Area 52: Aftermath

The dropship rose effortlessly from the ground, blowing dust in all directions as it pulled away from the burnt featureless soil. A dozen marines, their lieutenant, and a synthetic took stock of their surroundings before making their way towards the entrance of the facility.

It wasn't long before they came across the first evidence of human remains. The synth dispassionately examined the charred body parts while the others tried not to wretch. It was obvious that the marine had been torn apart before the base self-destructed. Which meant the facility had been infiltrated.

The squad reached the waterfall. The platform lift was raised and unusable. Looking over the railing, one of the privates noticed that the water had now flooded one of the uppermost corridors which had previously lain beneath the waterfall. With a nod from the lt. the marines started lowering lines and climbing down into the drenched facility.

Surrounded by buckled blackened walls, they switched on their armours' lights and proceeded deeper inside. On reaching the vaults they again climbed down via the main elevator shaft to gain access to the main control room.

"There." The lt. pointed. The synth walked over and tugged at the burnt metal.

"I need this pried open." it decided, looking to one of the marines for assistance. The sgt. wedged the butt of his modified pulse rifle into the opening, and forced his weight down on the barrels. The metal gave way, revealing a less damaged unit that contained the black box.

The synth extracted the unit and handed it to the lt. before opening the case he had been carrying, which turned out to be a portable computer and moniter. Together it and the lt. hooked it up to the black box and replayed the final log.

"This is Dr. Guy." The face on the screen intoned. "The predator-sourced xenomorph has surpassed my expectations. Even colouration has been affected. This may go some way to proving how much more evolved the predator species is than our own. The xenomorph itself has proven more difficult to study. It has inherited the predator's viciousness in addition to it's own xenomorphic qualities, which has forced us to keep it in the maximum security unit. The host is being dissected as I speak. As for the ship and its artifacts, they shall be kept in the hanger until our sister facility on the other moon is ready to receive it." The screen went black.

"That's it?" one of the marines asked.

"There is another file installed." The synth revealed. "It appears to be from the security surveillance system."

"Let's see it." The lt. ordered.

The new image was from one of the corners of the ceiling. Dr. Guy's body was on the floor, and a bloodied marine was collapsed in a chair at a console. Other marines' bodies were in evidence, as well as several xenomorph carcasses. A trail of glowing green blood was spattered between the stairs to the corridor and the first airlock to the maximum security unit.

The survivor's hand was at his chest, the other held a microphone to his face. His voice came in disturbingly clear compared to the image.

"This is...Healey." A gasp for breath. "There's been a penetration. There's another one. Another predator." A wet cough, and blood fell from the mouth of the marine. "Disabled the computer system. Specimens got loose. The doctor..." The marine swivelled in his chair and kicked at Dr. Guy's body. It rolled onto it's back, the features obscured by a facehugger. "Damn bugs took everyone out. Me too. Just haven't lost enough blood yet. Acid splashed..." Another choked expulsion of blood. "Predator's probably looking for it's hunting buddy. Probably be pissed when he found out what we did...oh..."

"What's he looking at?" the lt. wondered out loud, just as a xenomorph dropped into view from the ceiling and landed on the dying marine, who made no sound as his suffering was ended. The alien ripped at the flesh in a feeding frenzy for a moment, before raising it's domed head and hissing at the stairs that led down the corridor. In a flash it leapt from the chair, sending it and it's occupant across the floor as the bug hurtled towards the new threat. From the edge of the screen there was a silent flash of light.

A moment passed, then the predator walked into the security camara's line of sight. The head of a zenomorph adorned the chestplate of its armour. Several human heads were also visible, carried in some sort of hooked-up net. The predator was bleeding from an arm and leg, but was still fully mobile. It looked around the room, then followed the trail of glowing blood into the maximum security unit.

"Is there any other security footage?" The lt. asked. "Can we see into maximum security?"

"No." The synth replied. "This is it. It is safe to assume that the predator creature will kill the specimen contained within, however. Its release from containment must have been what triggered - there."

