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Author Topic: Samus vs. Predator  (Read 1130 times)

Vitriol
Feb 08, 2011, 08:27:28 AM
Topic on: Feb 08, 2011, 08:27:28 AM
Q
Here's my super-geeky crossover I've been (intermittently) typing up. Enjoy!




“TRANSMISSION INTERCEPTED – AWAITING ACKNOWLEDGEMENT“
Samus Aran slinks herself down into the ship’s pilot seat, bathed in the soft blue light of the display terminal. She rubs her eyes lazily then keys in several digits, tying back her blonde sleep-ruffled hair as she does so. The computer screen flickers and instructs her to wait as the incoming message is decoded.
“Coffee, black, 3 capsules,” groans Samus. A robotic arm whirs to life and steadily guides a fresh cup of steaming coffee into her waiting hand.
“TRANSMISSION DECODED – NATURE: DISTRESS BEACON
SOURCE - G.F.S HYPERION - FREYA ORBIT - LACERTA SYSTEM”
“Now what?” Samus  gripes, setting her coffee cup down at her side. Several attempts at hailing the Hyperion prove to be fruitless – much to Miss. Aran’s annoyance.

As luck would have it, I'm the closest vessel in the region.

“Why today?” she sighs. “Computer, update co-ordinates, home us in on that beacon. Guess I'll have to check this one out.”  A holographic display of the local galaxy system  materializes in front of her and the ship’s guidance system locks onto their destination. "Initiate hyper-speed."

Should maybe take about 3 hours...I hope that's enough time...

The planet Freya is small blue world, well beyond the outer-veil systems. Lush with forests, covered in oceans and home to a vast and diverse ecosystem. Very similar to what earth once was a millennia ago - however, like earth, it's most intelligent inhabitants eventually began to bring about it's demise.
 It was once populated by numerous mining colonies. For almost two hundred years the colonists bore their wells, extracted their minerals, burned their fuels and inevitably began to turn the air toxic. Human greed almost became the catalyst of this beautiful world.
The Galactic Federation who owned most of the facilities began to receive mounting pressure from several neighbouring systems; to disband their colonies before any more species were wiped off the planet. After much deliberation, and not to mention the threat of military action against them - the installations were shut down. Humanity managed to avoid making the same mistake for a second time.
That was almost a millennia ago, we eventually learned from many other intelligent civilisations how to co-exist with the environment, how to create clean fuels and harness the pure energy of the universe itself. We were no longer a reckless adolescent race, the wisdom of ancient lore fed through the ages eventually trickled down and enlightened our naive minds.
Freya became a protected world and was left to flourish once more.

***

A ship materialises in space, a striking aura of energy and bolts of static crackles around it's smooth surface and eventually dissipates. Inside, all is quiet. A small plastic cup rolls loosely on the floor and a native-American dream-catcher swings gently from the ceiling.
There's a sudden clatter  of motion as a robotic arm begins to prepare a hot beverage for it's pilot.
Samus sets herself down at the ship's controls yet again and takes a sip from her cup. The hiss of a pneumatic piston sounds as the metal shutter that covers the cock-pit window begins to draw back. The Lacerta, the local system's sun, suddenly floods the cabin with dazzling white light. The silhouette of a small planet begins to slowly sail past, gently eclipsing the massive star - a corona of sparkling beads momentarily dance off it's surface. Gradually Freya's beauty becomes more apparent as the ship begins to settle into her orbit - crisp oceans gleaming up from beneath a healthy layer of swirling cloud, deep green hues of thick forests and vast plains, massive mountain ranges cut through with valleys and rivers. The planet itself radiates with blue luminosity.

Hard to believe the earth once looked this way.

