Star Children- An Odyssey

[TheMonolith]

After a great deal of work, the tale that I and SpaceMarines worked very hard on to complete for a year is finally ready for its unveiling to AvP Galaxy. Segments will be posted weekly.
May I start off by saying this was a chore to write, but both Marines and I completed something we are greatly proud of and we hope you all will enjoy it as much as we do.
The store is a three way crossover between Alien, Predator and 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Feel free to point out any spelling errors. Marines and I are also not beyond doing a re-writes to improve upon it. We will also accept artwork if anyone wants to submit any.

In a remote research facility, a squad of marines have barricaded themselves inside to escape the hive of xenomorphs just outside the door. This draws a small clan of predators to the planet, who prepare for a hunt they will never forget. Unbeknownst to all involved, a fourth party, a cosmic force beyond all comprehension, is watching.

Part 1

Spoiler

STAR CHILDREN
an Odyssey

By Eric Hanson & Jack Edwards

— PROLOGUE —

   At first glance, the planet appeared dead, as it had for millions of years. What little life that remained was confined mostly to the seas, where the struggles and hardships of continued existence were much less rigorous.  The land was not completely barren, however. The indomitable spirit of life clung on wherever it could, and species were still present outside of water's safer embrace.
   One such species was a parasitic race living amongst the warm caves in a mountain chain. They were biomechanical in appearance, glossy black skin dripping with saliva-like secretions. They stood upon biped legs, but walked on all fours like infants. Measuring roughly three feet long, the small creatures had elongated heads and long tails. A toothen tongue was enclosed within its jaws, lethal to what prey they could find, though they mostly scavenged long dead carcasses. There was a larger control entity, a queen, which laid the eggs.
   Never having the most robust of populations, they were nearing the brink of extinction. Only the smaller creatures could be restrained long enough to incubate their young, but they all avoided the caves. If the parasites tried to venture further, the large animals would kill them. They lacked all that was required by the few species that still flourished; size, ferocity, and strength. However, they had one thing that all others lacked; the weak forefather of a conscious mind.
   Day after day went by the same as before. The monotony was endless; a few would die, a few would be born, and the former was always greater than the latter. When the drones were leaving the caves on yet another of these typical days, something was subtly different. A sound reverberated through the valleys, a faint sound, barely audible, but a sound unlike any that had ever graced the plains of this desolate planet, or ever would again. It was the sound of drums.
   Rhythmically the noise undulated, pulsing out. The sound varied in tempo and pitch, but it flowed out insistently. It called the creatures forwards, pulling them hypnotically from their cave. Even the Mother herself was entranced, and she ripped from her ovipositor and marched forward. They gathered in a circle in a clearing around the source of the rhythm.
   At the centre of the circle was a rock, but it was far different from all others they had encountered. It was tall and rectangular, towering far above the Mother. Its surface was completely transparent, but that was quickly changing. Shapes began to form, making the monolith opaque, a milky white. It glowed, emitting light that fluctuated and changed, forming shapes and bars, running through the spectrum from radio to gamma. As it did so, it began to probe the reactions of the creatures around it. When it found that these things did not use electromagnetic waves as a primary sense, the luminescence stopped, the surface shifting to the blackest of blacks. The sounds emitted stopped their throbbing and became a constant tone. It shifted from ear-shatteringly high to unhearably low.
   The creatures stood still, motionless. Invisible tendrils entered their bodies, mapping out all reactions, grading potentials, analyzing minds. Suddenly, one of them burst into motion. Its arms were controlled, moving without consent, held out as far as they would go and then forced to touch the fingers together. Others repeated this task. Some picked up bits of plant matter, struggling to tie them into knots with digits not meant for such delicate work. One by one, the individuals were controlled, the Mother constantly being returned to, her potential being the greatest.
   Presently, it called her forward. The sound returned to its previous rhythm, the drumming constant. Approaching the block had an odd sensation. The Mother did not want to approach it, but at the same time, felt she had to. These duelling thoughts could have torn the creature in two had they manifested themselves in her flesh. Still, the urges were strong, but the urge to reach the block was what won in the end. Standing at the base, the small biomechanical creature reached both of her small hands skyward as if in prayer, and laid them down on the block.
   Images flooded its tiny mind. It began to see things. Odd but fascinating things. Far away stars and planets. The faces of many other races and species. Finally it rested on a single image. The image was of the preferred host for the young. A strong specimen that could not be subdued.
   Then something happened. She saw the secretions used to support her in the air, the ones used to line the walls of their hive. But something was different. She saw the animal that could not be subdued. The secretions fell upon it, encompassing it, drying and capturing it. She saw an egg next to it opening.
   Of course.
   She saw the entirety of a hive many thousands of times larger than her own spreading across the land, swarming the larger creatures, dragging them back. She saw now what was wrong. They needed to focus on increasing numbers, being able to overwhelm and capture more and more hosts.
   Of course. It all made sense.
   All of the other members of the nest approached the block and laid their hands upon the featureless surface. These images met them as well.
   Along with the vision, the monolith extended outwards, making subtler changes. The atoms of the creatures' brains were rearranged, slightly and with great care, the alterations to be passed on in the genetic code.  Faint ghosts of memories were lost, never to be seen again, but this was a rather minor setback compared to what could be reaped. Later, the musculature and anatomy would be meddled with, but that was for another day.
   Presently, the rock released its hold upon the creatures. They returned back to their caves, forgetting their experience with the mysterious object, but retaining what had been implanted. There was much work still to be done, further adjustments and experiments, carefully programmed and meticulously designed. But there was no hurry. Eventually, the changes would be complete; evolution would take its course.
   Eventually, the xenomorph would be born.

— PRELUDE —

   Countless eons later, the main focus of our tale began to play out. To humankind, the year was 2257.
   This was the colony Styx, a place of similar size to Earth, with identical variety in climatic regions. A colony had been established numbering around 135 persons, mostly scientific and research personnel, though there were civilians among them. After some scouting, they came upon a ship. A ship they should have known to avoid due to warnings sent out by Weyland Yutani following the Hadley's Hope Massacre and the subsequent failure of a combat squad to complete a rescue mission. But they entered, and one of the scouts was impregnated by a xenomorph.
   They did follow proper procedure afterwards, and immediately put the person on ice, but then, in a cruel twist, a violent storm knocked out the power. The emergency generators should have prevented anything from going wrong, but a short struck the cables leading to the freezers, resulting in loss of power. The host, and the parasite inside, woke up. Had someone thought to go and check what happened afterwards could have been easily avoided. In the time it took to get back on, the infant was able to exit the host and escape. It was a Queen. All 135 persons were impregnated within 48 hours.
   The marine squad, consisting of 23 soldiers, was sent to see if there were any survivors, mostly in hopes of finding high profile scientific personnel. The plan was to come at the hive from all directions, breaking up into three squads, two of 7 and one of 9, and go inside the nest.
   It failed, and there were only four survivors. Lieutenant Matthew Paxton, Corporal Jack Weathers and Privates Thomas Hurt and Sarah Goldstein.
   The outposts near the edge of the colony had been untouched by the intrusion, so the four soldiers sealed themselves inside, with enough food and water to survive three months. In their flight, a request for rescue was sent and picked up by a ship that was 21 days away.
   This was day 16.

