The soldiers stood in the barrack's canteen, looking at Colonel Marker, who was standing in front of them. He had previously held a small speech to inform them of the threat they were facing up against.
Nobody had expected something like this to happen. Everyone had thought the Xenomorphs to be safely contained.
Hell, these creatures weren't considered a threat, but a valuable possession, to be protected.
Only Weyland's completely made up tale of an Alien attacking two soldiers brought the reality crashing back into the minds of the humans assembled in this room.
The surface of the planet was still dark, even though sunrise was going to be at 7 a.m., at 6 it was still dark.
The extraction ship was still four hours away, and his ride to safety another five.
If the extraction ship got here first, it would probably be over. For him as well as for Cromwell.
He had to play along.
The Colonel was frantically trying to reach the two men he had sent to repair the generator. He feared for the worst, and so did Weyland.
They must've run into the Xenomorph.
And so they had.
Paul had woken up, on Akkan's shoulder. The Xeno had hidden himself behind a pile of card board boxes, as he heard voices.
So terribly close.
What's that? Fear crept into Paul's thoughts.
Soldiers. They were at the generator.
"There's something wrong here. I can feel it. Someone's here. HELLO?"
What's wrong? Paul clutched the Xeno's shoulder.
Ah crap
Hearing the Xenomorph curse in its mind made Paul smile
What is it?
They didn't hear me, but they can feel me.
They can feel your mind?
Everyone can feel my mind. It's one of the downsides of your … treatment. Akkan lifted him from his shoulder, and set him down.
Jeez, what are you doing!
Setting you down Akkan replied innocently enough.
The soldiers had stopped in front of the cardboard mound.
"You can stop hiding! We're not here to hurt you."
Let me. I'll get rid of them.
Don't, Akkan. I'll talk to them.
If they do anything, I mean anything to you, I'll kill them. The voice of the xeno was without sarcasm or irony, but filled with steely determination
A light clicked on, illuminating the pile of boxes, and Paul Cromwell walked out from behind him
"It's just me! I was on my way to the loo, but got lost!"
"Who are you? Identify yourself!"
"Dr. Paul Cromwell, of the xenobiological unit!"
"Dr. Cromwell leading the xenobiological unit? The successor of Dr. Schulz?"
"Exactly." Paul attempted a warm smile "What happened to the generator?"
"That doesn't matter. You are officially under arrest!" The soldier moved a step forward, and Paul stepped backwards.
"Hey, this has to be a misunderstanding! I didn't do anything wrong!"
"It is for your own safety!"
Get down.
"What?"
I said get down. Now!
He heard a hiss behind him, from the pile of cardboard.
"What's that? Who's the-"
A blow to his back knocked Paul from his feet, and sent him flying.
He heard the unearthly screech of Akkan, and then a squelching crash, a scream, and the low thud of a body falling to the ground.
Another screech, and a then the crack of a gun.
A dull pain ripped through Paul's shoulder, and stars exploded in his field of vision.
Akan screeched again, and another squelch and a thud, followed
Paul! Are you all right?
Yeah, I think I am. You hit me. And your tail must've probably lashed at me.
No, my tail is right here, with me. Actually, it's stuck in this guy's head, but never mind that.
He heard the xeno turning around and moving towards him. He tried to get up, but his arms and legs would not listen.
There was a searing pain in his shoulder, and he suddenly felt something warm flow over his chest.
You're hit… The Xenomorphs mind was suddenly thick with worry
It's probably just a scratch. Paul felt more warm stuff flow across his chest, and then, to his horror realized it must be blood.
It's not a scratch. I might not know much about this world, but I know things about prey. And that's not a scratch.
Paul started to shiver. It's getting cold…
It's not. You're just imagining things. The temperature hadn't changed at all.
The scientist started shivering uncontrollably
Akkan… His voice started to weaken.
Yes, I'm here… And such a sadness washed over him.
I wanted to tell you so much… but there's no time
Don't die on me! Oh please don't!