Samus's star-ship begins to level out as it comes into a low orbit. A dazzling flare in the distance as the sun partially creeps back into view from beneath the planet's horizon. As the glare subsides a structure becomes visible - it's the Hyperion. As the vessel draws closer it begins to vastly dwarf Samus's ship. several antennae – flashing lights on their tips, sprout out from its hull at all angles. One antennae however, seems to have been severely damaged – half of it seems to have been seared off – the remaining section heavily buckled.
She attempts to hail the vessel yet again - no reply. "Computer, take us in and activate emergency docking procedures - command override code: SA2369954G.”
Two huge steel shutters open up on the side of the Hyperion and a long landing gantry slides out from within. A massive docking clamp then opens up and her ship settles down into it's grasp with a dull clunk. With Samus's craft safely secured, the landing gantry slowly retreats back inside.
"DOCKING PROCEDURE COMPLETE – RE-STABILISING AIR-LOCK PRESSURE”
Samus makes her way to the rear of her ship, and steps into a cylindrical booth.
“Suit me up.”
Mechanical fastenings secure her arms and legs as she's immersed in a searing bright light. Millions of steel fragments begin to materialise, fluttering around her momentarily before completely encasing her body.
“AIR PRESSURE STABILISED”
A hatch on the underside of Samus's ship opens and the cylindrical booth containing her descends to the floor. Samus steps out, now complete with her armoured power-suit.
It's dark, save for a few flashing warning lights spinning overhead. She advances forward – the air-lock's inner hatch screeches sharply then slowly slides open. Light begins to flood the room. Samus readies her arm-cannon, unaware of what to expect on the other side.


The hanger bay is quiet. No signs of damage, no blood, no evidence of a fight.
She counts the escape pods lined up along the far-side of the hanger...one is missing. Samus accesses her data-banks and downloads a layout of the Hyperion and starts to make her way to the bridge. Her steel clad feet echoing out lonely footsteps. She's dealt with this level of unease before, and in the past that same unease was always justified.

The Mary Celeste...

The narrow corridors of the Hyperion seem to close in all around her, a crushing claustrophobia.  Cautiously she scans her surroundings – bulkheads, air vents, service hatches...constantly awaiting an ambush. Nestled within every shadow was another beast preparing to pounce, another memory, another nightmare. What will it be this time?
Samus eventually reaches the entrance to the bridge. It's immediately clear that the door has been destroyed by some sort of energy projectile or high explosives. Flayed metal bend inwards from their frame, their edges charred and seared. She carefully steps over the crumpled wreckage and into the bridge. The lights have gone, the only illumination is the dim blue hues of the control terminals. She makes her way towards the central control station and brings up the mission log entries. She skips to the last video update.
A holographic display screen materialises and a fear-etched face flickers into view.

“Captain O'Bannon, mission log entry 357. We have a hostile intruder on board. Our casualties are severe – 34 confirmed dead, 7 unaccounted for and two in need of urgent medical attention. It's hunting us down like animals, our security force was no match for it. It's using advanced weaponry and seemingly utilises some sort of optical camouflage. I can only assume that this enemy is of the same species as the one we retrieved from Freya. An act of revenge I'm sure. We never seen it coming – it shot out our communications array before it boarded, we're helpless out here...hopefully someone will pick up our distress signal before it's too late. There's only 8 of us left – we've sealed ourselves in on the bridge. It was a mistake, we should never have – Jesus!”

A loud explosion is heard off-screen followed by gun shots and a medley of screaming. The screen fizzles out. She stands still for almost a minute, trying to make sense of what has happened.

Samus notices that the shutters over the bridge's windows are closed. She activates the control switch. They slowly slide up with a mechanical clatter. As the windows are unsheathed the room is bathed in an auroral bright light. The Lacerta's brilliance shines intensely at Samus – she takes in the breath taking view, stealing a small moment away from the bleak situation. The curvature of Freya gently caressed by a morning sun, a million stars dancing on it's waters.
Samus closes her eyes and turns away from the window, waiting for her retinas to re-adjust. Upon opening her eyes she's accosted with a ghastly vision.
Several mutilated bodies hang upside down from the ceiling, strung up by their ankles – devoid of flesh. Skinned like beasts in a slaughter house. She readies her weapon and pans the area – whatever heartless foe concocted this kind of brutality could still be in this room, she thought. Carefully, she manoeuvres her way towards the doorway. The victims swinging gently around her like horrible pendulums.

This is not the work of the Space Pirates – even they are not this deplorable

Once at the doorway she turns back for a final look.

7 corpses...O'Bannon said there were 8 survivors on the bridge...