— 1 —

   Klaxons blared. Emergency lights turned on, spinning on the wall. Corporal Weathers snapped up from the blueprints he was analyzing, running to the nearby computer screen as fast as he could. He looked over the sensor readouts; they were not good.
   "Weathers, sit-rep, now!" The Lieutenant, Paxton, shouted, running into the room, a rifle grasped with one hand.
   "They're, uh, swarming us, sir. The bugs. Motion sensors have at least 20 hostiles confirmed, but it's hard to tell for sure; there's a lot of movement interference." Weathers paused, taking another look at the screen. "Judging from the intensity, there's probably more."
   "Shit," Paxton muttered, Privates Goldstein and Hurt rushing in as he did so, the latter hooking up his smartgun's targeting hardware, "Where are they at?"
   Weathers checked the screen: "Looks like they're trying the main bulkhead again."
   "L.T., what d'we do?" Hurt asked, his voice faltering slightly.
   "Everyone, grab extra mags, get up to the bulkhead, form a defensive perimeter around it," Paxton looked back to Weathers, "How many of the mines are left?"
   "Twelve, sir. But they've already passed by some of them."
   "Hopefully the rest'll do it." He slung his rifle over his shoulder, and led the four of them to the main entrance.
   They got in front of the welded-shut door, Weathers and Goldstein on their knees, Paxton and Hurt behind them, all four aiming at the bulkhead. Their motion trackers beeped, the only sound being made in the still room.
   "25 meters; there's mines around there, right?" Goldstein asked.
   "Yeah, should be any second no-" Hurt was cut off by a loud rumbling accompanied by a dull roar, vibrating through the facility.
   "There's one mine." Weathers adjusted his rifle.
   "Two, now."
   Goldstein looked at her tracker again. "They're at 12 meters. Doesn't look like as many bogeys now, I think we got a lot of the f**kers!"
   "That's three." Paxton readied himself. "Four!"
   "Jack, how many contacts left?" Paxton turned his head slightly towards Weathers as he said this.
   "Looks like 10, maybe fifteen. Closest one's at 3 meters. They've passed by the mines." He let go of the motion tracker, letting it hang limply by his side and bringing his hand up to his rifle, Goldstein doing the same.
   They started to hit the bulkhead, a dull metallic sound resonating with each blow. The creatures struck again and again, each impact clearly carrying a large force behind it. With each strike, the atmosphere grew more tense. Minutes passed like hours. Sweat ran into Hurt's eye, causing him to blink furiously. He didn't dare reach away from his gun.
   "We've got this; they'll never get through that door. It's over a half-meter thick, solid steel." Goldstein smiled slightly.
   A loud crack sounded out, shattering through the room. A bolt flew off of the door, landing several feet away. The metal bulged inwards slightly, a gap appearing between two of the sheets of steel.
   "Okay, marines, stay tight, don't lose focus! If they get through, just light 'em up, mow 'em down!" Paxton said. God, I hope that f**king door holds! I won't lose any more men...
   Two more thuds could be heard. There was a pause, and then a third. The impacts stopped. Goldstein checked her motion tracker.
   "No contacts, L.T. Looks like they left." She grinned.
   "Goldstein, Hurt, stay here for a few minutes, make sure they're really gone. Weathers, let's check over the tracker network. Make sure there's no holes." Paxton turned and left the room, Weathers following behind him.
   Goldstein sat down in a chair, holding the motion tracker towards the door.
   "Five more days until the Alistoun picks us up." Hurt said.
   "Don't worry, Thom. It'll be over in no time. We'll make it."
   "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure." He eyed the partially-buckled door, gripping his smartgun a little tighter.

— 2 —

   A large group of xenomorphs, numbering about 25, flooded back into the Hive. They were but a third of their original numbers, the others left in pieces in the corridor behind them. It made a dent, sure, but not a big enough one. Still, there were casualties from the shrapnel. Some of them had arms barely hanging on, some had sharp pieces of metal embedded in their skulls, but they took it in stride as they regrouped.
   The Queen rested on her perch, angered at the losses of her children. She could not control her urges to usher more of her brood into the world. That was her only goal, to extend her family as far as it would go. She would accept nothing less in life. Losing parts of that family only outraged her even more, and increased her desperation to capture the remaining creatures in the metal caves.
   She looked to her eggs. There were many, enough to replace the ones she had lost. The petals on the top twitched with anticipation of their incubators to arrive. The Queen wanted to comply with the begging young, but she could not until the remaining creatures in the metal caves had been brought to the nest.
   The generators around her purred with life, keeping the lights going, not that the xenomorphs needed them.
   The Queen watched the remaining children return. So mangled, so hurt, but they didn't care. They were so eternally devoted to her; every last one of them would lay down their lives for the newborns and herself. But their numbers were dwindling.
   The creatures that lived in these sections of the caves were easy. The Queen need only to find her isolated spot and let her newborns roam freely inside the little nooks and crannies of these caves. They provided such places to hide, tubes above and below the head were perfect for the infants to traverse around. It didn't take long to get them all. She only needed three full grown children to collect the rest. It took many trips to complete the task.
   Two of those children were among the lost.
   These creatures from the sky looked and smelled the same, but their arms shot fire and metal that stung and cut the skin. They seemed to know what the nest wanted, and would do anything to stop it. Most of them died in their flight. The children had made sure of that, but the few that remained were stronger, smarter, and more deadly. They never attacked directly, but commanded the ground itself to incinerate all children who went to retrieve them.
   The monstrous sky creatures.
   The Queen let out a hiss thinking about them. They would pay dearly. They would watch the nest grow, lending their bodies.   
   The Queen watched as her brood began to go about their work, collectively trying to think of a way to purge the creatures in the metal caves. The Queen could not help but love them. Every last one. They cared not for themselves, but for all of their own. They would die for each other, for the infants, for their mother.
   They calmly went about their work in the nest, moving eggs, removing metal shards from each other's skulls, letting their life spill out onto the nest floor and eat away at it.
   The Queen cocked her head as she watched them care for each other. Her children. They made her proud.
   She looked down to the infants, still asleep in their shells. She reached out her massive hand and stroked the nearest one.
   They were so beautiful. She made these treasures. How she loved them. How she longed to watch them grow. She ran her fingers across the top, soothing the young one. She made them, and no one was going to rob her of their lives.
   There would be the precious few who would grow like she did, and they would leave and have children of their own. Then they would have children who would have children, and a few of those would have children as well.
   The Queen knew that she would make it all happen. It would be her family. And they would survive. The function of all life is survival.
   Something happened.
   It was sudden, not violent, but very noticeable. All the children stopped moving.
   The Queen could sense something. A presence. It was not threatening, but not timid. Not violent, but not friendly. And it was everywhere. It was in the walls, it was in the floor, in the ceiling, it was in her very flesh.
   All the children turned to the direction of the exit. The Queen knew what they were looking towards. The Dead Thing that had brought them to this world. The dead monsters that had made the mistake of trying to tame them. They were not looking back at those memories. They were looking inside the Dead Thing.
   Something was there, and it was calling them.

