Kjon's Audio Diary Log

Feb 30, 2621

Weyland continued to hold me responsible for the destruction of his lab, the prototype, and most of the technology that was in the lab when Mom set it ablaze. I knew for a fact he knew I wasn't the one at fault, but he treated me like it was for those 3 months. He was pissed when he had to rebuild everything Mom had destroyed. Weyland lost a lot of valuable technology from my clan, high value equipment that the lab needed for it's research, and "priceless" xeno assets. Although that last one was chalked up to the marines and not to Mom herself.

But I think the thing that really pissed him off was that the prototype that they were going to use on me had been destroyed along with the notes they used during it's construction. I'm glad it failed, but I still ended up being one miserable suckling for the next three months that followed. As I already mentioned before, they starved me, sent the marines to beat me almost everyday. Back then I didn't know Oomans were so strong. I thought that I could take them, and when I tried the first time, it didn't work out to well. They just beat me harder than normal. I'm very sure I had a black eye for a week after that one.

I didn't know it yet, but apparently some of the marines had some run ins with my species, and while they themselves survived those encounters, with only minor scars and slashes to prove it, some of their buddies on the other hand had not. When my people hunt Oomans its not that big of an issue. Sure Oomans are dangerous game, but when they're persistent to stay alive or take revenge-in this case it was the latter-they can be forces to become reckoned with. And boy were these guys pissed.

During those three months of torture I continued to do my best to follow my mother's teachings. At first I couldn't, I was just too emotionally out of it to even try. Losing her had hit me pretty hard. I was still depressed after that, but I managed to toughen up and get used to the idea that Mom was gone, and that I was going to need to learn to live without her. After month one I'd began to get stronger, and close to month two I was probably the most athletic and physically fit seven year old on this planet. I continued to study my language and English, and I continued melee weapon and hand to hand combat, which is a little bit harder when you don't have a target or a partner to practice with.

Around that time, the marines; Levinson, Daniel, and Weekes, began just being cruel. They began pistol whipping me, and they even cut me with their knifes. I knew these guys didn't like me, but still I was just a seven year old kid. What harm could I do to these guys? Sure they were mad at my species for that they did to them and their friends, but still, that doesn't mean I did any of it.

They'd hold me down as they inflicted whatever their fcked up minds could think. They wanted to hurt me they wanted to make me bleed and suffer, to take every last bit of their hate and spite for my species out on me, a kid who didn't even know what the hell was going on. Finally I began to have enough of their sht and fought back. The first time didn't go so well, as did the fights that followed after. I'd clip those guys a few times and I'd struggle, but it's kind of hard for a seven year old to go up against three guys that are twice his size, two of which are holding him in place while the third is beating him to a pulp.

That's how those guys did it. Before I began fighting back Levinson, Daniel, and Weekes would just beat me. I made no attempt to struggle, I just took it, but afterwards though when I got stronger and fought back, Daniel and Weekes would hold me down grab me by the arms and hold me in place, while their leader Levinson beat me. They also take turns if they felt like it. By the end of month three however, things changed. Daniel, and Weekes held me by the arms, while Levinson did what he normally did to me. After getting smacked across the face about a dozen time with a pistol, he broke out the knife. When he first did that to me I was scared shtless, but by that time he'd done it to me so many times that I just took it as best I could. I didn't try to fight back this time, even when I saw they'd come to do what they were going to do to me.

Weekes made a comment about it being to easy, and Daniel made a remark about them finally breaking me and just letting them stomp me. I was tired of these guys. I wanted to hurt them so badly, but I didn't have the strength or the motivation to do so. I could have probably been able to take one or two of them, but all three... I'd lost so many times it was more painful to lose than to just take it. Daniel, and Weekes were right. I was their btch. At that moment I'd given up and let these guys win. I felt like I'd just let my Mom die for nothing, all that training to defend myself just went to waste. Their insults continued as Levinson continued to brandish his knife in my face. He tried to scare me, but I was to disappointed in myself to be concerned.

I remember telling him to just do it and that I didn't care. That remark stung worse than Levinson's knife. I felt like I insulted Mom when I said that, but thankfully I, made up for it soon after.

"Wohoho this little sht really has given up!" Levinson said.

"Well why stop now man. Let's have some more fun with him!" Weekes replied.

These guys were evil sons of btches.

Then Levinson made the mistake of giving me the motivation and the unbridled rage I needed to put these mothers in their places. I remember the remark he made about Mom exactly.

"You know kid if you weren't such a little disappointment, your btch for a mom wouldn't have had to honor kill herself. I know I would if I was her."

Oh, did that one hurt. That little spark was all that I needed. I let Levinson continued to slice my chest with his knife, but not because I had given up. I was just giving him a head start. I was allowing him to hurt me because the pain was fueling the fire Levinson had started. After a few swipes on the abdomen, I let every bit of anger I had inside me loose. These guy's had had their turns tormenting me. Now it was my turn. I roared, as I stomped on Daniel's foot hard. He was wearing steel toed boots, but my foot connected in such a way where it missed the steel toe and hit the foot. I heard a crunch as I stomped on it. I'd broken his foot. Daniel recoiled as did Levinson, but Weekes like a dumbass held on to me. With my right arm now free, I grabbed Weekes by the throat and proceeded to choke him. He let go of my left arm to try and get my hand of, but all that did was give me another hand to choke him with.

