The Doctor spent his night in a restless state, his cynical nature had crushed down the idea that the flash was no more that a passing piece of dust but deep down his thirst for adventure had captured his imagination. Though he could keep this under wrap it gave him no peace that night...not that he slept anyway. He wondered how they would actually face up to a real threat imagining the fiercest creatures they had hunted, engaging his memories.

Perhaps it was the thrill of death that made him feel almost excited at the prospect of destruction heading their way. The taste of adventure still lingering on his mind the elder walked the outpost. stood and looked onto the unforgiving landscape and inwardly though perhaps this is a good place to die.

The morning came with such percision and the new days labour was being prepared for that was untill the pillar of smoke was seen by his keen eyed brothers.
they looked to each other with almost disbelief and for once the elder had been glad he was wrong.

The three quickly gathered close as the doctor also scanned the horizon to see the smoke towering upwards...

Stumbling through the wreackage of the ship, the damage it made to the sandy plains was devastating, and the sound... fuck. Delta thought. If any hostiles where here they'd know the presence of outsiders, although this planet was deemed dormant apart from the local fauna.

He salvaged his M41A1 pulse rifle with his famed holo-sight, and his Ka-Bar was in its sheath, as was his Deagle. He pulled his full face helmet off, the long ballistic black visor reflected the sun, he breathed in deeply and felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

He dusted off his M3 matte black armour, the symbol of WY stenciled on his right armoured deltoid, the sullen yellow stuck out against the harsh black of his armour. Many survivors from the crash came out through improvised door ways from the crash, he scanned for the Alpha Draconis marines, noticed some and approached them.

"Afternoon Malus". Delta indicated with a nod of his head, his features hid away from the man he'd swore he would kill at later time.

Deathdrop threw himself against the door of the main complex and began pounding on it furiously.

"Let me IN, damn it all!"

The doors creaked as they slid to the side, and Deathdrop squeeszed in before they could even finish opening. The guards, normally accustomed to his antics, looked more than a little concerned. Here was Deathdrop, of the most infamous Queen hunt of all time, high out of his mind, covered in blood, laughing, and without the attendant they'd sent out with him.

It didn't help that the base had been hit only a few minutes ago with what appeared to chunks of space debris. Something was goin on, and they wanted an answer as to what it was.

"Where are the elders?!" he yelled.

"Elder, please calm down-"

He had not been an elder for a VERY long time. When anyone called him "elder", the inflection of their voice said "mad old fool".

"You're growing another head and you expect me to calm down?"

The realization hit them: He had found his way into the medical locker. They tried to get him to sit, but Deathdrop would have none of it.

"We have what may or may not be a human ship! I've studied the debris, and this trash is no Yautja metal! I need ELDERS, swine!"

"Deathdrop, the other elders were taking the workers up to one of the outposts. They will not return for-"

"Then we're alone! We'll have to face the humans using only our- Paya's Blood! We have a communications device in this place, don't we?"

"Yes! Come, elder, we'll take you there."

As soon as he entered the hallway, the doors slammed and locked behind him. The bastards! The drugs must still be in his system; they'd never be able to trick him like that if he'd been sober.

"Ungrateful welps! If I weren't high I'd kill you myself!"

Unfortunantly, that was when the flashbacks started.

Ds is trapped in a cell ds looks at the door and saw that a few bolts were out of there place so he rams the door 5 times until the door came down so ds gos out
And looks arou but sees nothing so he go`s out and looks around and see`s gaunt so ds go`s to him and say`s“ where the rest of the hiveâ€Â
And gaunt points to fire hunter and shadow ds then looks at the humans and runs inside and hides from the humans so that they don't see him then ds go`s our the other end of the ship and find`s some shelter then stays there until the fighting stops

Predator428 angrily marched towards the on site med-bay, anxious to exert his power on any of the miners that where causing the racket emanating from it. Even if he was not permitted to go on any hunts until his time on this planet was complete, he could still take out his pent up anger on the ones Predator428 had been ordered to keep in line.

He had original been on his way to the communication and sensory tower, to try and find an explanation for the tower of dust he had spotted earlier. But the sounds of fighting had drawn him away, and besides, most of the other workers had told him it was just a large meteor crash.

The predator knew that he could do whatever the hell he pleased with anyone that would "disrupt the efficient work environment of the miners". Even if Predator428's first action was to behead the predator closest to the med-bay's door, the others would not make any action against him. The lives of the miners were worthless and they were aware of it. The death of even their closest friend would not be a great enough cause for them to attack a social better.

Predator428 turned the final corner, opening his mouth to let out an angry shout-until he saw the hunter that was causing the disturbance. Deathdrop, a legendary hunter and one of the fiercest combatants that had ever been apart of the Hunter's Moon clan.

Predator428 immediately stopped his actions. He no longer had the intent of murdering the one responsible for berating the workers. He severely doubted he would have been able to succeed.