Suddenly there's a high pitch screech that interrupts the silence – an alarm. The automaton voice of the ship's computer sounds throughout the vessel.

“Your attention, please – unauthorised opening of sector 3, repeat unauthorised opening of sector 3. This area is off limits to unauthorised personnel.”

Samus bolts down the corridor and locates a service elevator. The platform descends rapidly into the lower bowels of the ship. It grinds to a halt as it reaches the required level – the piston-operated door slides away with a slow hiss.
She steps out from the elevator, cold pneumatic mist billowing wistfully around her. A narrow corridor stretches out ahead, their walls slope inwards into an almost triangular shape. Purposefully, she traverses through the dim passage – orange warning lights hanging from the low ceiling above blink intermittently, momentarily illuminating the route ahead.  Steadily she advances. Suddenly a shriek erupts next to Samus's head, a glimpse of a black flailing tail – she drives herself into the adjacent wall and aims her arm cannon at the thrashing snake.
It's a burst pressure tube – nothing more.
Re-composing herself, she continues down the tunnel.

Finally, the shoe-box passage leads out into a large and well lit arena. Blaring flood-lights fixed on the lofty ceiling are angled at a structure in the centre of the room.
It's a ship of some kind, unbeknownst to her of what origin however. Clearly not human, and clearly heavily damaged. Scaffolding and equipment are assembled around the mysterious craft – presumably set up for means of study. Samus approaches the vessel – scanning it with her visor. Her data-banks draw up a blank, it matches nothing that's on record. She picks up a small portable terminal from one of the tables and begins to read what's on it's screen. The words are meaningless to her – she's no scientist. She tosses it back on the table.
Panning the adjacent wall on her right she observes a door panel which has been forcibly wretched from it's fixings. Electrical sparks from exposed wiring spit from the damaged frame. The words 'sector 2' are stencilled above the vacant access. Tentatively she steps through the entrance – immediately she's affronted with yet another mutilated crew member. His blood soaked corpse strewn on the floor as if he was tossed aside dismissively, his white medical coat bathed in crimson. Two deep puncture wounds in his chest point to the cause of death.

He hasn't been dead long...


Another entrance just ahead of her has been decidedly breached. She advances through to the next room.
It's seemingly a medical section of some description – surgical equipment and operating beds are positioned all around. At the far side of the room a bright light is stationed above one of the beds – advancing towards it, she begins to make out a black silhouette. A humanoid form is kneeling at the foot of the bed. It slowly rises to a standing position, and let's out a booming and guttural howl – before she can react, it removes a long blade from a sheathe adhered to it's leg, and makes a deep stabbing motion through the bed in front of it – accompanied with an awful crunch. Samus snaps her aim at the creature, a click echoes through the room as she arms her weapon. The black shape spins around sharply, long tendrils flail from it's head as it turns to confront her.
A deceptively long moment passes as they stare at each other. 3 red dots settle on Samus's chest and and begin to slowly move upwards. There's a sudden flash of light as a projectile is launched towards her. She dives sideways – the glowing missile zips past her and impacts with the wall behind. A fierce explosion erupts, firing fragments of super-heated shrapnel in all directions.

Rolling onto the deck, she manoeuvres herself into a firing position – she lets out several high-velocity rounds of her own. Her retaliation is unsuccessful, however – the creature manages to leap out of their path.
The surgical light hanging over the bed explodes as a result of Samus's barrage – in the fray of glass and sparks she witnesses her opponent activate something on it's wrist – strings of electricity dance over it's body as it disappears from view. She finds her feet again and advances forward. She quickly pans  the area – whatever it was that just shot at her was now nowhere to be seen.
Samus approaches the bed ahead of her, the damaged surgical light is now hanging limply – spewing brief cascades of sparks. A creature is lying motionless on the mattress. Surgical tubes and medical apparatus are connected to it's heavily injured body – bright green luminous blood surrounds a fresh wound to it's chest.

Before she can fully assess the strange creature, she becomes aware of a continually bleeping tone. An LED screen attached to creature's wrist displays glowing red runes – each blinking out in succession. The pitch of the tone increases ominously.

...to be continued. Possibly.

« Last Edit: Feb 08, 2011, 08:34:44 AM by Vitriol »

 

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