While I was choking Weekes, Levinson took a swipe to my shoulder with his knife in an attempt to try and get me off. It succeeded and I instead focused my anger out on him. I tackled him to the ground, held his hand which he carried the knife with down and began punching him. My first hit left a bruise on his check. Daniel, and Weekes then grabbed my shoulders from behind and lifted me off of Levinson. They threw me to the wall, where Weekes tried to hold on to me, but I managed to grab on to his arm and push him at one of the trees. He tripped on one of the enormous plants roots causing him to fall back and smash his head against the tree that knocked him out cold. Daniel had tried to come to the aid of his friend, but his foot left him impaired so he had to hobble just to get to me. I charged him, threw him against the wall, and began beating him. Daniel was huge, and I mean HUGE, this guy looked like he bench pressed two hundred pound weights every day for fun, yet I-a mere suckling-was beating him into submission. He punched me back a few times, but I just ignored it until he did it hard enough where I glared at him hateful and slammed my skull against his. Our skin split as our heads collided. After that I side kicked his tibial bone. I heard a crunch that time too, and saw the bone sticking out of his leg. He let out an agonizing scream of pain before I clocked him in the mouth spilling some of his bloodied teeth, on the bushes. I then brought my knee up on his crotch, and that was it for him. He sobbed like a pitiful little child.

I felt a sharp pain run on the back of my shoulder, that shot electrically across my body. Levinson had stabbed me with his knife again. He took it out and I recoiled away before he could bring it down on me again. I held the back of my shoulder with my hand and saw my florescent green blood on it. I would have stopped there, but I was to desperate and angry to quit. My body was pulsing with adrenaline so that helped me ignore the pain. My left arm hurt to move, but I sucked it up and kept fighting. Levinson charged with his knife, aiming for my chest, but I managed to jump away in time before it could dig into me.

I landed next to Weekes' unconscious body and took his pistol off of him. I'd seen the marines practice with these things before, so I knew how to operate it. I secured myself, switched the safety off, moved the slide back, and braced my arms for the recoil. It didn't come. I was firing an empty pistol. Levinson looked at me stupidly, and I'm sure he would have smirked at my pitiful attempt to shoot him if he wasn't so pissed off at me. He charged me again. I was stuck between the tree's trunk where the roots began to branch, it was one of those trees where you could see the roots as they branched off the trunk. That left me with no place to move to. All I had to defend myself with was Weekes' empty pistol, but just because I could not shoot with it didn't mean it was useless. I held it in front of my face where the knife was about to fall, successfully shielding myself. The knife got caught between the trigger and the trigger guard. Levinson tried furiously to pull it out but it was stuck. I wrenched the knife from his hands with the pistol, which remained stuck inside it.

With the knife out of his hands I could retaliate. I smacked Levinson in the nose with the pistol breaking it in the process, causing his saw his face open up with red blood that sprayed over the bushes. I leapt off the tree roots I was stuck on and jumped onto his back as he held his bleeding nose. I rode him like a jockey for a bit until he tripped on something and the both of us fell. I managed to get back up and tackle him as he tried to get up. After a few moments of grappling I had him pinned down. Then, in an ironic twist of fate I began pistol whipping him. He tried blocking the blows with his arms, but every time he tried to block I just went to hit something else. He cried and screamed begging me to stop hitting him, but I didn't listen and I just kept swinging the butt of that pistol up and down on his head, and arms. I finally stopped and angrily threw the pistol away. He tried to crawl away, but I caught him and used his overgrown hair to beat his face into the ground. Their is a reason why the marines cut their hair to the point they're almost bald.

After that I flipped him over, and took his pistol off of him. It was a standard use P320-M18 Sig Saurer, with a 17 9mm round magazine. Not bad for what it is but I prefer the Desert Eagle .50 AE

I did what I did before when I was about to shoot Levinson with Weekes gun, only this time I remembered to check the magazine. It was also empty, but that didn't mean he wasn't still packing the ammunition for it. I took one of the magazines off of his ammo belt strung up against his torso. It was loaded, and I put it in the fire arm, racked the slide, put the safety off, and turned the gun on him.

Levinson had been a cruel son of a btch to me in the three months I'd know the jack-off. That also went for his pathetic cronies Daniel and Weekes. They'd done so much to me it, felt good to make them feel the pain I felt. To take revenge on these guys for everything they put me through. As I aimed the P320's sights down at his forehead I could see the look of desperation and terror on his face. I could see it in his eyes. Needless to say, he was scared shtless. I had his very life in the palm of my hands and I was about to take it. I returned his look of fear with the look of merciless rage I my eyes.