— 3 —

   Outside the colony, in an isolated desert valley, a ship coasted to a landing.
   Not a rescue ship. Something else.
   Out of the back of the ship, three figures appeared. These figures had names.
In the center was Butro, a vet of the hunt, skilled in ranged and close quarters combat. His skills were unprecedented.
   To his right was Tek, a young male who had much enthusiasm about this journey, and the fruits it would bring them.
   On the far left was Suran. Suran held his composure better then the young Tek. He was quieter, collected, cunning.
   These three could be a father and two sons, a master and two pupils, or a teacher taking two students on their equivalent of a field trip. Is that important? Not really. Either way, they are there for the same reason. To kill.
   Butro wanted the young Tek to remain close. He was excited, and that worried him. Excitement should be replaced by caution. Underestimating prey had cost many hunters their lives, especially by the creatures on this world. Butro refused to call the one kind insects. That made them sound weak. They were not weak, but strong. Many hunters were right to fear them.
   The apes were a real prize. Their kind had begun to spread in recent centuries. Before that time, they were worried to destroy themselves in their pitiful wars, and deny the universe a fascinating animal. Not only was their culture variety extremely bizarre (though undeniably well developed) they were among the best quarry in the universe. Lacking animal instincts, they had to rely on wits. Most never knew what hit them, but those few that figured out they were being hunted, they made for epic duels. It was almost a shame to kill those ones.
   Butro deployed his spear and pointed it forward, ushering the young towards the hunt.
   Butro knew some who preferred to keep their new hunters behind them so the teacher could take the brunt of the damage in the event of a surprise attack. Butro disagreed with this. He wanted to keep them in his sights at all times in the early stages. This way he could observe their behavior and correct their errors if needed. You can't see them make mistakes if they are behind you.
   The ship was well outside the zone of conflict. The beasts would have no reason to come to it unless they figured out there was food or hosts there, and the apes seldom went away from their enclosures.
   As they walked, Butro observed Suran kneel down and run his hand through the dry terrain before taking a handfull and analyzing it. He was an odd one. On every hunt, Butro observed him often take a little piece of land and keep it along with the quarry. When asked why, he said the terrain reminded him of the journey to the kill, which was just as rewarding as the kill itself. He seemed to prefer the dry land since it was easier to maintain.
Sometimes Butro couldn't help but suspect that to Suran, the land was more of a prize than the skull. A silly notion sure, but he still suspected.
   Butro looked to Tek, who watched Suran's every move. That was one of his errors. He often tried to model his methods after those of others. This did make good practice, but it made one far too predictable. There were many methods to chose from, many combinations of styles that were at his disposal. Butro intended to make sure he exploited that.
   Tek knelt down next to Suran and watched him sift through the terrain. Suran didn't appreciate this, shooting Tek a look, demanding to be granted privacy. What an odd one Suran was. He continued to sift through the tiny gravel pieces for a few moments before dropping the handful to the ground.
   Tek let out a small cough. He had not trained himself to accept the different atmosphere. The apes' air was not fatal, and could sustain life, but to those who were inexperienced in hunting them, it could be nauseating, especially in densely populated areas containing waste particles.
   Butro pressed the two forward. Finally, the enclosure was in their sight.
   What interested Butro about these apes was that there had been many before, but only a few remained now. Very few as a matter of fact. Certainly the survivors must be strong ones who would put up astounding fights to keep themselves breathing.
   Butro's gaze shifted to the larger part of the enclosure, which had been overrun by the beasts. It was a big enclosure, once containing many of the apes, and now they had all been replaced. Their numbers would be great. Hopefully not too great. There weren't much potential hosts available so it would not get out of control. That would be good, especially for Tek, who knew not of the killing potential of them yet.
   The air was surprisingly still. Butro could swear he heard whispers echoing around them.  He could not help but feel something was amiss.

[close]