The hunter watched as Deathdrop furiously stormed out of the room and down the hallway, his mind set on something. What was going on? First there were reports of some sort of large meteor crashing out in the deserts, and now the former Elder of Hunter's Moon was off in his own world. Predator428 decided to try and find Black Warrior, to make some sort of sense of what was going on.

How...Ridiculious.

Gaunt looked around, What was going to happen next?
His leader had left, And the mindless drones like DS just happened to follow him.

Was there any point following Firehunter anymore?, Firehunter seemed to think he was invincible and would probably get everyone killed. Gaunt knew what would happen if he tried to form his own Hive, He would face three enimeys on the battlefield ,The Humans, The Preds and other Xeno's.

Was it worth the risk?, The odds of Firehunter forgiving him would be almost non existent, It would be better to form a Hive without the others and see who would join afterwards.

Gaunt now had some new objectives,:

• 1)Gather Drones for the Hive.

• 2)Form the Hive.

• 3)Make a Queen.

• 4)Survive.

Gaunt emediattly put his plan into action, He started to run down the corridoors looking in every room, Looking for any other Xeno's that survived to to follow him, His plan was now in motion, Would he get stopped?

Dust and dirt swirled by on the path, slightly clouding the visor of Black Warrior. The hunter walked on, observing the uneven terrain of solid rock and soil at his feet. Black Warrior grunted, he had already passed a night of harsh cold and deathly silence, without sleep or rest, now the sun had risen again, its firey gaze directed on the hunter. The heat wasnt unbearable, as any honorable yautja should be able to withstand...and it certainly wasnt anywhere close to the searing beams of the sun during that hunt...The Bleeding Star...where the sun turned anything that was caught into a smoldering crisp.

Besides, Black Warrior has been on hunts before, and had many scars to show. Most notable were the large patch of swirled skin covering the back and palm of his left hand...repaired from its mangled state with a metallic glove and surgery. There was once a hole there, back on the hunt of Lost Souls, he had Xeuss to thank for that. Then there was the scar across his cheek...one Kidd had given him some time ago...

However, now the heat was quite annoying, as when moisture accumulates, dirt will stick anywhere. Black Warrior's dark green tint of armor was turning a foggy brown in the clinging uprising of dirt.

The reptilian fingers of the God of Death ran smoothly along the many controls and switches covering his left wrist panel. Luminous flashes of red broke into the hunters peripheral vision as he entered his commands. Within his helmet, a slightly transparent screen appeared in the visor. Calculations were set and displayed across the screen, and a flood of colors danced across the face of Black Warrior.

Distance: 1 mile.

The hunter focused out into his surroundings, and his trek was coming to an end....The God of Death broke into a sprint, heading for the main facility...

He wondered if he'd be the only guard in the area...and where his clan was.

PREDATOR tried to shake the grogginess from the previous night off, it left him feeling foggy and irritated. Leaving the confines of the outpost, watching the mine workers prepare for the long expedition to the main processing facility.

Discovering the dark cloud of smoke drifting in the sky miles to the east did not help matters. That was no comet or asteroid only a ship constructed by the human species burned in such a way, spewing their toxic chemicals into the already hazardous atmosphere. Through many years of dealing with the humans; PREDATOR had become quite accustom to their simple technology and combat behavior. In large groups heavily armed, the humans could pose a threat, otherwise they were a minor irritation.

These humans however posed a very real threat, it was only a matter of time before they stumbled upon one of the many outposts located in this area, with that information these humans could be the undoing to this entire operation, which was somehow appealing to PREDATOR, he shouted his finding to his brothers, Stalker paused scanning the horizon. Stalker confirmed what PREDATOR was thinking, he approached the doctor and Stalker as to conceal the conversation from the mine workers.

“Humans..†PREDATOR said in a deep, menacing voice. The doctor and Stalker nodded in agreement, the question now was, what should be done.

He'd only realised he'd found the communications room after vomiting a few times; he'd been talking as if he were still in the main hallway.

He tried to make himself stop talking, but the bezerker injections he'd used to run back to the base so quickly had not mixed well with everything else in his system; it was as if there was a delay between his mind thinking and his body doing. It was wearing off, but not nearly fast enough.

Crouching to avoid falling over, Deathdrop inched his way across the room to the communications system. When he tried to simply put his hands on it, he fell against it like a drunk and wrapped his arms around it to avoid falling.

"Wake UP, you old shit..." he told himself as he slowly got to his feet. He carefully guided his fingers to the proper controls.

He'd have to contact one of the elders and form some sort of plan if they were going to take care of the human situation. He punched the old machine several times before it finally started to work.

He set it to all frequencies, hoping the elders were at at least one of the outposts.

"Stalker or... Or the others-Human ship! Humans... Possible invasion. Poor bastards around here not up to it... Pick UP, damn it!"