But there was no reply.
Akkan still felt Paul's heart beating. He was alive, but his breath was going shallow.
Frantically, the xenomorph pressed his talon on the bullet wound. There was so much blood seeping out of the hole. So much sweet blood leaking on his talon.
Sniffing the blood, he felt a primal urge sweep over him, almost taking him with him.
When he had come to his senses, he had hovered over Paul, his inner maw already extended, and close to the bullet wound.
What should he do? He didn't know what to do.
Lifting Paul up, he lay limply in his arms.
He needed help, badly, but he could only devour, not repair.
Where should he go? Who could he find to help?
He had to find the Weyland human.
But then the hunger got too much.
He unceremoniously dropped Paul to the floor, and started to tear the intestines from his recent kill.
Weyland had acted fast. Once Marker had dispatched a squad down to the generator, to get power back.
In the meantime, he had dispatched Marker. Well, not exactly. He'd actually just hit him over the head, and deposited him in the toilet.
He had to find Cromwell. Tell him about the situation
And, he had to think up something to get from this barren rock, without either Paul or the Xenomorph falling into his opponent's hand.
They were his bargaining pieces, when he reached earth.
If he reached earth.
With the extraction ship due, his friend would not dare to enter the planet's atmosphere.
The Smuggler would not come and get them, he would fear for his safety, and rightly so.
But that left him marooned on this planet, and he hadn't exactly made himself popular with colonel Marker. He hadn't made himself popular with most people on this base.
Pulling his coat about him, he walked out of the barracks.
Nobody stopped him, because nobody noticed him leaving.
He was like a shadow in the darkness.
Slinking out into the corridors, he jogged towards centre of the station
Slowly, light crept over the surface of the planet.
Soon, the sun would rise, and then the shit would hit the fan. They had no time, and Weyland had no plan. Not a single idea how to get off this station.
"Cromwell? Akkan?"
He hissed the two names into every maintenance shaft he had found, but no avail. There was no response.
The station was huge.
That was until he came across the bodies of two soldiers. There was blood on the floor, so much blood.
Their heads had been run through, and Weyland knew what sort of weapon caused it
The inner maw of a Xenomorph. They had been here.
Or Akkan had betrayed them, and freed his kin.
He went on.
It turned out, he didn't need to find the Alien.
It found him.
He heard the heavy footsteps behind a closed door, and within seconds, Weyland was standing in front of a live Xenomorph.
He didn't even have time to grab his gun, the creature grabbed him and roughly pulled him into the room.
"Oi, let me go!" he exclaimed, but the Xenomorph had other ideas. Eventually it did let him go, within a cramped storage locker.
On the floor in front of him lay Paul Cromwell, in a pool of his own blood.
Akkan had found the Weyland human, and dragged him to Paul.
Now he fought with himself to let the man at the scientist.
Sniffing him, he deduced the scent was truthful, and stepped back.
After exclaiming loudly, he bent down to Paul, and started to do something, which made the scientist twitch
He was close to death.
Weyland's hands were covered in the sweet human blood.
The smell of it made Akkan's senses reel. He had to concentrate. Concentrate on something to take his mind off his belly's need.
He thought about his and Paul's escape through the maintenance shafts. His skin was very very soft, Akkan had noticed so as he had accidentally landed on Paul's belly.
Man. He'd like to do that again. Lying on Paul made him happy.
Staring at Weyland, who was trying to still the bleeding by the aid of his scarf, he wondered who, or what this man was.
Weyland worked without so much as slight whiff of fear. He was not anxious or scared, not even when he was staring over his shoulder. It would've sent most humans into a fit of fear, but Weyland showed no signs of it.
He worked with precision, tying a bandage around Paul's damaged shoulder, pulling it tightly.
Red blood started to seep through it, but seemingly it had slowed the bleeding.
