Underground Facility
Col. Harris was reviewing reports at his desk when his intercom chimed.
He pressed a button.
"Yes, what is it?"
"Two things, sir. One, Jensen and Kirsche were supposed to work on the access doors to the mines today to update the codes. They haven't checked in yet."
Harris grumbled under his breath. Damn civilian contractors, always going AWOL.
"Never mind them," he said coolly. "I'm sure they'll turn up. What's the other thing?"
"Captain Slate, sir. She requisitioned some weapons and a transport. She assured me she had gotten your authorization in advance, and that you had the paperwork, but..."
Harris swore. "Where is she now?"
"From the transport's GPS, it looks like she's ten miles to the northwest."
Harris swore again. Despite his orders, she had gone to the Auriga. Damn women. USM officers probably didn't have to deal with this shit.
"Send out a patrol to meet her," he ordered. He would have her thrown in the brig for this.
There was a crackling sound over the intercom, something scraping and papers fluttering. A scream. Then silence. Harris felt a chill run up his spine.
"Report!" He ordered. "Report, damn you!"
But the intercom was silent. Harris felt sweat form on his forehead. He heard a raspy sort of hiss, and he slowly turned around. His stomach turned to ice. A xenomorph stood before him. Still not fully grown, it was about his height but no less deadly. Saliva and water dripped from its gaping jaws. It seemed to study him. Harris started to back away, but the xenomorph lunged forward and grabbed him, pinning him to the desk. Harris screamed and cursed and struggled, but to no avail. The xenomorph pounded his head against the desk, and his world went black.
Auriga, island crash site
"This is it," Ripley announced as they approached a gaping hole in floor. She paused to scent the air.
"They've been here, but not for a few hours. They're probably headed toward your base, if they're not there already."
"What makes you so sure?" Slate asked. "There must be plenty of places for them to live in the mines."
RIpley smiled darkly. "Doesn't matter. They're like lions hunting zebras. They'll go where the meat is."
Thompson snorted.
Ripley turned to look at him.
"Is something about that funny to you?"
"Just that it would take at least a hundred enemies to overpower our base. Those, uh, lions...would get shredded."
Ripley's eyes narrowed. "What exactly do you think these aliens are like, Thompson?"
The soldier thought for a moment.
"The Captain said they were like eight foot tall dragons. I've wrestled a twelve-foot croc before, so I imagine it's like that."
"Well, you're wrong," Ripley snapped. "Crocodiles are just dumb beasts. They don't have intelligence. All they know is eat, sleep, and shit. But these aliens, these xenomorphs...are something else entirely." She stepped right up to Thompson, unfazed by the fact he was a foot taller than her.
They're smart. Patient. Deadly. They can hide in the shadows or chase you down, slicing your guts open before you even knew what was happening."
Thompson seemed unimpressed. "Eh, sounds like a cassowary," he said, shrugging.
"Sounds like my mum," Davies quipped.
Ripley rolled her eyes, but dropped the conversation. They would learn soon enough.
Smith brought the transport to a stop fifty feet from the motor pool. Lee thought it was overkill, but everyone else was spooked by what they had seen over the cameras. It wasn't so much of a stretch of imagination to think that those chestbursting aliens could have beaten them to the base. Lee tried to radio the base, but there was no answer.
"What, are they all sleeping?" Johner asked.
"I think we're too late," Call whispered.
"So what do we do, then?" Dawson murmured. "The last thing I'd want to do is go in there and find out."
Lee was about to second the sentiment when the radio crackled.
"Lee, can you hear us?"
Captain?" Lee said. "Where are you?"
"We followed the tunnel. Since you can hear me, I guess we're below you somewhere."
"Can you see the access doors?" Lee asked. "I'm not getting any response from Command."
Slate was quiet.
"Captain?"
"No, Lee. We can't see the doors, but that's not the problem. I think we found the nest."
Slate stared at the tunnel walls, which were covered by some sort of black, glassy resin. A little ways away, the resin was overgrown by some kind of organic, pulsing tendrils that laced together to make a solid covering. The team cautiously stepped over the tendrils that snaked across the floor.
Meanwhile, Ripley cast her senses around her. "This way," she said. She pushed some hanging tendrils aside to show an open doorway. A whitish mist spilled out into the corridor.
"Well, we haven't got all day," Ripley said impatiently.