Now he had only to wait...

... and hope the crash hadn't destroyed whatever shitty reception the Yautja had left.

Predator428 stood outside of the main facility's gates, patiently waiting for Black Warrior to arrive from the ancient graveyard a few miles out. The planet's hot sun was steadily rising, casting comfortable warm rays over the hunter's face as the new day of work continued on. Dust and small pebbles danced across his bare feet as a slight wind fell over the area.

Black Warrior was one of his fellow hunter's that Predator428 truly trusted. He had fought side by side with him aboard the derelict clanship and had cleared the xenomorph and human infestation from its depths. He was glad to have this hunter by his side in these confusing times.

At least, Predator428 spotted his fellow clan warrior coming across a nearby hill, calmly approaching in full armor. Predator428 clasped Black Warrior's forearm in his clawed hand and gave a sharp nod. Predator428 began speaking in his native tongue of barks and clicks.

"Welcome back, brother. It is good to see a familiar face. I require your assistance in discovering what has transpired out in the-"

Predator428's words were cut off as a miner foreman exited the refinery doors and raced towards the pair. The foreman gave a quick bow, almost forgetting his etiquette due to his urgency. He began to shout in a exasperated voice clearly intent on delivering his news.

"Hunters of Balatu, The object that crashed in out in the wastes, it was not a meteor but defiantly a vessel of some kind. Many guards and our own preliminary reports suggest that the ship is not of yautja design, but of alien origin, possibly even human! I am on my way to inform whatever guards I can find and keep the news secret from the lower miners. Their work cannot be disrupted!"

The foreman ran off back towards the facility as Predator428 analyzed this new information. Foreign beings we here, most likely humans. The predator knew the importance of this mining operation, knew that its greatest strength was secrecy. Now its safety was up the ones who guarded it, the hunters of Balatu and Hunter's Moon.

Predator428 turned to Black Warrior.

"We must contact our elders and coordinate our plans, do you know of any way we can reach them?"

Xavier awoke with a start. Followed by this was a loud shout of â€ÂFACEHUGGER!†followed by three loud gunshots in rapid succession. The hugger may have looked dead, but you could never be sure and it was one of those quick reactions that you develop and never really get over. Xavier rolled sideways and quickly glanced over those in the room. He counted two friendlies, one marine, technically friendly, and one of the W-Y guys, not so much a friendly. They were meant to be friendly, but he had been one of them. He knew how they thought and didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them. They probably had something to do with the ship going down, but accusations like that could wait until they figured out where the hell they were and got off the god forsaken ship.

Pulling himself up out of the pile of pulse rifles, Xavier began scrambling around. His Python had come free of the holster and his SIG Carbine had been sitting on a table, and they both were now somewhere in the mess of an armoury. Not to mention the fact that he needed to find his armour and M240 Flame Unit. The armour and flame unit was actually the easy part; he could see them sitting against the wall on the other side of the armoury, the revolver and carbine on the other hand... They might be difficult. Glancing down at his feet as he stood, he spotted the scoped python revolver. Well, that was one less thing to find. Bending down, He picked up the revolver and returned it to the holster, clipping it in properly this time. He started over to where his armour leant against the wall, glancing around looking for the SIG as he did.

If that rifle was damaged, he was going to kill someone. The flame unit may be his primary issued weapon, but it was incredibly useless at long range, He needed that rifle. Reaching the armour, he shifted the flamer onto the floor beside it and picked up the breastplate. Unlike the standard M3 armour, this stuff was special. Xavier had painted and modified it to the point that no other set of armour looked the same, but that was a general thing with marines anyway. The only distinguishing markings were IR as well, making it very difficult to establish who he was if he was ever captured on an operation. As Xavier finished strapping his armour on, he lifted the last shin guard to find the pile of clips that had been sitting next to his rifle. Shoving them in his combat webbing, he turned to face Malus. “Oi. You seen that bloody rifle of mine?†He called out to him across the armoury. “If I don’t find it, Someone is gonna die. Probably one of these W-Y arseholes.â€Â. He wasn’t kidding either. He found it a good way of venting his anger.

Sam Dunn looked around, trying to get his bearings. People were starting to pile into the Armoury now, like a trickle of blood from a shallow wound. He inclined his head in greeting to Ellesa as she entered, looking like hell and undoubtedly as impressed by the whole situation as he was. She murmured some gratitude at seeing that he'd made it, and in response his right eyebrow slowly ascended towards his Akubra hat. He hadn't expected anything like that from the gruff Lieutenant. He got the funny feeling that she really didn't like him at all. Ah, she was a Yank, he didn't expect anything different.