"Akkan, I know you can understand me. You might not want to answer me, but believe me, I'm here to get you two out of here. But your friend needs medicine. He is very weak. I will take him to the medical wing, but I can't take you with you. "Akkan listened intently. He had no reason to reply to Weyland, but as far as he was concerned, the human was talking sense. "Take up into the ventilation shafts. You can follow me, but stay out of sight." As if to emphasize his point, he pointed up.
Akkan snorted, and dived into the ventilation system.
He heard Weyland, with Paul slung over his shoulder, leave the room and get into the corridor. The xeno followed. Every few feet or so, there was a metal grille set into the ventilation shaft, where he could look down, ever so often glimpsing the form of Weyland, as he hurried into a direction
But he didn't need to see the humans. He felt them all around him. Vibrations in the air. Noises. Scents. Heat.
And it tempted him. Yes, it tempted him. It would be easy to sneak into one of their nests and pick them from their sleep.
But the image of Paul finding out, and turning him away, got stuck in his head, and so he just ravaged a freezer in a human's quarter.
The strips of meat within made him feel a little more filled up, and thus calmed his desire for food.
He had also devoured a green ball, which tasted of nothing, and didn't fill him at all.
Humans ate strange things, or so he thought. Hurrying up to keep up with Weyland, he entered the ducting above a white-clad room, reminding him of the lab where he had been kept in.
Memories arose, unkind ones.
The stale prey pushing needles into him, testing him. Probing
He hated the prey, and its scent. It smelled so unlike Paul. Paul had a masculine scent, which reminded him of something. Something buried within his memory. The stale prey's scent was different. It smelled of something so unfathomable, that he couldn't put his claw on it.
And, whilst entering the ducting of the room, Akkan caught the scent again.
The stale prey was here! The alien stared down at a room through a metal grille.
Weyland had set the very pale Paul down a bed-shaped object, and was talking to another human.
It was the stale prey! The scent was the same, he was sure of it.
But the voice didn't fit. It was different. The prey did not look stale either, but rather healthy. There was no warmth though. He saw Weyland's and Paul's body warmth, but nothing from the third human.
Whatever it was, Akkan was ready to defend Paul if necessary. The grille would not hold a concentrated bashing.
But he waited. The Weyland human had a plan, seemingly:
"Doctor, we've had an accident at the shooting range."
"Isn't that Dr. Cromwell? What was he doing at the shooting range?"
"Standard procedures, as he is handling live xenomorphs. He should know how to defend himself.
"Mr. Weyland, and he got shot through the shoulder? How? And why are you doing shooting exercises during the night? Sorry, but that-"
"I'm not asking you to believe it. I'm asking you to patch him up, and fast at that."
The Doctor nodded. "As you wish, sir. I will remove the bullet, but I will have to do this the old-fashioned way. The automated equipment is not working."
"Oh, and tranquilize him. I don't want him to get hurt."
"Of course, sir."
Akkan watched in awe, as the man with the strange scent started to remove the bullet from his friend's shoulder.
It was instinctively right, the Xenomorph felt it, and that was why he did not intervene.
The doctor worked swiftly, his gloved hands removing the bullet from shoulder, and dropping it in a metal basin.
"He was lucky." The doctor remarked.
Akkan's interest was sparked. How was getting shot being lucky?
"The bulled neither hit the lung nor the central artery. If it had, your friend would have been dead within minutes."
Weyland nodded, as the doctor started to tape the wound.
"He needs rest. He needs rest and probably painkillers."
"Give them over to me, and I'll make sure he gets them when he wakes up."
They exchanged a small parcel of something with a strange smell, and Weyland asked: "When will he wake up?"
"In about an hour. But surely…!"
"I'm sorry doc, I don't want to be doing this as well, but there is no choice. If he stays here, he will be found."
"I can't let you take him!"
"I have to prevent greater harm coming to him. Thank you for your help!" And under the protest of the doctor, Weyland left, with Paul over his shoulder.
Akkan followed in the ducting above.
Two updates in a day, whew! Kinda my christmas present you you awesome guys!
Stay tuned for more updates!