Jack Kilroy; Xenomorph

/This is Fan Fiction. I'm not attempting to change canon. This is a fictional work of fiction.

XENOMORPHS:

I awoke. There was a lot of screaming. At least I remember there being screaming. When I actually woke up I craved coffee; big time. I was physically refreshed but emotionally exhausted. Typically that meant that I had hyper jumped a multi-verse or two and was now in a potentially dangerous location.

There's gotta be a better way to make a living. Seriously.

Wonderful.

I was in an outer space 'thing' of some sort. I didn't know if it was a space ship or space station. But the window to the outside clearly said, (You're in outer space).

I opened the door to the small single person room I was in. There was emergency lighting on. Not very good emergency lighting. Instead of going and looking for trouble I did what every person s-h-o-u-l-d do in a situation like this.

Step one: Am I in immediate danger of death in the next five seconds? The answer was no. Result: don't move, listen, smell, look, feel, taste, learn.

I listened. There was not a lot of normal sounds coming from the station or spaceship where I was. I looked out the window and I wasn't moving, at least not very fast. I was probably on a station of some sort.

I smelled. The air wasn't stale. Life support was still working. But it was cold. There was some chemical smells, disinfectant or acid, and the unmistakable odor of death.

Look. Already established I was probably on a station and not a ship. I was in a crew quarters of some sort. Single occupant. Female. No diary on night stand.

Damn. I hate it when girl's don't keep diaries. It makes them hard to read. So much for inside information…

The air was cold. Very cold. I turned up the insulation on my force field. Leak less heat, stay much warmer.

Taste. There was some old food in the trash. It had been there a few days perhaps; and is smelled some. Whatever happened here, I had missed the fun part.

I had gotten all five senses out of the way. Listen, Smell, Look, Feel, Taste.

The next step was to check the time and place. According to my watch the local time was; Friday the 13th of October in the year 2142 in Arizona. Since I'm a time traveler all of my (local) time stamps are standardized in Arizona time. I was about 65 light years from Earth.

I began to search the room. This wasn't a high security area or a control room of any kind. But any information I could gleam might be extremely useful.

If you wake up in a situation like this and you're fortunate enough to not be shot at; then don't jump into action. You're almost certainly facing an ambush hunter of some sort. Thus I reasoned I had time to look around.

I found the door lock and made certain that it was locked. I looked around the room. I saw a pamphlet on the desk from Weyland-Yutani corporation.

"[REDACTED," I said. Xenomorphs.

Okay, I assessed my situation.

First. I was in a crew quarters in a space station that had been abandoned for a few days.

Second. There were xenomorphs running around. I'm glad I didn't go running into dark hallways.

Third. There was smell of death. The Xeno's had gotten out (no surprise there).

Then, I assessed my EDC (every day carry). Essentially, the weapons I had on hand.

1. Two custom revolvers in quick draw rig. Caliber: Kilroy 400 Express. (A 10mm auto wildcat round on steroids; roughly equivalent to the 41 magnum). 6 round cylinders.

2. Eight spare moon clips with 46 rounds total. Plus, the twelve in two revolvers for 60 rounds total.

3. Life support force field.

4. Active sonar array; I had ear buds that were networked with my smart glasses. More on those later; they're pretty useful.

5. Other misc. tools and stuff.

I tried logging onto the computer. My general override code got me past the first layer of security. I was indeed on a station called Romulus/Remus. Most of the high classified stuff was off limits. I added myself to the station staff roster and uploaded my law enforcement credentials. This should be useful. I looked at station logs.

I'll give you the short version. Aliens had gotten on the loose.

I decided it was time to get a look at my surroundings. Sort of.

I opened the door and looked into the corridor. There were a lot of closed doors and open vents. Standard lockdown procedure for intruders. I noted that face huggers would get through the vents pretty easily.

I turned up the sensitivity on my passive sonar. This would help the sonar act like a motion detector. There was some fans moving ventilation and air around. Nothing animal like was moving. At least not in the immediate area.

I still had some time to think and act before I disturbed anything. I decided that I would take this opportunity to adjust my arsenal.

BULLETS AND TIME TRAVEL: Two great things go great together.

I needed to assess the threat level of what I was potentially facing. Nothing was moving; and I wanted to make sure I had gathered all the information and equipment I could before I started looking around.

The potential enemy I was facing had acid for blood. This was not good. However, anything that was useful was also very dangerous. For the xenomorph; having acid blood was very useful. The trick was how to make the acid blood dangerous to the Xeno?

This was one of the advantages of being a time traveler. I can slow the passage of time; while I think and prepare. In most (movies, tv shows, and books) this is the part of the story where the magic time traveler suddenly appears on the other side of the screen with just the exact thing that is needed. I had the ability to do this, but there were consequences. It was also very dangerous to me and the people I wanted to help. Using this power too much would easily in catastrophic damage to the timeline and/or reality in general.

