Smith brought the transport to a halt about a hundred feet from the Auriga. Cpt. Slate divided the group into two teams. She was going with Ripley, Viress, Thompson, and Davies. The others were to stay with transport to make sure nothing unwanted got on board. Lee activated a set of cameras and headsets, distributing them to the outgoing team.

"Just to keep in touch," he said, setting up some monitors and sliding on a headset of his own. He saluted. "Good luck, Captain."

The team picked up their gear and headed out, all senses on alert as they approached the wreckage of the Auriga. There was a yawning gap that led to the interior, but it was dark inside. Thompson and Davies flicked on the spotlights on their helmets, and the others activated the flashlights strapped to the bottoms of their rifles. Slate activated a motion tracker and scanned for movement. There was nothing.

"Don't let that fool you," Ripley said ominously. It's gotten people killed before."

"What do you mean?"

Ripley smiled. "Just remember: that screen is two dimensions. We exist in three."

Slate wanted more of an explanation, but they were walking into the wreckage now. Silence would be key if they didn't want to attract any unwanted attention.

Lee's voice crackled over Slate's headset. "Doing a vision check, Captain. Please look at Vriess."

Slate complied.

"Thank you. Looking good, Vriess."

"Yeah, you look like a fucking transformer!" Johner horned in.

Vriess grinned, only making a rude hand gesture.

Slate shook her head, reminded of the banter of her own men. Her face hardened. She was determined to find them.

The team made their way through the darkened interior of the ship, taking care to step around holes and fallen debris. There was no sign of life, either human or alien. But Ripley new better.

She could sense the presence of Xenomorphs, but they were few...maybe six or seven. The queen was old enough to breed now. She would grow quickly, and the drones would be making the nest ready, stockpiling it with hosts. If her past encounters were any indicator, the nest would be somewhere dark and damp, but spacious enough for the queen and her eggs. Ripley spoke quietly into the headset.

"Lee, can you run a scan of the wreckage? Which part of the ship are we in?"

Lee was quiet for a moment.

"Looks like the forward half of the ship, or most of it. You're going into the back...what would have been the middle."

Ripley paused, thinking. "Then the only place suitable enough for a nest would be the command deck."

"And how would you know that?" Slate asked.

Ripley laid a hand on the wall next to her. "Because this was my home." Though no one asked her to, she automatically moved to the front of the group to lead. Thompson offered her a flashlight for her rifle, but she declined. She didn't need to see to know where she was going.

She led them along long corridors that had doors on either side. Crew quarters, Ripley explained. Then they passed through the gym, and then through the Medical Bay. There were tools and pieces of equipment strewn about on the floor, which glinted in the light. From the Medical Bay, they climbed a flight of steps, crossed an unstable catwalk, and finally came to the command deck. The door was jarred open by a fallen bulkhead. Ripley paused. "There's something here," she said. She breathed deeply, scenting the air. "It's human."

Slate nodded to Thompson and Davies, who brushed past Ripley to get through the door. Their lights pooled together to sweep the area, which was pitch black. Their lights swept across broken monitors and overturned chairs and scattered papers. Something clattered from the shadows, and everyone whipped around to train their guns on the source of the sound.

"Stand down!" Slate ordered. "It's Wilson!"

Everyone lowered their weapons as Slate rushed over to crouch beside Wilson. He was unarmed and haggard, his eyes wild with fear. There was a large gash across the side of his face, like he had been clawed by a large animal. He looked at Slate with wide eyes. "Captain? Is it really you?"

"Yes, Wilson," Slate assured him. She laid a hand on his shoulder, and he broke down.

"I tried to call for help, but the radios were down and the comms up here are dead and then there was -"

"Wilson," Slate said firmly," I need you to get a hold of yourself. Can you do that?"

Wilson took a long, shaky breath. He nodded.

"Now, where are the others?" Slate asked. "Where is Doakes?"

Wilson swallowed. "Doakes is dead. They're all dead."

Slate stepped back. She seemed to deflate. Doakes had been her nephew. How was she going to break the news to his mother…

She was startled out of her thoughts when Wilson suddenly grabbed her pistol from its holster. Thompson and Davies rushed at him, but he trained his gun on them. "Stay back!" He screamed, his eyes wild again.

"Wilson, what are you doing?!" Slate barked, back in command mode. "We're here to help you!"

"No one can help me," Wilson said mournfully. He pointed the gun at his head, then lowered it to his chest. "Now run, before no one can help you." He screamed as a screeching chestburster ripped through his ribs, but he managed to squeeze the trigger and empty the magazine into the alien and himself.

"Fuck," Johner said over the headset.

And everyone agreed.

Slate regarded Wilson in shock. A lone tear leaked from her eye, but she forced her emotions back. Her men were dead, and that was that. "I guess that means there is no priority one." She murmured. "But I don't see any nest."

"That's because there isn't one yet," Ripley said grimly. "Which means the drones are still looking for a place to make it."

She looked at the floor thoughtfully, kicking the metal deck with her boot.

"Hey, Lee, you there?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Run me another scan. This time check the ground beneath the wreck. I have a hunch, but I want to make sure it's right."

"What's the hunch?" Slate asked.

"Your base is set up in an old mine, right?"

"Right."

"And what do mines have?"

"Tunnels?"

"Yes, tunnels, Ripley said pointedly. She kicked the deck again. "Miles of tunnels, all underground."

Realization dawned on Slate. She swore. "I hope you're wrong."

"Unfortunately, Captain, she's right," Lee chimed over the headset. I'm seeing a large tunnel directly below the Auriga."

"Shit," Vriess spat.

Slate paused, making a decision.

"We're going to have to split up," she said. Lee, I want you and your team to head back to base. Warn them. Put the base on lockdown. How you do it - I don't care. But seal the access doors to the mines."

"Got it, Captain. But what about you?"

"We're going to take the tunnels on foot, heading to the base from underground. If we're lucky, we'll run across the alien bastards and kill them on the spot."

"Okay. Good luck, Captain."

Slate looked at the others with her. "Now, who's ready for a ten mile run?"

Vriess grinned as he took off on his mechanical legs. "I am. Let's go, ladies!"