"Ladies first?" Vriess said.
Ripley rolled her eyes and went in, followed by Slate and the others. They passed through a narrow corridor, which twisted and turned. The corridor opened up.
Vriess started to swear, but Ripley clamped a hand over his mouth.
They were standing at one end of what used to be a maintenance warehouse. The walls and floors were all covered with the organic tendrils. Some of them visibly pulsed and writhed. But more frightening were the cocoons plastered to the walls and columns. Each cocoon contained a person, with only the face exposed. Many of them had facehuggers attached to them. The others were either dead or unconscious. In the center of the space was the Queen. She was almost full sized, having gorged on the flesh brought to her by her drones. She was laying eggs, but it was slow since she was not yet fully developed. Most of her drones, on the other hand, had reached full maturity. These ones stood at their full eight-foot height and tended to their queen. When she laid an egg, one of them would collect it and carefully set it near a ready host.
"Fuck," Thompson mouthed. He forgot about the croc he had wrestled. He knew he was no match for these monsters.
Ripley chambered a round in her rifle. "It's slash and burn time," she said lowly.
"But what about the people that got captured?" Slate asked. "Can't we rescue them?"
"There's no way to do that in time," Ripley said. "There's no way we could tell who's been infected and who hasn't before the drones kill us. The best we can give them is a quick death."
Slate was going to argue, but suddenly a jagged blade punched through Davies's ches, slicing through his heart. Blood poured from his mouth, and he lifted off the ground, impaled on the tail of a xenomorph. The others jumped back and fired whatever weapon they were carrying. The xenomorph collapsed in a steaming mass, but the commotion got the attention of the others. They came bounding over, screeching. Ripley slammed another mag into her rifle and chambered it, letting loose a hailstorm of bullets to shred one xenomorph. Thompson roared as he fired a grenade launcher, taking out two more of the xenomorphs in a spectacular explosion of alien guts and fire. Vriess used a flamethrower to burn the hosts and eggs. The queen shrieked in rage, and Ripley recoiled, feeling her pain as she detached from her egg sac. Now fully mobile, the Queen reared to her full ten-foot height and roared. Her razor-sharp talons caught hold of Thompson, and he screamed as his ribcage was slashed open. More drones leapt down from the ceiling, Ripley shot one to pieces before tossing her empty rifle away. She pointed the flamethrower at the next one, but it batted the flamethrower away with its tail and lunged for her. Ripley leapt back and jumped up onto the wall. Her nails punched into the wall and she held on while she drew the pistol with her other hand. The xenomorph seemed to be caught off guard by this human's unusual behavior. It was unprepared for the bullets that punched through the middle of its head and killed it.
The flames from Vriess's flamethrower were consuming everything. The Queen was trying to kill Vriess, but he was able to keep it away with his flamethrower.
"We have to get out!" Ripley shouted.
"Not before I kill this bitch!" Vriess growled. He shot more flames at the Queen, making her screech in pain. But then the flames stopped, because Vriess had no more fuel.
The Queen lunged forward and caught Vriess by the legs. She crushed the power legs, making them useless. Vriess swore. Slate was trying to shoot the Queen, but her rounds were bouncing off of the Queen's exoskeleton. Ripley growled and jumped. She landed on the Queen's back, and she pulled out her other pistol. The Queen roared and tried to scrape her off, but Ripley dodged and pushed the gun against the weak spot on the Queen's head.
"No more killing my friends," Ripley growled. She squeezed the trigger, and the Queen's head burst. Ripley narrowly avoided the spray of acid blood by backflipping off of the Queen. She landed and was greeted by Slate.
"I don't know what you are, but that was awesome."
Ripley laughed. With Slate's help she carried Vriess out and up to the Motor Pool.
They met up with the others in the transport. Lee and Smith were mourning the deaths of their teammates, but they were glad that the Captain had made it back. Smith used an electric saw to free Vriess's legs from the crushed power legs. Vriess looked at them sadly.
"Easy come, easy go," he sighed.
Dawson tended to their cuts and scrapes. Her mood was subdued.
"We were watching that whole fight in the nest," she said. How you had to kill all the people...the hosts...along with the aliens."
"It was the only way," Ripley assured her.
"I know. But it just doesn't seem right."
"With these creatures," Call muttered, "Nothing is ever right."