A string of alphanumerics streamed across the screen as red lights began to flash. The voice of the computer intoned that the countdown to self-destruct had begun.

As the squad watched, the predator returned to the control room. Once it discovered the elevator was not operational, it rushed through another door nearby. Another string of alphanumerics indicated the lift had been activated.

Two xenomorphs arrived as the predator re-entered, and attacked. The first took a plasma pistol shot at point blank range, blowing its limbs apart in a shower of acid. The second leapt onto the predator, knocking it back against the wall. Its tail whipped up and over, and sliced a chunk out of the predator's shoulder. The pistol skittered across the floor.

Apparently oblivious to its wound, the predator deftly extracted its wristblades and decapitated his attacker in a single swing. As the xenomorph's body collapsed to writhe around on the floor, the predator's roar could be heard even by the distant microphone. Either he had only just felt the shoulder wound, or he was celebrating the kill. In either case, the next moment he was ascending in the elevator, out of sight.

No other movement was visible as the countdown finished. An explosion ripped through the control room, the image toppled and cut out. A final string of alphanumerics indicated an end to the recording.

"Well." The lt. mused. "Sarge."

"Sir."

"Take a few men up to the hanger, see if it got back to it's ship in time to escape the explosion."

"Yes sir."

"The rest of you, search the room. Maybe something of that pistol weapon survived, if only for metallurgical analysis." The remaining marines broke up and began looking through the debris. The lt. harrumphed in dissatisfaction.

"Someone's head is gonna roll for this."

AvP - Colonisation

The pod crashed into the side of a derelict building. Concrete and plastic shattered with equal resistance as the plummeting vehicle's descent was brought to a sudden halt, at around the third floor of what had been a residential block.

Metal hissed as it began to cool following its descent into the atmosphere. After a moment a side hatch blew open and the pod's single occupant emerged and took in its surroundings.

No life-forms. No power. Just blank featureless walls, any decoration long since eroded after months without any upkeep. Sunlight in the distance, where the side of the ruined building basked in the scorching heat this system's star had to offer.

The predator moved off in the opposite direction. Once it passed beyond minimum safe distance, the pod self-destructed.

It's vision passed from one end of the street to the other, tapping at the forearm-mounted controls, switching back and forth between thermal and electrical modes. Still nothing.

Perhaps the humans had put up so little resistance to the alien threat, the conflict was already over. In which case the young hunter might be outnumbered by now. Depending on how they had arrived on this planet in the first place, and the nature of the aliens' habitat. A lair meant a finite number of drones, but a full hive could only signify the presence of a queen.

It shuddered at the thought of such a worthy trophy. Few of its kind had survived an encounter with a queen on a lone hunt. Only under specific circumstances would it attempt such a thing. But first it would have to find the prey. Without further thought it activated it's cloak, leaving its vision mode on electrical; it would hear any humans before they saw it.

The predator leapt thirty feet to the ground and began tracking.


Nose to the street, the hound rounded the corner and came to a stop beside a manhole. It's owner and his friends followed. Without a word they began the procedure they had been following for the past month. One retrieved a crowbar from the backpack of another and began to pry the manhole out of the concrete. The third man carefully slipped his pack off and gently set it down before extracting a napalm canister.

At first they'd used them to fuel flamethrowers, but had soon learned that it was best not to get close enough to the enemy to burn them.

The fuse was lit, the canister dropped. The three men and their dog crouched on the sidewalk as the explosion ripped through walls of concrete and resin. The burning carcass of an alien shot up out of the manhole cover to land nearby, while the death shrieks of one or two more of its kind travelled up with the flames.

The men pushed the manhole cover back in so the fire would have to travel beneath the streets for its oxygen.

'We should get back.' One of them intoned, nodding at the sun, which was already casting long ruined shadows across the street. Calling the dog to his side, he led the others back to the bunker where the city's few survivors were holed up.

After they left, the burning carcass moved. A single flame rose up about seven feet into the air.

The predator uncloaked and peered at the drop of burning napalm on the end of his staff weapon.

'Should get back, k-k-k-k-k-k-k.'