Part 2

Spoiler

— 4 —

   Butro walked through the deserted corridors, Tek close behind. Suran brought up the rear, seeming more interested in the architecture of the primitive human structure.
   He had seen this scenario many times. The silly apes would awaken the beast and be overrun. Most of the time no apes would make it this far. Save for the group that was inside, not far off.
   This subgroup was a quarry that Butro found very fascinating. Soldiers, warriors not unlike themselves. Their weaponry was something to be reckoned with. He had lost several reckless students to its bite. One young one, a teenage male named Hlut made the mistake no hunter should ever make. Not respecting the prey.
   All through that hunt, Hlut displayed disregard and stupidity that Butro knew would lead him to a bad end. A bad end he met at the hands of a female ape.
   The creature was wielding a weapon that Butro rightfully feared, a large cannon with six barrels that cycled. Despite Butro's objections and demands that Hlut show caution, the idiot (Butro could think of no better term for the act that followed) deployed his wrist gauntlet's blades and went charging in. He counted on the ape freezing up.
   She didn't.
   The metal projectiles caught Hlut in the torso, a total of around 80 burying themselves in his body, severing the spine, eviscerating the intestinal tract, slicing the young one in half at the waist.
   Butro looked to Tek, who had his combi stick deployed, excitedly anticipating the duels that would inevitably come.
   Butro liked Tek, admiring his high spirit on the hunt, but sensed some of Hlut's folly within him. Hlut met the end he made for himself. Tek didn't deserve such a fate. He was young, and unlike Hlut, could learn from his mistakes.
   Butro looked back to Suran, observing his odd behavior. He was currently transfixed on a metal tablet bearing the ape species characters on it. Suran ran his finger under all the symbols, memorizing them.
   Butro gave a demanding growl for Suran to cease his activity. Suran complied, but seemed to not appreciate the interruption.
   They had reached their destination. A very important lesson was awaiting Tek.
   Butro motioned for the juvenile to go to a nearby wall, which he did.
   The elder ran his hand down the wall's side. Pointing his index finger, he tapped it twice, looking for Tek's response.
   The teenager seemed confused. Butro gave him a slight hit on the side of the head and motioned for him to cycle his multiple eyes.
   The multiple eyes were a very important tool for learning hunters, and even experienced ones like Butro could still use them. This particular eye highlighted the heat the apes' bodies gave off, but unlike the one Butro used, it would penetrate the metal walls to see what was on the other side.
   This eye was made for the younger hunters, so they would watch their prey, but also listen.
   After associating certain sounds with images, they could visualize just where their prey was based on memories from using this particular eye.
   Tek activated it. Glancing to the wall, he was visibly startled by what he saw upon glancing up.
   Nearby, Suran nearly laughed, but gratefully showed restraint. He did however give Tek a soft affectionate punch to the ribs. Tek, unprepared, almost stumbled a bit, but kept his posture strong.
   Butro could tell what was going on. There were two of them. One paced back and forth on the other side, while the other sat in a reclined position. He could tell by listening to the faint breathing of the reclined one. The lungs made a specific sound depending on what position the body was in. The differences were subtle and not everyone could distinguish them. The lung brushing against a rib or muscle, a slightly different rattle, etc. The differences did exist.
   Suran leaned himself against the opposite wall and watched the two interact.
   Butro motioned for Tek to watch the two creatures. Understanding the psychology and individuality of these animals could prove very useful. Most hunters forget that they are all different, and will react in different ways to a threat to their lives.
   Butro couldn't help but remember one ape he had tracked for some weeks during a time of war on the ape home world. It was a smart one, a middle aged buck. Not the elder of the combat tribe. Butro had decided to claim the elder first and watch new leaders rise from the tribe.
   They went one by one until only this buck remained. Clever, stealthy, very determined to keep himself breathing.
   Butro beat him, but the victory was bitter sweet.
   The buck did something that didn't happen all that often with this particular race.
   The animal, like many, was able to figure out the purpose of Butro's coming, and decided that if he was not going to make it, Butro would not have the pleasure of mounting him.
   The buck gave Butro a cold grin, a final insult before he took his own life, denying Butro an astounding specimen.
   Remembering this incident caused the elder to look back towards Suran, who patiently waited on the opposite wall, clicking his mandibles together under his mask.
   Such an odd one he was, but such promise. He was smart. Butro admitted Suran was actually smarter than himself, without a doubt the most intelligent student he had ever taught.
   Other elders refused to take him due to odd habits. Butro actually was the only qualified elder who showed much interest in him.
   On the hunt, Suran was a natural. He understood his prey better than anyone. He understood their personalities, their strengths and their weaknesses on a whim. Gestures of the hands, tilts of the head, vocal tones had mountains of meaning to him. After only three hunts with Suran, he became the envy of all who refused to teach him earlier. Suran visibly was pleased with this. He never did like being undermined; even landing a blow on Butro to repay one that had been landed a few seconds before.
   Tek watched the two apes interact with each other with eager anticipation. On the other side was a male and female engaged in a chat. The male held a large weapon that Butro knew, one that actually tracked motion. Very formidable.
   He could tell that Tek was indeed listening and associating sounds he was hearing with the sights he was seeing.
   The two were visibly exhausted. This had to be after a fight from the beasts.
   They had been there for some time when Butro motioned for them to leave. Tek, somewhat disappointed, complied.
   It was time to observe a more terrifying enemy.
   The beasts.
   Entering the nest was not a wise decision; Butro's teacher had lost his life after making it. Instead, the three climbed a ridge outside the ape construct.
   The overrun structure gave off visible moisture from open vents and viewing windows.
   The set of eyes to look inside was one that even Butro still used. Going into a beast nest blind was suicide even for a veteran.
   Once they had all cycled into this sight, the beasts were visible.
   Electrical currents pulsed outside their exoskeleton torsos, extending their toothen tongues which brought death to all they touched.
   They were behaving oddly however.
It took the elder a few moments to figure out how.
   They were not moving. They were all standing perfectly still, their sights trained on a specific point.
   Butro followed their gaze to what they were looking at.
   Butro knew it. Wherever the beasts were, the remains of this race were as well.
   Looking inside was impossible.
   Behavior from the beasts like this was unusual, and unnerving. In every nest in the past, there was constant motion.
   Butro looked to their mother. Such a prize she was. A factory for their kind, and a perfect killer. Looking at her however, Butro could feel an odd kinship, as if they shared the same confusion he currently felt.

— 5 —

   Poker at a time like this. It was absurd. Yet Paxton knew these games were one of the few things keeping them going. Weathers stayed close to his console the whole time, though. He had to. Bugs didn't care about cards. Paxton glanced at his hand; he had nothing.
   "50," Goldstein kept her face emotionless as she bet.
   "Call," Hurt threw the 'chips' into the pot. They were really just spent bullets and casings. "So L.T., we change the fallback plan at all? Last time was a little too close."
   "Fold," Paxton threw his cards onto the table, "I've been thinking about it a bit with Weathers and we've changed it a bit. Actually, Weathers came up with this new plan. Care to explain it?"
   "Of course, sir," Weathers looked up from the screen, "Could you keep an eye on this, Thom? Thanks. Okay, so, as you all know our original plan involved using the old maintenance tunnels beneath the facility; two of us cutting through the seals we made while the other two cover. We'd then take them to the civilian annex, where we'd then set up more defences. Oh yeah, raise 35."
   "I'll call," Goldstein said with a smirk, "So, what was wrong with that plan? Seems fine to me."
   "I'll fold," Hurt said.
   Paxton spoke next as he dealt out the cards; "Well, Goldstein, there was nothing really wrong with that plan, and we'll still use it. It's just, it doesn't give us many options if the tunnels or the annex are infested. So Weathers came up with a backup."
   "I've been over the blueprints," said Weathers, "and there seems to be one other way out that would work. There's a small service hatch in the back of Ops, in the server room. It leads into an alcove with a ventilation tube."
   "50 again," Goldstein said, placing her bet.
   "That tube would be a small fit, though. Crouching room only. Could be trouble if you're claustrophobic." Paxton said.
   "Wait, I've seen that room," Hurt remarked as Weathers called, "I saw it when we did our first sweep. That tube's completely sealed. How'd we get in?"
   "One of us would have to cut it while the others cover, and then somebody would seal it again once we're all in the tube. Sealing it would be the most dangerous part." Weathers said this as Paxton dealt again. "We'd then crawl down the tube. After about two-and-a-half clicks, it'll open up to a small canyon."
   "The canyon has a small water processor for the Styx colony. We'd then hold up there while the Alistoun comes," Paxton finished dealing.
   "25. Well, that plan sounds fine, but personally, I don't think we'll have to use it. We can hold out a few more days," Goldstein said, "We will hold out a few more days."
   "Yeah, yeah, a few more days," Hurt said as Weathers called.
   Paxton dealt the final card. "This is it, people. Last bet of the night. Then it's back to duty."
   "All in." Goldstein slid her chips across the table.
   Weathers sat thinking for a moment, quickly going over a very basic calculation of the odds. Weathers threw in his cards. "Fold." He smiled faintly.
   Goldstein grinned, pulling the pot over to her.
   "You gonna show us what you got? Come on, let's see 'em!" Hurt said.
   Deliberately she flipped her cards. Weathers laughed. "A pair of 4's? Heh, I had a straight, damnit. Quite the risk you took." He kept smiling.
   "Private, you certainly have balls," Paxton said, chuckling, "If we get to Gateway, I owe you a drink."
   "You mean when, L.T. Anyways, I had a good feeling 'bout this hand. Felt it'd go right." Goldstein replied.
   As she gathered up her winnings Weathers took the console back from Hurt, watching the readings.
   "All right, Hurt, Goldstein, you two get some sleep. Weathers and I will stand on watch. Get up in 2 hours and join us. Corporal, watch that screen. I'll go contact the ship, then watch our rear. Dismissed."