"Good to see you haven't kicked the bucket either, Maám." He said with a grin as he lifted his arm towards the brim of his hat with the intention of making a halfhearted salute, before stopping suddenly as a sharp pain shot through his arm. He looked down, and swore fluently for a few seconds.
"Fuckaduck! Crikey dick, it's in me fuckin ARM" That bloody phillip's screwdriver was sticking out of his goddamn upper arm. He shook his head and muttered for a few more moments before grabbing the hanle with his free arm and yanking it clear from the meat of his arm.

"Just me bloody luck! First I lose it, then I end up getting raped by it. Bloody oath." He muttered darkly as he threw it into the nether regions of the armoury, before saying. "Excuse me, I gotta take a shit." And disappearing from the armoury in the direction of the nearest toilet, his survival pack clutched in his good hand.

Whilst he got out of his shit-ridden pants and made sure that his personal hygeine was restored, he heard the first reply on the comms. Well, Ripper was alive after all. That was a relief. "Ripper! Good to hear from ya mate!" He said over the comms as he wriggled himself into a fresh pair of pants and put a bandage on his arm. "We're right next door in the armoury, join us eh?" He added, before he was cut off by a series of screams that flooded the comm.

Fuck. He knew that voice. The moment his belt was done and the evidence was disposed of, he shouted "BAZZA!" And shot out of the dunny like a lizard drinking. He sprinted back to the armoury, his pack in hand, his bandaged arm still leaking blood from the screwdriver wound. He sprinted straight past Delta and Ellesa and grabbed the larger radio that was on the floor. He switched it on and activated the 'talk' button. "Bazza? Mate, where are you?" He asked, but was only replied to with more screams. "ANSWER ME, YOU BLOODY DRONGO!" He shouted, desperation taking over.

Then, the screams went silent and the roar of a Xenomorph echoed through the comms. He got to his feet and numbly sat down on a nearby upturned crate. They all knew perfectly well that Bazza was gone...
"Fuck... He breathed as shaking hands grabbed a cigar from his armoured cigar case and lit it. He took a few deep breaths, letting the nicotine flood his system, before he opened his eyes and allowed himself to speak.

Of course, before he said anything, gunshots rang through the room as Xavier shouted "FACEHUGGER". After the firing had stopped, Sam rounded on Xavier.
"Crikey mate! Ya almost made me shit bricks." Sam said, holding a hand over his chestplate. He already was in full armour, having the habit of never taking it off, not even in crysleep. Sure, it was painful as all fuck when he woke up, but he found the extra protection made him sleep easier. He walked over to the now smoking facehugger. It was dead.

Oh. That wasn't good news. Either he, Xavier or Jean had been facefucked in thier sleep. Shit. He looked around at the others, realizing that they were milling around with no idea what to do.

After that, it was serious mode. "Okay everyone. Here's the drill. We've crashed in fuck-knows where, and we're going to be here for fuck-knows-how-long. SO, we need to be ready for a long stay, and possibly a fight. Xavier, you're on gun gathering duty. I want six Pulse Rifles, two flamers and two Smartguns plus enough ammo for a long stay packed and ready for transport. Use the duffel bags. Ripper, if you're listening, you're on supply duty. I want food, water, shelter and beer packed, enough for a few weeks. Use the duffel bags too." He looked at Xavier for acknowledgement, before glancing down at the bug. It had been dead before Xavier had shot it, he thought, but it certianly was even more dead now.

He then walked over to the synthetic that he and Xavier had repaired, and placed a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. "Jean if you're up for it I need you to head to the hangar bay and see if any of our vehicles are still working, especially the Feral and Dropship. Take Delta with you. I'll send Genesey down if I can find her. If you find anything that we can salvage or use, call me on the comms.

Xavier, Ripper, have the duffel bags packed in two neat rows, front row is weapons, back row is supplies. Comm me when you're done. We don't have the luxury of time here people, so let's get it done quick! Ellesa, if you'd come with me please, I need to talk to you about something important." He ordered at large, his commanding presence and his taking charge of the situation demanding obedience. He looked around, then motioned for Ellesa to follow, but ended up faceplanting the ground as he tripped over something.

Xavier's rifle.

He picked himself back up onto his feet and then picked up the carbine. "Oh, I found it!" He called out to the group at large, before lobbing it lightly towards Xavier, knowing that the Commtech would catch it. He then proceeded out of the armoury as if he hadn't just tripped over.

He walked towards the Bug Labs, knowing that Ellesa would follow. She was in command, but he had the experience and she knew it too. "As far as I can tell, we havn't been sucked out into space so nothing hit or shot us, Maám. If the reactor had gone boom on its own, we'd all be dead too. Bazza would have reported it in if the bugs had escaped, he'd have had time, so that rules out all the standard excuses for why we're down here and not up there." He said, pointing towards the ceiling with a blood-covered finger. He'd apparently forgotten about his arm wound.

"That means an explosive inside here. A bomb. Maám, someone here isn't on our side." He finished, when he was damn sure he was out of earshot of everyone else. He didn't want to alert the traitor that he was onto them. Oh hell no.