Each night in the bunker was an extremely claustrophobic experience. Without ventilation twenty people were gasping for air by the time the door was opened, long after sunrise. But it kept the survivors too busy worrying about suffocation to succumb to the utter despair that any sane person would succumb to in their situation.

'This was the last one we burned before heading back.' David said, pointing at a spot on the makeshift map. 'Only one confirmed kill, at least one more injured.'

'Good.' The marine replied. 'That means their centre of operations has to be in the south-eastern quadrant, in the processing plant.'

'That's what I reckon.' David replied. 'Only problem is, the place is big enough to hold a hundred of those things, and we can't tell how many there are left. And we still don't know about the rest of the city, let alone the continent.'

'We'll worry about the rest of the colony later.' The marine glanced over at the bunks. 'We'll need to talk to that waste extraction guy about every way in and out of the plant. If we're going to take it out, we'll need everyone.'

'Flamethrowers again?' David winced.

'A coordinated burn. We have enough napalm. If we surround them before they outflank us, we have a chance...did anyone else hear that?'

A tense silence fell among the survivors as they strained their ears to hear through the thick metal sheets that made up the bunker's walls.

A dense clang sounded from above.

'They're on the roof!' One of the children shrieked. No sooner had he finished than a new sound began to repeat itself.

David frowned at the marine. 'Are those explosions?' He whispered. The marine only shrugged. For the next few minutes the sounds of what was apparently a battle continued overhead. Then nothing.

The marine eventually broke the silence. 'I'll say this much. There's no way in hell I'm going to go take a look until morning.'

Then something outside roared.


The predator retracted its wristblades, raised its first Alien trophy above its head and roared once more.

Victory.


Sunlight flooded in through the doorway as the marine cautiously stepped outside, pulse rifle raised. He nearly dropped his weapon when he first glimpsed the carnage.

At least a dozen Alien bodies lay in pieces all around the bunker. Both pool and spray patterns adorned the ground where acid blood had fallen. The marine turned and climbed up the shallow slope of the bunker's roof. More acid burns. And something else.

The marine knelt down and reached down to touch the glowing green substance. It felt like congealed blood on his fingertips. He sniffed at his hand, then wiped it clean on his tunic.

'Well?' David's voice echoed up from the doorway.

'Hold on.' The Marine answered. He looked all around the horizon, then up the walls of each building.

There it was. Like a mirage. It was completely still, probably watching him.

Very slowly, he lowered the pulse rifle and laid it down on the bunker's roof. He then did the same with his pistol. Carefully he stood, and slowly made his way back to the door. He never took his eyes off the mirage, which still had not moved.

'What the hell's going on?' David asked when he saw the marine had abandoned his weapons. 'What are you...what is it?'

'There's a bug-hunter on the roof there.'

'Bug-hunter?'

The marine nodded. 'They're called predators. Ugly motherfuckers, apparently. There aren't many people seen them visible.'

'What, another alien?' David looked in the same direction as the marine, but it took him a minute to see the distortion in the sunlight.

'Yeah. They hunt the bugs. Humans too, but only if they're armed. The predator must have done all this damage last night. When I saw its blood on the bunker roof things clicked.

'There was this grunt, a marine, assigned to a research station on the planet where the bugs were found in some giant alien's ship. There was a containment failure. This grunt was the only one to get off the planet, only to run into more bugs and a bunch of predators on the orbiting platform and the Tyrargo.'

David looked at the marine with a mixture of surprise and fear. 'The Tyrargo? But it was here! It...oh.'

'Yeah. Grunt must have been infected around the time he blew the queen bug out Tyrargo's airlock. Must have died down here. When he disappeared I figured he'd been evac'd by the company.'

'It must have been a queen.' David reasoned. 'My god. By now...there could be a thousand of them.'

The marine nodded grimly. 'Burning them out won't work. Right now, that pred's our only hope.'

And with that, he stepped back out into the open and walked towards the predator's location.

A moment later, he was close enough to see the contours in the predator's cloak.

'K-k-k-k-k-k-k-k-k.'

