Guilt can go through anyones or anthings mind...

Gaunt had a concience now, He was beging to think about what Avire7777 had said to him.
He also thought about how he couldn't just abandon everyone in his Hive, They were his brothers.

Gaunt had made up his mind now, He would join up with Firehunter,DS and Avire7777 and help build a Hive, After all he had already found three more drones to help out.

Gaunt could sense the others, They weren't far, He ran though the ship acompanyed by the drones he had found, Through vents and ripped metal, One of the drones found a live Human.

Gaunt thought about this for a moment if they were going to build a Hive they'd need hosts, He told the Drone to take the Human with him.

After finally getting out of the ship, He saw Avire7777 then DS then Firehunter, He joined up with Avire7777 and hissed 'So are we gonna build this Hive or what?'.

Sam Dunn looked despondently at the corpse of his old friend, shaking his head. "Dammit...He wanted to go down fighting, not like this. Not killed without even being able to fight back. It's just not right." He said quietly, more to himself than anyone, his lit cigar smouldering forgotten. He dropped his survival pack and let it hit the ground beside him with a dull 'whump', followed by a slight splash as it landed in a pool of blood and vomit. The smell didn't bother him, the only thought that ran through his mind was that he couldn't just leave Bazza here.

"This...this is Sam Dunn. Bazza's gone. We've lost a good bloke today. I'm...I'm going to put him in the freezer so that we can...so that we can come back for him. It looks like the handwork of a bug...so keep your eyes open. Don't go anywhere alone. Genesey, if you could head down towards the hangar so that Jene isn't alone there, I'd be grateful. See if we can get any of the vehicles working. Dunn...Dunn out." His voice, sad and empty, rang over the comm channel as he let his finger leave the earbud on his comm, and come to rest on the zipper of his survival pack.

In minutes, he'd gathered Bazza's remains, and placed them reverentially in his own sleeping bag. He wandered through the busted hallways, ignoring the terrible lighting and sparks, the sleeping bag slung over his shoulder, draped in an Australian flag, whispering the Australian national anthem to himself. It wasn't much of a funeral march, but it was the best he could do.

When he came across a hole in the hull of the ship, however, he stopped fast. The wind howled around him through the rent in the ship as he gazed out at kilometer after kilometer of red, empty desert wasteland. It looked so much like the Outback that the memory only added to the tears already running freely down his face. "Just so everyone knows, I just got a good look at the surface of this planet. It looks just like the Back'o'Burke back home." He said over the channel, staring out philosophically at the wasteland.

He stared for what must have been a minute, before he noticed a couple of black streaks, speeding away from the ship. He grabbed a pair of binoculars from his combat webbing and took a closer look. Three Xenomorphs racing from the ship, two of them with captives, one of them at least ten meters tall. "Three bugs sighted heading North-East, away from us. I think they're leaving the ship, but keep your eyes open just in case." He warned everyone, before turning his back on the scene and finishing his walk towards the cryobays.

There was blood everywhere. The bays had been the worst hit, and he was only able to find a single undamaged cryo tube. It was already occupied. The occupant wasn't going to need it anymore. He casually booted out the previous occupant and slid the sleeping bag into the tube, before closing it and draping the flag over the tube. He touched the brim of his hat with blood-covered fingers in a final salute, before turning and walking away, wiping the tears from his eyes and not looking back.

He'd taken care of Bazza. Now he had to bottle down the rage and sorrow in his heart and put on a brave face. He ignored the fear churning in his gut, he fought back the whispers in his ear. He forced his feelings deep inside the back of his brain, and soon the smile was back on his face, inhaling the cigar smoke and letting the nicotine invigorate him. He needed to be strong, because whilst he had finished looking after Bazza, he still had the rest of Outback Squad to care for.

This is the greatest thing about Gunnery Sergeant Sam Dunn. He is not invincible, he is not immune to fear, and he is most certinly not emotionally stable. It's not that he is a great shot, or a tactical genius. Hell, it isn't even his accent. No, the thing that sets Sam apart from the crowd is that in his mind, the men and women under his command always come first. So it was that he put his daily facade back on, and walked with a slight swagger back towards the armoury.

On his way back, he took out his binoculars and looked out the hole in the ship, scanning the area. The bugs were gone. "Stay away from the rest of my men, you bastards, and I'll leave you be." He whispered out into the sand and wind, a promise, threat and prayer all in one.

When he finally got back to the armoury, he noted the neat pile of duffel bags out in the hallway. "You little ripper! Nice neat line, looks like you packed well. When your papers get through, there's definently a place in Outback Squad for you." He said, clapping a hand on his fellow marine's armoured shoulder, no trace of his previous breakdown visible. Believe the lie, and it becomes true. He didn't mention that the spot Mark would be taking was the one vacated by Bazza.

"Now that you're done with that, mind helping Xavier out? Poor bloke seems a bit shaken." He added quietly, a knowing not directed at the other marine's general direction. He then looked around to see if any smartguns had made it through in one peice, and spotted three near the dead hugger. The first one was burned by acid - unuseable, but the other two were in working condition. He grabbed them and a pair of harnesses from the rack and tossed them onto one of the duffel bags, before turning and walking towards the door.

"You two look like you can hold your own here. I'll be in the hangar, checking to see how the sheilas are getting along." Sam said with a halfhearted wave as he walked out the door and promptly collapsed against the wall, a blinding pain in his head causing him to black out. A moment later, his vision was back and the pain gone. "I'm fine. Fine. Must've knocked me head a bit in the crash." He said over his shoulder to the two, and started to jog towards the hangar.