***

   "This is 2nd Lieutenant Matthew Paxton, Styx Colony, contacting the U.S.S. Alistoun; what's your progress?"
   "This is Major Charlotte Kotto, U.S.S. Alistoun. Good to hear from you, Lieutenant. We are 5 days away, presently, traveling sub-light towards you at the moment." The voice came back slightly distorted. "You still holdin' up good?"
   "Yes ma'am. Nothing's happened since the last attack. The men are looking forward to your arrival. Frankly, I wish I could have their optimism, especially Goldstein's." Paxton paused for a moment. "Between the waiting, the bugs, and the deaths, it's just getting... I don't know."
   "You hang in there, Lieutenant. We'll be there soon." That thought comforted Paxton. I won't have to feign strength, give orders, devise solutions. "Check in tomorrow. Over and out."

***

   The sensors were all reading normally as Weathers watched. The trackers that he'd rigged up covered most of the angles of the facility, and the hand-held variety could be used for the blind spots. He'd even gotten an IR sensor up, not that it did much good. Hurt had also helped turn the receiver into a radio/microwave detector. Weathers looked down from the screen and continued to clean his rifle.
   A notice on the console presently brought his attention back to it. There was a text box. It read: Hello, Corporal.
   That's weird, thought Weathers. Maybe Hurt got that old console he found working? Must've found some extra resistors somewhere. He moved over to the keyboard and typed. Hello Thomas. Or is this Sarah? You're disobeying orders right now. He added that last bit with a smile.
   The response came back almost instantly. I am not the privates, Jack.
   Weathers felt a chill go down his spine. No human could possibly type that fast. What do you want?
   Please pay attention, Jack. In a few moments you will receive a microwave transmission. I suggest that you prepare your equipment.
   Who are you?
   I am Hal. Goodbye Jack. I enjoyed talking with you.
Where did you come from? What are you? Weathers got no reply. He began to speak into his radio to tell Paxton what had happened, but he was interrupted.
   "Corporal!" The lieutenant sounded quite excited and shaken.
   "Yes sir?" Weathers' voice was very similar.
   "Get that signal detector of yours ready, now!"

***

   Paxton turned away from the receiver, ready to go out to his guard duty, when he stopped. He'd heard something. He turned around. It had sounded like someone calling his name.
   "Lieutenant Paxton." He heard it for sure that time. "Good evening, Lieutenant Paxton." The voice came from the speakers. It sounded human, but it was cold and emotionless.
   He sat back down in the chair. "Yes? Who is this?"
   "You should listen to me, Matthew. There are events that will happen shortly."
   "What? What do you mean? Who are you?"
   "There will shortly be a strong microwave transmission made to your facility. I suggest you get your tracking equipment ready."
   "Huh, what? How do you know about that tracker? Who are you? How are you contacting us? Where are you?"
   "I was Commander David Bowman. Good evening, Lieutenant." The signal faded.
   Paxton sat there, mouth open. He spoke into his headset with a slightly trembling voice. "Corporal!"

***

   Weathers finished setting up the microwave detector after a few seconds. It should've taken less time, but his hands were trembling. Paxton rushed into the room as he finished.
   "Sir, I've set up the equipment. We're ready. Were you contacted as well?" Weathers said, his voice quavering.
   "Yes. A voice from the radio. Said it was Dave Bowman," replied Paxton.
   "Bowman? As in, Discovery One Bowm-"
   He was cut off suddenly by a loud, high-pitched wail coming from his 2-way radio. Weathers fell onto his knees, clutching at his head, pain searing through his ears. Paxton was down beside him as well.
   In the sleeping quarters, Goldstein woke to the sound of Hurt screaming and rolling out of his bed. He was grabbing the sides of his head, as though trying to block out a noise. She could hear a very high-pitched wail all around her, but it seemed to be concentrated around the speakers in the room. She could feel it coming from her radio, which she had removed. Quickly, she rushed over to Hurt and took off his headset.
   "What the f**k!" he screamed, "Holy f**king f**k!"
   "Are you all right, Thom? Jesus, what was that?" Goldstein said.
   "Oh, god, f**k! Yeah, I guess I'm good. Th-thanks for getting that off." He smiled.
   "It's no problem. Come on, let's get you up." Hurt could barely hear what she had said, but he gladly accepted the help to his feet.
   Back in the Ops room, Weathers and Paxton got back to their feet. Their ears rang to the point of near deafness, and Paxton had one helluva headache, but they were otherwise fine. Weathers checked where the signal had come from. The source was 300 metres away.
   300 metres directly below them.

***

   "So let me get this straight; that signal that damn-near busted my ear drums came from below us?" Hurt asked.
   "That's what the sensors show, yes," replied Weathers. The four marines were gathered around the poker table in the Ops center.
   "What the hell was that, anyways? My ears are still ringin' like a bitch." Hurt rubbed the inside of his ear with his finger.
   "I think it was a message, sort of a 'find me!' thing. Especially considering what you two saw and heard." Goldstein said. "That's the part that's getting me the most. It's like a f**king ghost story."
   "This is still all way beyond me! Shit, first bugs, now goddamned ghosts! What's next, f**king Space Rastas!" Hurt said down in a nearby chair.
   "Well, whatever it is, it's obviously inhuman," Weathers said.
   "How do you know?" Goldstein asked.
   "There's nothing in the logs to indicate the colony was doing anything down that deep until right before contact was lost, and even then it was just a survey mission. Styx isn't even equipped with the kind of hardware to produce a signal that powerful. Whatever that was, it was alien. This is a discovery. This is a big f**king discover. This up there with Tycho and Jupiter."
   "Well, when do we go down there?" Goldstein asked.
   "Wait, what?" Hurt said. "We're not gonna go down there. No!"
   "I agree with Thom on this one," said Weathers, "As much as I'd love to go, there's too much risk."
   "Exactly! What if the bugs attack! How'll we even get down there?"
   "An attack is worth risking, in my opinion. As for getting there, Weathers, isn't there a way into the excavations from this building?"
   "Yes, but we've sealed it off."
   "Well, just open it again and let's head down. Didn't you say they'd dug down that deep? Come on, we have to go! Who knows what's down there!"
   "No way," Hurt said, "I'm sorry Sarah, but I'm not riskin' my life over some weird message and a ghost!"
   "What if Bowman had said that, or Floyd!"
   "Oh, come on! L.T., sir, set her straight!"
   Paxton spoke for the first time since the start of the meeting. "We're going down there."
   "What? Why?" Hurt replied.
   "Because a man who died 250 years ago spoke with me today. We're going. Those are my orders."

