Chapter 8

Jill Valentine felt the unyielding metal deck clank beneath her as she disembarked from the small deployment shuttle, as she crouched near the shuttle's ramp she pulled her shotgun in one swift motion, the collapsible weapon coming to life in her hand. Her senses were at full alert, searching every corner of the dim landing bay that they found themselves in. Ahead of her, two Klausian commandos flanked an immense cargo door, their assault rifles held tightly against their gray armor, their dark visors shrouding the upper halves of their faces.
Jill's eyes adjusted slowly, as they had just begun to adjust to the harsh red glare from this planet's massive red sun when they had descended down an immense artificial shaft that had been built to accommodate shuttlecraft. The research facility was nearly a mile underground, far from the harsh red light and skin melting radiation on the planet's surface. The distance underground coupled with the radiation from the nearby suns made sensor scans impossible, making it the perfect secret facility.
The air was dry but hot, and a single drop of sweat fell from Jill's brow down between her eyes. She forced herself to breathe, her vivid imagination depicting unspeakable horrors in each shadow.
Old one eye had told her he had been here once, on a fact finding mission. The story of immense black creatures that bled acid and possessed incredible strength and guile seemed too horrific to be real.
The Klausian disembarked quietly, the only sound the slight buzzing of the revolver's cylinder spinning into place. His one eye scanned the landing pad and door methodically.
Jill half turned to him, still pointing the shotgun at the door. "So these… things... We haven't seen them yet, do you think maybe they died out at some point in the last ten years?" She whispered her eyes still wary of any movement at the periphery of her vision.
The Klausian didn't meet her gaze, but smiled a knowing smile. "We passed a half dozen on the way down the shaft."
Jill swallowed. Neither she nor the shuttles admittedly limited sensors had seen anything on the short dark descent, but if he said it she knew it was the truth.
"This mission hinges on how quickly we can reach and extract the target. If we have take too long or move too far into the facility we risk being cutoff and swarmed." He nodded his head. Another Klausian commando faced the door, his rifle at his shoulder. The commando on the right raised his Omni tool and began his hack.
"Killing them at range is of the utmost importance, their claws and tail are incredibly lethal." Old one eye spoke softly, one hand resting on the butt of the now holstered revolver. "Aim for the head if you can, otherwise the joints. Elbow. Knee. Stopping them from closing the distance if possible. They have a pack mentality and will swarm you if they can, but even one on one they are formidable."
The door hissed, then slid slowly open, years of grime and rust falling from the long closed door. Inside, only inky blackness awaited.

Somewhere deep inside, from the expanse of his dreams, the man who had once been known as Vincent Valentine stirred. They were close, maybe even planet side. Was this just a dream as well? It was so hard to tell anymore. With sheer force of will, the dreamer forced himself to try and waken.
Something moved outside his medical stasis tank. One of them. The Xenomorphs. Vincent tried to force himself to move, but the effort was wasted. The warm fluid of the tank keeping him at a state of near total paralysis. He felt himself slipping into unconsciousness again. The xenomorph looked through the glass of the tank, its slender black head tilted quizzically. Yet like so many others, it was conditioned, conditioned not to attack one of their own, and now that it looked close it saw one of its kin inside. A trick played on the creatures by the scientists that had once run this place, one of their many tasks had been finding a way to domesticate these creatures so that they could be used in battle, they did this by experimenting on Vincent, imbuing him with the very genes of the Xenomorphs, so that through some primal instinct they would recognize him as one of their own.
Vincent, still fighting the sleep that would inevitably come, watched the creature turn away, all interest gone as it began to crawl listlessly across the wall. Suddenly it froze, its head tilted as if listening to some distant sound. With unnatural agility the beast sprung towards the door to the tank room. Emerging from the shadows, a dozen more followed suit, their minds linked in the sudden realization that they were not alone.
After the last had left the room, the glowing red eyes in the tank darted to the borg implant where his left arm had once been, the original had also been a victim of his captors who wished to test the effects of borg implants on the human body. He tried to move, the energy expended was enormous. The arm continued to hang limply at his side. His borg implants had long since run out of energy.
It was only a matter of time. Only a matter of time before his eyes closed once more, and this time they may not open again. Outside the tank, movement caught his eye. A young human woman walked outside the tank, her finger sliding lazily across the glass surface. Long red hair, brilliant green eyes, a knowing smile.
For a moment, Vincent was convinced he was dreaming again. How else could the red haired woman from his recent dream about his office in C-sec be here? Casually her one hand tapped a panel next to Vincent's tank. It took a moment for the long dormant interface to light up, and even longer for electricity to begin to flow into through the cables attached to his arm, but when it did he could feel it. He was as aware of his implants as anyone was aware of their own limbs, maybe even more so. And as these components began to charge, he could feel hope kindle in his heart. Outside the tank, the red haired woman left the room without a sound.

