (as I have the artistic skills of a dead lemur)

Oh well. Enjoy the chapter!

KILL THEM ALL

The door of the ship slammed shut.

This was it.

The huge, relentless tide of the thousands of Xenomorphs poured down as Drake's Glaive whipped out and he inhaled. He was ready. He'd trained for this since he was 4 years old. And here he was, with his clan brothers, leading them from the front…

"NOW!"

The three Yautja opened fire, the bolts of Plasma shooting through the air as the huge wave of monsters twisted in the air. The blasts hit one after another, exploding in sparks of fire and energy. Repulsively charred black bodies shot through the air as the Yautja leapt atop the ship.

"TAKE THEM DOWN!"

Drake's Smart Disc shot out of his hand, spinning through the air and slicing through the Xenomorphs, acidic blood spraying out as they screamed, the blood melting the disc through to its core.

Flashes from the spears fired by Dachande shot through the air, bursting into the horrible faces of the Xenomorphs as they cried out.

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"Hold on…" Scarface muttered quietly as he heard the screeching monsters outside. Rebecca was lying, anaesthetized, on the table in the Medical Bay. He picked up the Medikit, turning to the girl.

"Not much time…" He picked up the two dagger-like syringes.

"Paya, let us not be too late…"

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"Keep it up!" Deadstreak yelled as he crouched, "Don't stop firing!"

The bolts of Plasma and spears and discs and firebombs continued raining down into the swarm.

One Xenomorph leapt up, only to be struck with a firebomb and burst into flame, falling onto three others.

"Fire!" Drake suddenly realised. "There are flammable barrels all over this hangar…"

A second later, he'd leapt up to throw the firebomb…

And then, they had hit him.

The burst of Xenomorphs carried him back onto the ship, their claws digging into him as his mask flew from his flesh.

"DRAKE!" Deadstreak yelled, slashing at the backs of the monstrosities with his Glaive. "Get off him, you scaly bastards!"

Another Xenomorph leapt into his back, its inner mouth cutting into the flesh on his side and tearing it away with a spray of bright green blood.

Dachande fired his Speargun, sending the creature hurling back, but a second later, two has leapt onto him, one of their tails stabbing him in the side as he collapsed in pain…

They were going down.

Buried under a wave of monsters.

They would die amongst their claws and fangs…

No… Not like this…

Drake struggled, unable to even move under the weight of the creatures, looking up as one of their inner mouths reared back…

It was about to strike.

To end it.

No!

A second later, a wave of Xenomorph erupted off of Drake, hurled back into the other monsters.

Drake stood in the middle, his jaws parting as a Yautja's roar suddenly escaped him.

A second later, his fist plunged into a Xenomorph's stomach. A second after that, it was pulled out, the acid burning at his flesh even as he leapt across the Xenomorphs, throwing the acid-covered organ straight into one of the barrels that lined the room…

A moment later, it exploded. Then another. And another.

The entire room was filled with blazing fireballs as the Xenomorphs screamed, their bodies burning to charred ash in the flames.

They're distracted, Drake realised as the Xenomorphs on the ship turned to see the flames.

"Hit them! Now!"

All three Yautja spun round with their Glaives, cutting through skin, flesh and acid blood.

"The Fire Bombs!" Deadstreak shouted, throwing three of the devices into the crowds of Xenomorphs. "We've got them!"

A moment later, the swarm- or the remaining half of it- shot up the ship, leaping toward them and forcing them down again, backing them into a circle.

"It's no use," Deadstreak gasped. "There's too many."

"He's right." Dachande agreed with him. "Even if Scarface succeeds, we'll be long dead."

"I know," Drake answered flatly, his acid-burned hand gripping the Glaive. "But there's one difference we can make. Just one."

His eyes became angry, filled with a raging fire as he raised the Glaive.

"And that's how many of these miserable bastards we can TAKE DOWN WIH US!"

The three again shot forward, their Glaives ripping through the murderous creatures even as their flesh was shredded…

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"YES!" Scarface shouted, finally removing the mature chestburster from Rebecca's opened chest.

"Game over!"

With one motion, he snapped the Praetorian's neck, ending its shrill screech.

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Drake saw the wave of blackness around him suddenly fall.

The Xenomorphs looked like they'd been stabbed. They each fell back, falling from the ship into the flames below.

He looked around desperately…

There they were. Deadstreak and Dachande.

Lying in their own blood.

Drake ran desperately over to them, ignoring his own shredded body, and kneeled down next to each of them.

They were alive. Injured, but they were alive.

They'd done it.

All he could do, for a long moment, was laugh. He felt dizzy, his head was spinning, and he could barely stand… and he laughed.

"We did it…" He finally breathed, collapsing to all fours.

He looked down, seeing the Xenomorphs' bodies burning away in the flames.

And then…

He saw Yutani's foot right before it struck his face.

Man, Yutani just WILL NOT QUIT, huh? So Rebecca's saved and the Xenomorphs are gone…

So just one guy to fight. Who's super-strong. And Drake's completely drained.

Man, he's screwed…

Next Chapter: The Final Battle!

All Reviews Welcome!