The marine froze. He watched as the predator seemed to look him up and down.

'You want bugs?' he asked.

'You want bugs?'

He pointed back at the xenomorph bodies. 'Bugs. You want 'em?'

The mirage stood. 'Bugs.'

'Right. Follow me.'


Nearly an hour later, the marine pointed at the waste processing plant in the distance. 'Bugs.' Then he looked at the predator.

During the journey, he thought that he could smell the hunter from time to time as it easily kept pace with him, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Now it stood beside him.

And uncloaked.

He had to admit it was an incredible sight to behold. The helmet design bordered on intricate. Armour covered a fair portion of its mottled almost-yellow skin. A necklace bore various skulls, smaller then a human fist. It held a spear-like weapon in its left hand. The wrist weapon he had heard of adorned its right forearm. One shoulder bore the famous plasma weapon, guided by the targeting sensor built into the helmet. From the other shoulder hung a vaguely tubular device. There was also a pistol attached to the armour on the predator's left thigh, and a disk on its right.

Christ, he was big.

The predator turned to look at the marine, and spoke with David's voice. 'Should get back.'

'Gotcha. Good luck.'

The predator nodded once, then began skirting around the edge of the structure. As the marine began the return journey, he suddenly realised he was now alone and very weaponless.

He began to run.


Praetorians leapt to the defence of the hive's egg room as the predator eliminated the last drone. In the background the queen Alien struggled to separate itself from its egg sac. If the predator got too close to an egg in the course of the battle, and it opened, he ran it through from above with his staff weapon while keeping the praetorians at bay with the pistol.

It was proving to be a difficult fight. The predator had sustained several wounds, and was beginning to lose its temper and concentration from the loss of blood. With a supreme effort he willed himself to maintain control as he blasted the last of the pistol's charge at his attackers.

He needed to retreat. He reversed his direction and leapt into the alcove just beyond the egg room. As he reached for his disc, he threw his staff weapon at the nearest of the two remaining praetorians. It pierced the ribcage and continued out the other side, pinning it to the wall.

With a roar the predator aimed at the other just as it prepared to leap and threw the disc. They made contact in mid-air. The disc ripped its body in half, resulting in a shower of acid, before burying itself in the skull of the pinned praetorian.

The queen charged.

The predator grabbed his speargun from where it hung off his shoulder, snapping the strap that kept it there. It grew in his hands as he hurried out of the alcove so he could keep his distance. The queen altered her course without effort and rammed the intruder into the wall before trying to grab it. But the predator still held its speargun, and fired right into her mouth.

With a noise approximating a scream, the queen pulled back and tried to dislodge the offending item from her second jaw. That was all the predator needed.

Firing again and again, every shot hitting its target, one even ripping off the queen's tail, the predator roared anew, knowing the battle was his. Emptying his speargun with one last shot, the queen succumbed and collapsed to the floor with a laboured gasp.

After checking its wounds, the predator cautiously approached the still mass of exoskeleton. As soon as it could reach it, he leaped onto its back with wristblades out and plunged them into the back of its neck. The queen writhed as the blades slashed and ripped, before finally dying as its head was completely severed.

The pheromones its dying body let off activated the surrounding eggs. The predator suddenly found himself under siege by facehuggers. He slashed at any that got close enough to leap at its face while targeting the rest with its shoulder cannon. Some facehuggers clambered up the resin-coated wall to jump or drop from higher up. The predator charged up a stronger blast to burn the wall smooth, leaving the creatures no purchase with which to climb.

For the next few minutes, the situation was intense. But soon the tide of facehuggers slowed, then abruptly ended.

The predator was victorious.


The humans watched as the predator ship came down to land beside the bunker. A hatch folded open and a small group of predators exited to greet their fellow hunter. With much furore they raised the head of the alien queen high above their heads and followed the predator back into the ship.

The marine hustled the other survivors back into the bunker as the ship's engines began to power up. With a mighty blast the ship rose up and powered itself away from the planet surface, accelerated out of the atmosphere and set course for the next star system.

Sol.