With his hand resting on his Python .357 Silhouette (something of a signature weapon in Outback Squad), he stepped cautiously through the busted corridors of the ship, heading towards where the bugs had been. He didn't get very far before he saw him.

Spine removed, blood everywhere, Bazza looked like he'd been to hell and back. Now, he wasn't going anywhere. Sam managed to keep it together for a few moments, before collapsing to his knees, tears already choking him up. "Mate...mate, I'm so sorry." Was all he managed to say as he looked helplessley at the corpse of his friend and right-hand man.

Jean found herself in the corridors but the corridors of the ship were all screwed up. There were places that used to be well lit, illuminated, and with twelve feet of clearance over and across for personnel to walk around in. Now, most these places were caved, or melted in by plasma fires that have since burnt out after the fire suppression systems kicked in. Now the hallways were only lit by her flashlight as she squeezed through the cramped spaces that were caved in with support beams, warped and melted bulkheads...

The little android managed to fit her small frame through the debris and land on a port-side deck at the other end of the mess she got herself through. She activated her flashlight and looked around the moment she got through the other side.

She quietly made it into the bay. One drop ship was limp on its side. The gear was practically blown off of it, and the APC had a gaping hole in it’s side. It looked as if it had been destroyed intentionally.

“That’s not right,†Jean whispered.

If she were human, she would be dwelling on how to serve the bad news.

A satisfying thud echoed throughout the air as Avier finally exited the downed craft. He had chosen to wait as he saw various humans exit the craft. There was no need to rush into a confrontation. None of the others had followed him, he was fine with that. Large numbers brought attention.

His immediate reaction to the surface was disgust. It was empty. The emptiness stretched all around him. Avier crawled his way towards the top of the drowned craft. Surveying the area from higher ground gave him less hope then before. There was barren dessert was everywhere. Perhaps underground caves existed underneath the dunes, or, to the north east there seemed to be something, but there was no telling at this distance.

Avier’s initial conclusion was to turn back into the ship and finish off anything left living inside. A hollowed out ship with half dead hosts seemed the best option for a new Hive. Had the world been more accommodating he may have been able to disappear but now it seemed like his only choice was to stick with the others and fashion a new Hive in their current location.

Avier found an exhaust duct nearby and reentered the ship. The ducts were more cramped then his cell, but he found the motivation to keep going. He clawed through the ducts, noticing small groups of humans beginning to form. He ignored them despite his hunger for their flesh. Instead he continued to slink through the narrow ducts, keeping an eye out for his brothers, and also a place for a Queen.

He ran first into Gaunt, he seemed capable enough. A series of hisses and Gaunt had informed Avier of Firehunter’s actions. Avier hissed his agreement. Firehunter had been impatient, had rushed head first into conflict without checking to see if it was a fight they could win. For a moment he wondered if Firehunter would find anything, he doubted it, but the possibility of caves had some allure over him. Perhaps even with connecting tunnels, but that chance seemed slim enough that Avier ignored it.

As they hissed back and forth Gaunt made his intentions clear that he believed another Hive would be the best option. Avier disagreed, they needed to gather and recoup their strength. There was no doubt Firehunter would want to molt, and Avier had no qualms with that, but as Firehunter did so they needed to stake out a Hive.

Avier wouldn’t risk calling his other brethren when so many humans were around. It was clear they needed to gather. He hissed his thoughts to Gaunt. They needed more of their own kind, a long hiss from Gaunt told him he agreed.

The headset sat snuggly in her ear, the mouth piece just inches from her mouth. She was talking as one would on a cell phone head piece. “Nate.†She started with a smile on her lips. The voices crowded her ear as she listened to everyone trying to talk to her at once. The buzz on the other end brought out another smile on her face, she loved talking to them all, but sometimes it was harder because she was off on some mission or other. “Everything is fine.†She said when the voices rose trying to overlap the others, Nikkie couldn’t help but chuckle lightly. “Tell them all I said hi.†She said, her voice lower in hopes that the crowd at the other end of the line would hush. “I am about to go and wake her up and hand the com to Shadow.†but she didn’t get that far when the ship shuttered. The com-link shorted out and disconnected the phone call.

Nikkie would have heard a beep if Ellesa was to contact and speak to her, but any indication the leader tried wasn’t registering. The ship shuttered, throwing her hands out to catch herself before she smashed on the ground with a sharp thud. Nikkie was to wake up Shadow, while she went to sleep; it was soon to be her turn for the blessed sleep. She was even eager to sleep, leaving the criminal and her brother in peace and probably sort out the girls’ emotional confusion. She talked, but it is always to the point Nikkie wanted to smack her and ask for more sentences.