- - - - - - - - -

"So what were they doing here?" Jill asked as they moved, her curiosity overriding caution for now. They had reached a security checkpoint, where the team technician was even now trying to hack the database with the hopes of finding their target.
Old one eye shrugged. "Experiments. They wanted to create a super soldier I suppose. One thing I used to teach my students: There are no shortcuts to power.' He gave the grim half smile. "These people learned that the hard way."
"So what are the odds we get our package and get out of here before those things come for us?"
"Low. Maybe even nonexistent."
Jill inhaled slowly, and was about to say something else, when she stopped short. She looked at Old one eye and held her breath. He was looking up at the low ceiling above them, his hand suddenly tight around the butt of the revolver. His one eye was tracking something unseen above them, his mouth set in a hard line. Without a word he drew his weapon and fired, his near supernatural speed dazzling her yet again. The bellow of the weapon making even the hardened Klausian commandos jump. Through the fairly large hole that had been blown in the ceiling, a dripping green substance fell, hissing loudly as it hit the floor.
The echoes of the loud revolver blast died, and then all hell broke loose. The ceiling collapsed, and three creatures emerged, hissing as they clawed their way towards the intruders. Jill's training took over, and she fired, the shotgun blast vaporizing the first creatures head. The second and third were both taken by Old one eye, who fanned the hammer of the revolver twice, each bullet blowing a fist sized hole in the monstrosities. Two of the Klausian commandos turned to help, bringing their rifles up to bear, but at that second the door that led further into the facility opened, and the team technician was impaled on a long barbed tail that seemed to erupt from the dark passage. There was no grunt or scream of pain, rather the Klausian tried to wrench himself free, firing his side arm blindly through the door. Two sets of long black hands snaked out and drug him into the dark passage, the other two Klausian commandos arriving too late to help their comrade.

A loud thump sounded behind them, and Jill turned to fire, a curse escaping. Old one eye took one, blowing the creature's jaw off in a spray of green acid. The second was hers, and again the shell struck it square in the face.

They were being swarmed now, and the black skinned aliens were everywhere. One grappled with Old one eye, but he held at bay long enough to draw his sword, which he brought down in an arc that sawed the creature in half, the bright blade unaffected by the green acidic blood.

Jill fired until the thermal clip expired, each blast taking down an enemy in a brilliant spray. As she felt the clip expel from the weapon she threw it into the face of an approaching monster, buying her a second she used to pull her side arm. She fired in rapid succession as she pulled it free, gunning down the creature that had brushed the shotgun aside.

"Too many." She thought, a cold calm seizing her. "Not gonna make it." There was no panic in her as she slid a new thermal clip into her pistol. She could almost feel the hot breath of the hissing aliens. She took a step backward, trying to get more distance between her and the advancing creatures, and the air vent against the wall buckled. Seeing a chance, Jill threw her weight against the loose grate. It gave way, and she jumped through head first just as a number of black arms reached for her.

She fell for several seconds for reaching the bottom, the impact on her head making her lose consciousness for a moment.

What had happened to the others? She strained her ears for a moment, but she didn't hear any yelling or gunshots. A pang of regret struck as she realized she may have left them to die. A sudden scratching above her dispelled this thought as she realized if she could make it through the grate, the aliens above could as well. Grasping in the dark she found where her pistol had fallen, and tucking it back into its holster, she began to crawl, the silent dark awaited her.

…

Old one eye wasn't angered in the least at Jill's tactical retreat, quite the opposite, he was impressed with her quick thinking. He watched as his last commando fell to the claws of the Xenomorphs, checking the red rage that rose in him. He resisted the urge to pull his shotgun, knowing the shorter barrel would cause the deadly acidic blood to spray in an unpredictable fashion. Instead he cut the legs out from under one xenomorph, then decapitated another, nimbly avoiding the claws and tail strikes of the remaining aliens.

"Going badly." He thought. His mind processed tactical information at a rate inconceivable to other races. "Need to follow Ms. Valentine's example."

He drove his sword point through another xenomoprh's head, and the creature spasmed wildly even after the blade withdrew. He ducked as a tail tried to whip his head off, and sped off down the hall they had come. He could sense the creatures turning to give chase. Sheathing his sword, he drew the revolver again, reloading as he ran.

"If I can keep the main force following me, maybe that will allow Ms. Valentine time to locate our target. " The possibility that she was dead entered his mind, but he dismissed it. All he could do now was trust her. Behind him, the creatures followed.