Levinson knew what he'd done to me, and he knew he wouldn't be forgiven for it. Why should he have been? He'd beaten a seven year old child to the point where he just wanted to give up and die. It didn't, matter that I came from a race of extraterrestrial hunters that kill with merciless intent, I was still only a kid! A kid who had no idea what was going on! A kid that had done nothing wrong, and yet was being punished anyway! I could understand them hating me for what my species did to them, but to do what they did to a seven years old who had no knowledge of any of it...

Levinson turned his head away, and wept tearfully, as he anticipated the projectiles discharge. I eased my finger on the trigger, but as I looked at the fear and helplessness in his eyes I remembered how helpless I'd been when he and his friends were beating me. I eased my finger, and thought to myself. Had they going so far as to kill me? No but that's because Weyland had told them not to. They were just suppose to torture me. If he hadn't had said that, would they have still done it? Absolutely. But that didn't mean that I was like them.

They'd broken me, so I should break them too, I thought. I turned the pistol down at his knees and popped them both. I then turned the P320 to the ceiling and shot the remaining fifteen rounds into the air with it, letting out an enraged roar of aggression as I did so. The shots rang loudly across the enclosure and the hallways outside. My ears were ringing a little, but not enough to make me go deaf. It was only for a few short seconds and then I could hear again. Daniel and Levinson had held their ears to protect their hearing from the blasts.

I ripped Levinson's bloody hand out of his ear, held him up by his throat, and roared in his face. He saw the look of fury in my differently colored eyes. Needless to say he still knew that I was pissed off, but at the same time I had been merciful enough to spare him even though he hadn't done the same to me. I studied his expression, and simply shook my head. He gasped for air, as I let go of him. I climbed all the way up to the top one of that tree and stayed up on the tallest branch that could support my weight, and let my eyes water for a bit. I didn't cry by I did tear up. Some of the scientists discovered Levinson, Daniel, and Weekes a couple moments later and brought the paramedics in to quickly remove them. Schaefer was there when the paramedics got them out. He saw the aftermath of what had happened and saw me cowering up in the tree holding my wounded shoulder staying as still as possible trying not to be seen, which is kind of hard when your light brown and pale yellow.

I knew he saw me, but I wasn't about to come down and let him beat the crap out of me. Levinson tried to explain what happened to Schaefer in a way that made it look like he wasn't at fault, but Hadrick cut the asswipe short with a roaring command to shut the fck up. He knew what they'd done to me, and he knew why they did it. He also knew that Weyland had told them to do it. But still he didn't see that it was right to do what they did, no matter how they spun it.

Schaefer starred up at me with his usual hard look. I could tell he was wondering what he was going to do with me, given the fact I'd just beaten three of his men to sht, but I could see he wasn't pissed off about it. I could read the sympathetic look on his face as I starred back down at him fearfully. I still didn't come down. Schaefer walked away couple moments after.

I spent a couple food less days and nights alone, thankfully with no one to bother me again, wondering what Schaefer was going to do to me. Schaefer I knew was the kind of guy not to let something like this go unnoticed. He knew Mom, and she'd regarded him as her Hunter Brother, and to see her orphaned son beat three of his toughest guys, who'd been tormenting him for the past three months. Yeah I was pretty sure he was going to do something about it.

Three days afterward I woke up with Schaefer outside my enclosure with a couple of scientists letting him in. I skittered into my hiding spot and sat there. Yes I had just beaten three fully trained marines, but Schaefer was no ordinary marine. His family was legendary to us Yatja. From what mother had told me about the Schaefers, the stories my people told of him and his family stretched for centuries, all the way back to Dutch, when he fought and defeated an elite Yatja hunter. The subsequent members of his lineage that had run-ins with my species, including his brother ,John, all of whom were victorious. Hadrick was no exception to this, only he fought with a Yatja, and not against him, which other members of his family had done before as well. That was another thing our species remembers well about the Schaefers. I was in the midst of an Ooman that came from a long line of Yatja killers, and if they could kill fully grown blooded hunters, what was a suckling like myself to the likes of him. He easily found me in my hiding hole beneath the bushes at the base of the tree's trunk. I thought I was as good as dead at first, but when he began gently waving for me to come out I understood he didn't want to hurt me. He took me out of the enclosure, which felt weird given the fact I'd spent most of my life up to that point inside it, never being allowed to come out, and now I was finally out.

Once we were out of the lab area, Schaefer tried to make some small talk, but he understood, by my submissive look of silence, that I was to scarred of him to reply. He took a knee to make, trying to make himself look less threatening, and assured me things would be alright. He told me he was going train me to become a marine, and do what he could to raise me. He told me that he knew he was not my father, nor did he care if I regarded as such, but he was the Hunter Brother to my Mom, and he would do what he could for me out of respect for her.

This was an unspeakable honor. I was being taken in, and trained by the descendant of Dutch Schaefer. To say I was surprised would be an understatement. I wasn't at all excited for what was about to come. I knew that the remainder of my training would be hard and painful, but to be trained by a Schaefer. Wow!

"Class 4 Xenomorph infestation detected. All marines report to the hangar."

Well that's my cue. Time for me to go.