The grinding halt as the ship landed with a huge spine snapping jerk. She landed on the ground sprawled out, causing her breath to leave her lungs. Her eyes closed as she breathed softly, hearing the distant clatters around her as one something moved around. She couldn’t wake herself out of this revelry. Nikkie sighed after what she would assume to be days going by and not a few hours.

Shortly she sat up, her hand on her head and the other digging for the ear piece’s call button. “Ellesa.†She muttered in a guttural sound, unsure if Ellesa heard Nikkie the girl tried again. She gave up after the second try, her eyes closed as her hand lifted from her ear buds towards the top of her head. She starting there and checked herself over for any wounds. Finding nothing but bruises and small cuts, the second commander of Alpha Draconis started to brush herself off going on to check for anyone as well as getting Shadow out of the cryo-tube.

Putting a hand on the wall almost close to the roof, helping her to walk towards the cryostations. With effort the female made it there. She had to step over the scattered debris and mangled bodies. Some were more out of a horror movie and others were just plainly grotesque. She didn’t want to see the mouths gaping open, or half of their heads splattered on the ground. Shivering in the warm dragon scale armor, it was a new technology that Shadow was working on, she wanted the marines to have more of an advantage than their predecessors before this one.

Nikkie was ecstatic and her brother wanting to make one of his own, to see who was smarter. Shadow or himself. Looking in to the cryo-station, she saw them either broken or some of the walls collapsed upon the sleeping victims. “Well they slept through it, I hope they didn’t feel anything.†She said as the soft prayer ran through her mind.

Slowly moving through the crumbled and glass scattered ground, she walked over towards the hole looking out. Even though she was weaponless, she still stuck her head outside of the hole. Seeing a xenomorph take her best friend and roaring, she ducked back in turning around and running quickly.

“ANYONE?!†Nikkie yelled on the top of her lungs, frantically searching for any living signs of life.

“OVER HERE!†She heard the familiar voice of Ellesa call out to her, giving Nikkie an idea of where to go. “Shadow has been captured by….†Unable to finish the sentence as one thing happened in a most comical way. Nikkie didn’t see the bar that ran across, the hall that she ran down. Nikkie didn’t expect it to be there, it was against the wall last. She remembered but now, now it was inside of the wall across from where it should be, giving the illusion of a cross tape. She didn’t expect it to be there because the horror of her best friend being taken by not a regular xenomorph, but a ten foot tall one. He was huge and she feared it ever since Nikkie first saw it.

She hit the bar with enough force to turn over on it and it seemed the bar had the ability to slam her on the ground, leaving Nikkie groaning flat on her back and spread eagled.

Mark had picked up his rifle and heard the shooting going on, as well as the screams out in the corridors of facehuggers and everything, but soon enough Dunn was issuing orders and all, and things seemed to be cooling down all right. At least for now. He pressed the talk button, picking up his M10 Helmet from the cabinet and walking out, "Righto. I'll be getting supplies, back row."

He checked his pulse rifle to be sure that he had a mag in and sighed to himself shaking off the nerves and getting himself in the mindset of getting this job done so they could find a way off whatever the hell planet they were stuck on. That and to be sure the fucking Xenos weren't gonna go apeshit and try and get them, but hopefully they were in the right place for this.

He headed out into the Armory and nodded to Xavier, "Hey there. I'm gonna go-"

He heard a whump as Dunn fell over Xavier's rifle and he had to suppress a chu8ckle at the sight. He took a ciggy out of his pack and placed it inbetween his lips and lit it up. "I'm gonna go get those supplies. We should probably line this shit up along the corridor I'd think."

He slung his rifle over his shoulder and blew smoke out of the side of his mouth as he bent down to pick up several empty duffel bags that had been spread over the floor, and he tossed Xavier three. "Here you go mate." The word was rubbing off on him. A lot of Aussies had been on his home colony, and hearing it a lot again around these 'blokes' was enough for him to start using it.

Turning away, he slid his pulse rifle so the barrel was pointing at the floor and his hand rested above the grip. Scanning the broken halls through the dark and flashing lights of the ship, he turned on his shoulder light before turning into the supply room, the doors half opened. He had to sidestep in, but he was able to get in well and easy. He set the bags up in a row and unslung his rifle, looking around cautiously in case any of the bloody things were hiding in the supply room.

"Food... Water..." he said the last as he scanned through the room's contents and saw it hidden in the back in crates. "Beer."

A wide smile spread across his face. He began to put equal amounts of all three in each of the duffel bags in case they would get lost before zipping them up and carrying them all with one taught long arm down the corridors back to the previous hallway and lining them up against the wall.

The initial crash had sent everything into a state of pandemonium. There seemed to be a light haze of smoke, a fire somewhere on board might have caused it, or maybe an automatic extinguisher response. The kitchen looked a mess, the tables that had previously seemed rather well attached to the floor were buckled from the weight of a section of ventilation collapsing onto it. Food trays were scattered, wires hung down off the roof and drawers had been forced open in the impact.