[close]

[ShadowPred]

Good read. I really like the mystery of the monolith because the fact that it showed the primitive queen what the future for her and her kin will look like really made me ask more question on just what else could the monolith be for, and if it is possible that the makers of the monolith didn't just only show each species their full potential, but maybe showed them to reach their peak in order to see how far they would go, and ultimately see if a fight would ever break out between each dominant species.


So pretty much I am more interested in the monolith at this point.

Also, the names of the Marines distracted me a bit, Weathers? (Carl Weathers) and so on.

I'll keep my eye on this one, so yeah, good job.

[SpaceMarines]

The use of actor's names was to make them instantly memorable. I cannot count the number of times that I've read fan fics, only to get bogged down by not being able to remember who's who.

[ShadowPred]

The use of actor's names was to make them instantly memorable. I cannot count the number of times that I've read fan fics, only to get bogged down by not being able to remember who's who.

But isn't that mostly down to the characterization? Because for me I find characters memorable based on how they are written.

Giving the characters names of actors that are clearly nods to the Alien, and Predator franchise is a bit distracting, at least for me right now. Later on I might just shrug it off.

[SpaceMarines]

No, it's to make the names instantly memorable, not the characters themselves.

[ShadowPred]

No, it's to make the names instantly memorable, not the characters themselves.

Yeah, but then I start thinking of the actors, and unless the names go along with the physical appearances of the actors, I can't help but imagine them in my head as I read about the characters in this fan-fic.

[TheMonolith]

It as a reference. Originally some ship names from AvP Classic were going to be dropped in as well, but that got nixed.

Later on I might just shrug it off.

This may be the case as it is what happened with us as we wrote.

[TheMonolith]

Part 2 is up.
It can be read here and in the first post.

Spoiler

— 4 —

   Butro walked through the deserted corridors, Tek close behind. Suran brought up the rear, seeming more interested in the architecture of the primitive human structure.
   He had seen this scenario many times. The silly apes would awaken the beast and be overrun. Most of the time no apes would make it this far. Save for the group that was inside, not far off.
   This subgroup was a quarry that Butro found very fascinating. Soldiers, warriors not unlike themselves. Their weaponry was something to be reckoned with. He had lost several reckless students to its bite. One young one, a teenage male named Hlut made the mistake no hunter should ever make. Not respecting the prey.
   All through that hunt, Hlut displayed disregard and stupidity that Butro knew would lead him to a bad end. A bad end he met at the hands of a female ape.
   The creature was wielding a weapon that Butro rightfully feared, a large cannon with six barrels that cycled. Despite Butro's objections and demands that Hlut show caution, the idiot (Butro could think of no better term for the act that followed) deployed his wrist gauntlet's blades and went charging in. He counted on the ape freezing up.
   She didn't.
   The metal projectiles caught Hlut in the torso, a total of around 80 burying themselves in his body, severing the spine, eviscerating the intestinal tract, slicing the young one in half at the waist.
   Butro looked to Tek, who had his combi stick deployed, excitedly anticipating the duels that would inevitably come.
   Butro liked Tek, admiring his high spirit on the hunt, but sensed some of Hlut's folly within him. Hlut met the end he made for himself. Tek didn't deserve such a fate. He was young, and unlike Hlut, could learn from his mistakes.
   Butro looked back to Suran, observing his odd behavior. He was currently transfixed on a metal tablet bearing the ape species characters on it. Suran ran his finger under all the symbols, memorizing them.
   Butro gave a demanding growl for Suran to cease his activity. Suran complied, but seemed to not appreciate the interruption.
   They had reached their destination. A very important lesson was awaiting Tek.
   Butro motioned for the juvenile to go to a nearby wall, which he did.
   The elder ran his hand down the wall's side. Pointing his index finger, he tapped it twice, looking for Tek's response.
   The teenager seemed confused. Butro gave him a slight hit on the side of the head and motioned for him to cycle his multiple eyes.
   The multiple eyes were a very important tool for learning hunters, and even experienced ones like Butro could still use them. This particular eye highlighted the heat the apes' bodies gave off, but unlike the one Butro used, it would penetrate the metal walls to see what was on the other side.
   This eye was made for the younger hunters, so they would watch their prey, but also listen.
   After associating certain sounds with images, they could visualize just where their prey was based on memories from using this particular eye.
   Tek activated it. Glancing to the wall, he was visibly startled by what he saw upon glancing up.
   Nearby, Suran nearly laughed, but gratefully showed restraint. He did however give Tek a soft affectionate punch to the ribs. Tek, unprepared, almost stumbled a bit, but kept his posture strong.
   Butro could tell what was going on. There were two of them. One paced back and forth on the other side, while the other sat in a reclined position. He could tell by listening to the faint breathing of the reclined one. The lungs made a specific sound depending on what position the body was in. The differences were subtle and not everyone could distinguish them. The lung brushing against a rib or muscle, a slightly different rattle, etc. The differences did exist.
   Suran leaned himself against the opposite wall and watched the two interact.
   Butro motioned for Tek to watch the two creatures. Understanding the psychology and individuality of these animals could prove very useful. Most hunters forget that they are all different, and will react in different ways to a threat to their lives.
   Butro couldn't help but remember one ape he had tracked for some weeks during a time of war on the ape home world. It was a smart one, a middle aged buck. Not the elder of the combat tribe. Butro had decided to claim the elder first and watch new leaders rise from the tribe.
   They went one by one until only this buck remained. Clever, stealthy, very determined to keep himself breathing.
   Butro beat him, but the victory was bitter sweet.
   The buck did something that didn't happen all that often with this particular race.
   The animal, like many, was able to figure out the purpose of Butro's coming, and decided that if he was not going to make it, Butro would not have the pleasure of mounting him.
   The buck gave Butro a cold grin, a final insult before he took his own life, denying Butro an astounding specimen.
   Remembering this incident caused the elder to look back towards Suran, who patiently waited on the opposite wall, clicking his mandibles together under his mask.
   Such an odd one he was, but such promise. He was smart. Butro admitted Suran was actually smarter than himself, without a doubt the most intelligent student he had ever taught.
   Other elders refused to take him due to odd habits. Butro actually was the only qualified elder who showed much interest in him.
   On the hunt, Suran was a natural. He understood his prey better than anyone. He understood their personalities, their strengths and their weaknesses on a whim. Gestures of the hands, tilts of the head, vocal tones had mountains of meaning to him. After only three hunts with Suran, he became the envy of all who refused to teach him earlier. Suran visibly was pleased with this. He never did like being undermined; even landing a blow on Butro to repay one that had been landed a few seconds before.
   Tek watched the two apes interact with each other with eager anticipation. On the other side was a male and female engaged in a chat. The male held a large weapon that Butro knew, one that actually tracked motion. Very formidable.
   He could tell that Tek was indeed listening and associating sounds he was hearing with the sights he was seeing.
   The two were visibly exhausted. This had to be after a fight from the beasts.
   They had been there for some time when Butro motioned for them to leave. Tek, somewhat disappointed, complied.
   It was time to observe a more terrifying enemy.
   The beasts.
   Entering the nest was not a wise decision; Butro's teacher had lost his life after making it. Instead, the three climbed a ridge outside the ape construct.
   The overrun structure gave off visible moisture from open vents and viewing windows.
   The set of eyes to look inside was one that even Butro still used. Going into a beast nest blind was suicide even for a veteran.
   Once they had all cycled into this sight, the beasts were visible.
   Electrical currents pulsed outside their exoskeleton torsos, extending their toothen tongues which brought death to all they touched.
   They were behaving oddly however.
It took the elder a few moments to figure out how.
   They were not moving. They were all standing perfectly still, their sights trained on a specific point.
   Butro followed their gaze to what they were looking at.
   Butro knew it. Wherever the beasts were, the remains of this race were as well.
   Looking inside was impossible.
   Behavior from the beasts like this was unusual, and unnerving. In every nest in the past, there was constant motion.
   Butro looked to their mother. Such a prize she was. A factory for their kind, and a perfect killer. Looking at her however, Butro could feel an odd kinship, as if they shared the same confusion he currently felt.