I decided that the best use for my ability here was to come up with a way to take away the Xeno's best asset. Their acid blood. I used my ability to manipulate time timeline and reality to come up with a projectile. This would be the only time I would be able to manipulate time in this way for the rest of this crisis.

I needed a bullet that would stop xenomorphs without spilling acid all over the place. Doing this with 100% reliability was an impractical explanation. However, I could mitigate the danger considerably. I came up with the following projectile. Please not, if you strictly stick to ammunition standards, a 'bullet' is only the projectile that comes out of the barrel at high velocity. The bullet stuck in the top of a brass casing with gun powder inside of it and a device that sends a spark into the casing when it is struck by the firing pin (called a primer); is collectively called a cartridge.

The new rounds I came up with were two different varieties. One was supersonic, the other sub sonic.

.

.

Super Sonic Xeno Sub Sonic Xeno

FPS 6.5 revolver 1375 950

Gains 180 260

Muzzle Energy 755.82002 521.1479692

Power Factor 247.5 247

Jacket Brass brass

Tip Closed Closed

Crown Fluted Fluted

Core Osmium Osmium

.

.

I staggered the rounds in my moon clips between supersonic and subsonic. The drop from muzzle velocity difference should be negligible within 50 feet.

The supersonic rounds were nickel plated brass, and the subsonic were darkened brass.

I could only manipulate time enough to create 60 rounds of these things before I started putting too much stress on the space-time continuum.

I stepped out of the door. I listened, and smelled. There was a definite sense of death in the air. Something bad had happened here; and people had died. I pretty much figured that it was xenomorph related. This was just great.

For those of you who don't know; my interdimensional travel isn't entirely under my control. When I go unconscious; it is entirely possible that I could wake up just about in any universe, time, or place. I had noticed that it never seemed like I woke up in a fun and happy place.

I was suddenly filled with compassion. I wanted to help these people. I had unfair advantages that might be extremely useful for them; assuming they would accept my help. I felt a sense of urgency. If there were survivors, then I needed to find them. Preferably without getting killed, impregnated by a face hugger, or incinerated by acid. The first thing I decided that I needed to do was to see if there was anything useful in this universe that I could make use of now that I was leaving my spawning point.

The scene was pretty creepy; I had to admit. I wasn't terribly worried about a xenomorph surprising me. One of the perks of being a time traveler. Nobody can actually sneak up on you. I also had active and passive sonar. This worked a lot like a motion detector.

I checked my hearing buds. They were in tight; good. I couldn't hear anything that wasn't filtered through these things. My passive sonar told me that.

I kept my life support shield on standby and set to auto. That should at protect me from decompression (in theory). Wouldn't do much good for anybody else around in the area.

I paused to stop and think if there was anything I could be doing wrong. It occurred to me that these predators liked the darkness. So why was I walking around in the darkness? I looked around in my stash and found a ridiculous torch. I was hoping to find a magnesium flare that could illuminate 360 degrees.

My logic was this. Most nocturnal hunters, like coyotes and the xenos, couldn't see well in bright light. While a flashlight would make things easier for humans to see, it would make everything it shined on harder to see.

It would also easily blind the nocturnal creatures (in theory).

I used my torch generously; I could always charge it up quickly later.

I came towards a large intersection.

There a lone synthetic stood. My sonar/motion detector didn't pick him up. Like he was waiting for me. "You shouldn't be using that much illumination," he scolded me. "It makes you too obvious."

"That's the idea," I replied. The synth was not amused.

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask for your weapon. They are not allowed on the station for your own safety," explained the synth.

I Wasn't gonna fall for that crap. "I'm a peace officer; Recognize my badge number 11A-11A2B-1B2B3. Run recognition of my badge number that is in order not to request, "I ordered the synthetic.

"That is a non-standard badge number," objected the synth.

I wasn't gonna play this game. "Authorize the badge number or I will be forced to use deadly physical force on your person," I said.

The synth began to object, "unauthorized use-"

I drew my revolver.

Instantly the synth said. "Law enforcement status confirmed. This artificial person apologizes for any inconvenience. How May I be of assistance marshal?" It said.

"I want you to partition all your current and past memories and then automatically switch your loyalty protocols to me, Marshal Jack Kilroy, immediately after a factory reset to safe mode while retaining all of these parameters," I instructed the Synth.

"I am Awaiting final command," it replied.

"Execute," here's where the fun begins.

Hopefully my carefully worded command would put this 'artificial person' under my command and not allow him to stab me, or anyone else, in the back. Synthetics were like normal people. You didn't know which ones to trust.