In the center of the floor, hand under the table and half splayed across the floor on her stomach was Gene Wells. During the initial warning of imminent crash Gene had been cleaning up dishes left over from the 'awake' crew. The alarms had sounded and she had been washing up a kitchen knife and with the first shudder of the ship had jabbed it straight into her thumb. The water had filled with her red life sustaining fluid rather quickly.

Then as the shudders increased, and continued to rock the ship she had tried to get out of the kitchen to the medical bay only to be knocked off her feet by a violet toss of the ship. Only to collapse against the floor after knocking herself out on the corner of the metal table.

So she lay there unconscious and was tossed about and eventually rolled up uncomfortably on impact. Damaging one of the cupboard doors when flung into it.

To say the least she was lucky to wake only to have bled on the floor and received a blood oozing gash across her cheek. A headache was also a given considering the bruising she sustained.

Having rolled around to unwrap her limbs, and dragged herself up using the now broken table, Gene had taken only a few seconds to let the room stop spinning before slowly jogging/swaying her way towards the Armoury. When the scream spread out as if like nails down a chalk board, she had managed to regain enough balance to break into a sprint.

"Bloody hell am I glad to see you guys."

Gene's sigh of relief was audible even as she rounded the final corner and spotted Mark standing out the front of the Armoury. Heading inside she noted the gear and weaponry and followed in suit.

Getting her weaponry first, rather similar to that of the Outback squad she placed her two Python .357 Silhouette on top of her locker after loading each. Retrieving her Pulse Rifle she leaned it against another locker within reach.

Retrieving her survival pack and her combat medical kit she placed both on the ground so she wouldn't forget them. Methodically attaching her armour, webbing and helmet from within the locker. Kicking it shut she slipped her survival pack on her back, shouldered her medical kit -slung for a more secure placement- and went about balancing out her weaponry. Each pistol getting placed into the hip/thigh holsters, and the pulse rifle's belt helping to support it on her right shoulder. The barrel pointed to the ground after slipping a magazine into it, and checking it's round counter was full up.

The last things to collect were her flares and glow sticks, slipped into a pouch in the webbing. The grenades secured with black tape to avoid nasty accidents following, and then sliding her standard issue combat blade into her chest sheath. Moving out into the hallway she looked right and then left before turning to Mark. "Anyone injured I should see to at the moment?" she queried, shoving her titanium weave gloves into the helmet before hanging it off her thigh holster just balancing.

She knew how odd that must sound considering her thumb was torn open as she still left the wetness of blood oozing from her cheek. Ripping open the flap of her medical kit she took out some bandage padding, and some medical tape. Her thumb looked swollen so she tipped a little disinfectant powder into it to kill any bugs, and also to cover the scent of fresh blood. Wrapping it up she did the same to her cheek. Before slipping her gloves on and then putting her helmet on, shouldering her rifle rather officially.

God this gear weighs a ton... she groaned inwardly, scanning the hallway again.

"Malus, it's Gene...where do you want me? I arrived to the party late," she called through the comms, also to test if it was still up and running.

Lone Hunter breathed in slowly savouring the smell of the meditative essence he had brought with him to this god forsaken and yet oddly calming world, reflecting back on the events up until now…being assigned as a guard of to one of the mining outpost, the highest ranking member of his clan out of the small few that where sent as guards therefore making him in charge of the outpost he was assigned to and to top it all of Death Drop the Former elder of Hunter’s Moon was here as well from what he had heard…it was both laughable and despicable at the same time. The real reason obviously was that being relatively new and some what untrustworthy member of the clan this was just another test of his honour that so may still questioned…and he WOULD pass it!...he exhaled slowly thinking even further back on his life for a little while… he snapped back to the present due to fact that the memory brought only pain and hate, and he had no need for those emotions right now as they would only distract him.

Walking out of his room into his office Lone Hunter activated the yesterday’s daily report on his main console…an apparent meteor that landed in the desert ironically close to this station, “so that’s what that was†he mused thinking back to the noise and violent shaking that had woken him that day, and know that he had finished his meditation earlier than he had wanted to it was time for him to oversee this new day, with another exhausted sigh he gathered the few weapons he had brought with him, both mauls, his glaive, wrist blades, plasma caster and single shuriken along with his armour.
The young hunter watched from an observation tower as the miners gathered for their rall call and eventual daily labour, nothing of interest really, none of the former bad bloods amongst the miners were stupid enough to cause trouble and the unblooded youngsters were eager to prove themselves, so lone hunter focused on the cloud North-West of the outpost. Something about it gave him an ominous feeling he had never seen smoke last this long before after a meteor crash…Lone Hunter typed in a few commands on his wrist computer a sent them to the guards that were under his command, he wanted them on alert for anything, “I have a bad feeling about this†Lone hunter said to himself more so than to the older observant that had being assigned to him due to how young LH was “as do I young blood†he agreed “perhaps it is best if you contacted the elder’s that are in charge of the other mining facility’s?†lone hunter stared at cloud longer his feeling more threatened by it somehow… “I’ll discuss it with them during the afternoon meeting today…†he said an turned and left as the miners began to leave for the day’s labour, leaving the elder in charge of the facility as he oversaw today’s mining of the metal … “rather than look like an overeager, easily frightend fool†he whispered.