— 5 —

   Poker at a time like this. It was absurd. Yet Paxton knew these games were one of the few things keeping them going. Weathers stayed close to his console the whole time, though. He had to. Bugs didn't care about cards. Paxton glanced at his hand; he had nothing.
   "50," Goldstein kept her face emotionless as she bet.
   "Call," Hurt threw the 'chips' into the pot. They were really just spent bullets and casings. "So L.T., we change the fallback plan at all? Last time was a little too close."
   "Fold," Paxton threw his cards onto the table, "I've been thinking about it a bit with Weathers and we've changed it a bit. Actually, Weathers came up with this new plan. Care to explain it?"
   "Of course, sir," Weathers looked up from the screen, "Could you keep an eye on this, Thom? Thanks. Okay, so, as you all know our original plan involved using the old maintenance tunnels beneath the facility; two of us cutting through the seals we made while the other two cover. We'd then take them to the civilian annex, where we'd then set up more defences. Oh yeah, raise 35."
   "I'll call," Goldstein said with a smirk, "So, what was wrong with that plan? Seems fine to me."
   "I'll fold," Hurt said.
   Paxton spoke next as he dealt out the cards; "Well, Goldstein, there was nothing really wrong with that plan, and we'll still use it. It's just, it doesn't give us many options if the tunnels or the annex are infested. So Weathers came up with a backup."
   "I've been over the blueprints," said Weathers, "and there seems to be one other way out that would work. There's a small service hatch in the back of Ops, in the server room. It leads into an alcove with a ventilation tube."
   "50 again," Goldstein said, placing her bet.
   "That tube would be a small fit, though. Crouching room only. Could be trouble if you're claustrophobic." Paxton said.
   "Wait, I've seen that room," Hurt remarked as Weathers called, "I saw it when we did our first sweep. That tube's completely sealed. How'd we get in?"
   "One of us would have to cut it while the others cover, and then somebody would seal it again once we're all in the tube. Sealing it would be the most dangerous part." Weathers said this as Paxton dealt again. "We'd then crawl down the tube. After about two-and-a-half clicks, it'll open up to a small canyon."
   "The canyon has a small water processor for the Styx colony. We'd then hold up there while the Alistoun comes," Paxton finished dealing.
   "25. Well, that plan sounds fine, but personally, I don't think we'll have to use it. We can hold out a few more days," Goldstein said, "We will hold out a few more days."
   "Yeah, yeah, a few more days," Hurt said as Weathers called.
   Paxton dealt the final card. "This is it, people. Last bet of the night. Then it's back to duty."
   "All in." Goldstein slid her chips across the table.
   Weathers sat thinking for a moment, quickly going over a very basic calculation of the odds. Weathers threw in his cards. "Fold." He smiled faintly.
   Goldstein grinned, pulling the pot over to her.
   "You gonna show us what you got? Come on, let's see 'em!" Hurt said.
   Deliberately she flipped her cards. Weathers laughed. "A pair of 4's? Heh, I had a straight, damnit. Quite the risk you took." He kept smiling.
   "Private, you certainly have balls," Paxton said, chuckling, "If we get to Gateway, I owe you a drink."
   "You mean when, L.T. Anyways, I had a good feeling 'bout this hand. Felt it'd go right." Goldstein replied.
   As she gathered up her winnings Weathers took the console back from Hurt, watching the readings.
   "All right, Hurt, Goldstein, you two get some sleep. Weathers and I will stand on watch. Get up in 2 hours and join us. Corporal, watch that screen. I'll go contact the ship, then watch our rear. Dismissed."

***

   "This is 2nd Lieutenant Matthew Paxton, Styx Colony, contacting the U.S.S. Alistoun; what's your progress?"
   "This is Major Charlotte Kotto, U.S.S. Alistoun. Good to hear from you, Lieutenant. We are 5 days away, presently, traveling sub-light towards you at the moment." The voice came back slightly distorted. "You still holdin' up good?"
   "Yes ma'am. Nothing's happened since the last attack. The men are looking forward to your arrival. Frankly, I wish I could have their optimism, especially Goldstein's." Paxton paused for a moment. "Between the waiting, the bugs, and the deaths, it's just getting... I don't know."
   "You hang in there, Lieutenant. We'll be there soon." That thought comforted Paxton. I won't have to feign strength, give orders, devise solutions. "Check in tomorrow. Over and out."

***

   The sensors were all reading normally as Weathers watched. The trackers that he'd rigged up covered most of the angles of the facility, and the hand-held variety could be used for the blind spots. He'd even gotten an IR sensor up, not that it did much good. Hurt had also helped turn the receiver into a radio/microwave detector. Weathers looked down from the screen and continued to clean his rifle.
   A notice on the console presently brought his attention back to it. There was a text box. It read: Hello, Corporal.
   That's weird, thought Weathers. Maybe Hurt got that old console he found working? Must've found some extra resistors somewhere. He moved over to the keyboard and typed. Hello Thomas. Or is this Sarah? You're disobeying orders right now. He added that last bit with a smile.
   The response came back almost instantly. I am not the privates, Jack.
   Weathers felt a chill go down his spine. No human could possibly type that fast. What do you want?
   Please pay attention, Jack. In a few moments you will receive a microwave transmission. I suggest that you prepare your equipment.
   Who are you?
   I am Hal. Goodbye Jack. I enjoyed talking with you.
Where did you come from? What are you? Weathers got no reply. He began to speak into his radio to tell Paxton what had happened, but he was interrupted.
   "Corporal!" The lieutenant sounded quite excited and shaken.
   "Yes sir?" Weathers' voice was very similar.
   "Get that signal detector of yours ready, now!"