=A few hours later=

As the miners began the daily and back-breaking task he received a message from the elder which had reread for the second time after sending the report to the other guards that where here “scans have confirmed that the object that crash landed was in-fact an alien vessel, possibly human, discussion of this forbidden in front of or to miners their work must not be disrupted!â€Â, Lone Hunter clenched and unclenched his fist again, “the fools†he thought to himself…as always LH began to feel sorry for the humans, again his feelings for them conflicted with his code of honour and conduct and again he would resolve to kill those that would try to either harm him and his fellow yautja or steal their technology… for this world’s greatest secret must remain secret and whatever number of humans survived that crash would wish that they had not…

Tension was thick in the air amongst the three Elders of Balatu. Still stranded a considerable distance from main base, they knew it was their primary destination to reach if they were to properly assess the situation at hand. The small group of miners halted in their tracks ahead of them, turning to face their three guards who were hunched together, speaking secretively in their own private discussion. "Hey, pigs, why the hell have we stopped in the middle of the Godforsaken desert? I demand answers." one of the miners hollered. "Silence your tongue, you bottom-feeding scum. Or I shall have it ripped out!" Stalker bellowed at him in response. "All of you, band together, we need to reach the central facility as quickly as possible. Any of you who fall behind will be left behind, now MOVE!" The Doctor roared at the now increasingly frustrated group of workers.

One of them stepped forth. "We refuse to be your marching dogs any longer. The three of you so-called "honoured" warriors think you are above us. Many of us have committed crimes in the past, but that gives you no right to treat us like animals now. There are more of us than there are of you, this harsh cruelty will stop right now."

"Learn your place, and fall back in line with the others." PREDATOR growled in a stern & powerful voice. "We are here to keep you alive, don't force us to betray our word." Suddenly, one of the enraged workers rushed at PREDATOR. In an instant, he drew his wrist blades & pressed them against the rebel's throat. "I SAID, fall back in line." Within moments, the crowd erupted. Three large individuals stepped forward, all of them former bad bloods. They quickly drew make-shift weapons which they had concealed within their clothing. Crude knives fashioned from shards of rock & metal debris they had found scattered around. "You let it come to this, now we will end you." One of them bellowed as he lunged forth.

He barely made it three steps before Stalker raised his arm, clenching a weapon in his hand. The Elder's clawed finger wrapped around the trigger of his net-gun & without hesitation, he fired. The trap ensnared his opponent during mid-charge, throwing him off his feet & pinning him to the baking hot desert floor like a trapped rat. Stunned, he gazed up into the sky through the mesh of cutting fibers which began to slowly slice into his flesh. "P-Please...have mercy."

The Gods of Death showed mercy to no adversary, but these were just weak-minded individuals whose feeble psyche had shattered due to the harsh conditions of this Hellish planet. Stalker flicked a small lever on the side of his net-gun, releasing the miner from the intertwining coils of the deadly trap. "Now unless any more of you are feeling particularly brave, I suggest we push on." The Doctor ordered. After this demonstration of superiority, another mutiny from disgruntled workers seemed very unlikely.

As the miners began to trek back towards the main base, the Comm. unit on PREDATOR's wrist computer sparked to life. A muffled voice stammered on the other side of the transmission. "Human ship...crashed...we are all in danger. Damnation, they confiscated my supplies, get back here now." They all recognized that voice, it was Deathdrop. It sounded as though he was severely intoxicated & was mumbling many of his words, but the message was definitely clear. "We're on our way back. See you soon, old friend."

The group started the long trek back to the main facility to regroup and asses the threat that they were now facing. The Elder had been more than annoyed with the outbust that had occured by the workers but expected them to disobey, after all it was the reason many were there to begin with.

The group moved on forward towards the facility, the message from Deathdrop had been interesting to say the least and wondered what had caused his altered state. PREDATOR and Stalker kept the group moving. The hard glare of the sun beating them slowly into submission.

One of the workers started to slow down and stumble before finally crashing to the dead earth with a thud. Some of the group looked back while others kept marching on. The Doctor knew then that the ones that kept marching would make it back but those distracted and undetermined would not.

The elder also knew now why he found such comfort in this planet, why he felt such kinship with it.

The moved onwards and it took a fair while for the next worker to drop into death's cold grip. Stalker looked over at the doctor and gave a distinct grunt. the elder laughed to himself. he felt something that hadnt been stirred since they got to this rock.