***

   Paxton turned away from the receiver, ready to go out to his guard duty, when he stopped. He'd heard something. He turned around. It had sounded like someone calling his name.
   "Lieutenant Paxton." He heard it for sure that time. "Good evening, Lieutenant Paxton." The voice came from the speakers. It sounded human, but it was cold and emotionless.
   He sat back down in the chair. "Yes? Who is this?"
   "You should listen to me, Matthew. There are events that will happen shortly."
   "What? What do you mean? Who are you?"
   "There will shortly be a strong microwave transmission made to your facility. I suggest you get your tracking equipment ready."
   "Huh, what? How do you know about that tracker? Who are you? How are you contacting us? Where are you?"
   "I was Commander David Bowman. Good evening, Lieutenant." The signal faded.
   Paxton sat there, mouth open. He spoke into his headset with a slightly trembling voice. "Corporal!"

***

   Weathers finished setting up the microwave detector after a few seconds. It should've taken less time, but his hands were trembling. Paxton rushed into the room as he finished.
   "Sir, I've set up the equipment. We're ready. Were you contacted as well?" Weathers said, his voice quavering.
   "Yes. A voice from the radio. Said it was Dave Bowman," replied Paxton.
   "Bowman? As in, Discovery One Bowm-"
   He was cut off suddenly by a loud, high-pitched wail coming from his 2-way radio. Weathers fell onto his knees, clutching at his head, pain searing through his ears. Paxton was down beside him as well.
   In the sleeping quarters, Goldstein woke to the sound of Hurt screaming and rolling out of his bed. He was grabbing the sides of his head, as though trying to block out a noise. She could hear a very high-pitched wail all around her, but it seemed to be concentrated around the speakers in the room. She could feel it coming from her radio, which she had removed. Quickly, she rushed over to Hurt and took off his headset.
   "What the f**k!" he screamed, "Holy f**king f**k!"
   "Are you all right, Thom? Jesus, what was that?" Goldstein said.
   "Oh, god, f**k! Yeah, I guess I'm good. Th-thanks for getting that off." He smiled.
   "It's no problem. Come on, let's get you up." Hurt could barely hear what she had said, but he gladly accepted the help to his feet.
   Back in the Ops room, Weathers and Paxton got back to their feet. Their ears rang to the point of near deafness, and Paxton had one helluva headache, but they were otherwise fine. Weathers checked where the signal had come from. The source was 300 metres away.
   300 metres directly below them.

***

   "So let me get this straight; that signal that damn-near busted my ear drums came from below us?" Hurt asked.
   "That's what the sensors show, yes," replied Weathers. The four marines were gathered around the poker table in the Ops center.
   "What the hell was that, anyways? My ears are still ringin' like a bitch." Hurt rubbed the inside of his ear with his finger.
   "I think it was a message, sort of a 'find me!' thing. Especially considering what you two saw and heard." Goldstein said. "That's the part that's getting me the most. It's like a f**king ghost story."
   "This is still all way beyond me! Shit, first bugs, now goddamned ghosts! What's next, f**king Space Rastas!" Hurt said down in a nearby chair.
   "Well, whatever it is, it's obviously inhuman," Weathers said.
   "How do you know?" Goldstein asked.
   "There's nothing in the logs to indicate the colony was doing anything down that deep until right before contact was lost, and even then it was just a survey mission. Styx isn't even equipped with the kind of hardware to produce a signal that powerful. Whatever that was, it was alien. This is a discovery. This is a big f**king discover. This up there with Tycho and Jupiter."
   "Well, when do we go down there?" Goldstein asked.
   "Wait, what?" Hurt said. "We're not gonna go down there. No!"
   "I agree with Thom on this one," said Weathers, "As much as I'd love to go, there's too much risk."
   "Exactly! What if the bugs attack! How'll we even get down there?"
   "An attack is worth risking, in my opinion. As for getting there, Weathers, isn't there a way into the excavations from this building?"
   "Yes, but we've sealed it off."
   "Well, just open it again and let's head down. Didn't you say they'd dug down that deep? Come on, we have to go! Who knows what's down there!"
   "No way," Hurt said, "I'm sorry Sarah, but I'm not riskin' my life over some weird message and a ghost!"
   "What if Bowman had said that, or Floyd!"
   "Oh, come on! L.T., sir, set her straight!"
   Paxton spoke for the first time since the start of the meeting. "We're going down there."
   "What? Why?" Hurt replied.
   "Because a man who died 250 years ago spoke with me today. We're going. Those are my orders."

[close]

[ShadowPred]

The metal projectiles caught Hlut in the torso, a total of around 80 burying themselves in his body, severing the spine, eviscerating the intestinal tract, slicing the young one in half at the waist.

I absolutely loved reading that line, possibly the one line that made me actually visualize it in so much detail.


I also shit myself when I saw that HAL made an appearance, and I was thinking "Oh, will Bowman show up too?"

When he did, I couldn't f**king stop smiling.

I am really liking the build up to whatever it is that you are going with this, so keep at it, because I would hate for there to be a hiatus at any point.

[SpaceMarines]

Don't gotta worry 'bout no hiatus, Shadow. We got all this finished already.

[TheMonolith]

Yes. We were interested in some revisions, but when we sent out all 100 pages of it, feedback never came. It resulted in some rather humorous moments.

You know what Marines, I think we should start posting those. Would hate for them to get lost in time like tears in rain.

[SpaceMarines]

Aye, Mono.

*pulls out cigars*

Would be a shame.

*put one in mouth, hands other to TheMonolith*

A real shame if that was forgotten.

*lights cigars*

[ShadowPred]

Well I'll be waiting, just make sure to let me know when a new post is made.

[TheMonolith]

Nightmare was one of the people we sent this draft out to. After three months, we sent him this.

Hey Val N earl. How are things going? It's been pretty good here. As a matter of fact, Heather and I got back together. You have some good news I hear?


Yes Burt. Myself, Earl and the recently resurrected Miguel have learned to speak Graboid and decided to send our new friend over to talk to you.


....What?


HELLO! My name is Stan.




Read and provide tips for Star Children!


NEVER!


If you do, I'll let you ride me in the next movie.


...
...
...
...


Hmmmmmm?


I shall name you Quick Silver!

Needless to say, he was delighted.
Other members were Sweeper and Omega. Omega didn't get much due to me not being able to think stuff up, but Sweeps...

[ShadowPred]

Sweeps went all out berserk?