He caught up with Gene halfway and placed a hand on her armoured shoulder to get her to slow down a bit so he could catch his breath. "Glad to see you made it luv, I was worried we'd lost two good soldiers for a bit back ther-CRIKEY! Thats a beaut slice in yer thumb. Let me get that for ya." Sam had first enlisted as a Combat Medic, and always kept a medical kit on his person. He cleaned the wound as they walked, only tripping over debris once, and bandaged it as best as he could without limiting her ability to flex and move the thumb.

He was about to admonish her about looking after herself better - lest he confine her to sickbay - when a series of clicks came in over the comms, on ALL the channels. "Whoever the flamin' hell is doing that, stop spamming up the channel!" He growled over the radio...only to be responded moments later by a second, deeper series of clicks. "Huh. None of our boys would be that stupid." He said to himself. "Must be one of Cooper's mob." He added, shrugging off the thought as they came to the blocked-off enterance to the hangar.

"Gene, luv? Clear this shit with a grenade, will ya?" He asked sweetly, indicating the wreckage with a sweeping gesture of his hand. The only guns he had on him were his Pythons, he'd lost his Shotgun and hadn't bothered looking for it yet. He'd do that when he knew that Outback Squad was going to be okay. Maybe Xavier would find it for him anyway. Ya never knew.

There would be a delay between sending the signal and getting a response, so Deathdrop sat down and tried to collect himself.

A Youngblood entered the room and asked "Groundskeeper, are you-"

And Deathdrop tackled him before he could finish.

"BE QUIET! THEY'LL HEAR US!"

"Who...?"

He was confused. Deathdrop would have to explain the score to this poor idiot.

"The GODS! They've been trying to kill me ever since they trapped me in that womb. They're jealous of my good looks, you see. That's why they took my prick away, so there would be no compet-"

Much to the relief of the Youngblood, the communication device came alive with the voice of The elder known as Stalker.

"We're on our way back. See you soon, old friend."

It was good to hear Stalker's voice, even if it was distorted by static and echoing through his head in an terrible way. Still, it helped bring him back to reality.

It took Deathdrop a moment to realise that the youngblood had run from the room, which now appeared to be spinning.

He closed his eyes "It'll pass, it'll pass..."

When he opened his eyes, he saw a floating embryo appear for a split second.

"Fuck it."

The old Yautja slammed his head against the nearest wall hard enough to knock himself more or less into coherence.

"Now-I am ready for work."

Now all he needed were some weapons...

Gene had received Dunn's message with a slight pause in her step before leaving Xavier and Mark behind to go towards the cargo bay. It was basically an order, she hoped if Sam really wasn't able to deal with something that he would tell her, or one of the other guys at least. She had been quickly traveling through the corridors with rifle shouldered. Each vent she moved away from and trained her rifle one, each new corridor she checked before proceeding. She disliked how sneaky a xenomorph could be, and knew now that they had escaped for sure. Gene didn't like transporting them, that was a pretty obvious fact. She respected their survival instincts too much to see them as some experiment.

When Sam approached she heard him but only stopped when he patted her on the shoulder. "Sorry Boss."

She watched as he cleaned up the thumb which was bleeding through her makeshift bandaging and kept an eye off of his face. He was close to Bazza, they all were in some way. Bazza was a royal pain in the ass sometimes but indeed he was a decent bloke.

Gene put her glove on again, and had been finding it too restricting to wear earlier, an unfortunate circumstance. But now with more patient medical care the glove fit well enough to withstand. They continued down towards the cargo bay, checking corners, blind spots and vents to see if any had been disturbed. At one point, Gene crouched down, and examined xenomorph drool. And shivered in reflex. Just the image of one of those killers...

Because that is exactly what they were, born to kill and claim for their Queen.

...standing over you and drooling like there was no tomorrow, literally for you was creepy. It gave her the creeps.

Moving on, she got to the blockage and nodded when told to clear it. Moving back around the corner a good couple of meters she brought her combat knife and a grenade out from her webbing. Slicing through the black tape she pulled the pin.

"Fire in the hole Boss" she called out, before tossing the live grenade around into all the debree.

"Think Jean is on the other side of that, or further into the cargo bay?"

The grenade cooked off before exploding. The tremor sent through the walls of the ship making some of the already weaker support beams creek as if under sudden stress. And Gene grabbed Sam's bad arm to support herself in reflex, before noticing his reaction.

Good news, the path was clear enough to get through now.

The god of death was quickly greeted by his fellow clanmate Predator428 upon entrance to the main facility.

Predator428 was the newest edition to the honorable Balatu clan. He showed great potential, and is one of the few who actually was accepted into the clan...due to its very tight screening and high standards. Despite being the newcomer, Predator428 had proved himself, beyond expectation. His actions and skill alongside Black Warrior on the last hunt proved him to becoming a great warrior. Over time BW had become close friends with P428, and was now glad to have met him here rather than an facility full of inexperienced or suspicious miners. No one on this planet could be fully trusted, with the exception of the guards.

Not long after meeting, The foreman had come forth and told of how the object was apparently human in design. Black Warrior was totally clueless to the information, and that is when Predator428 filled him in.

"A large object had fallen from the sky, creating a massive plume of sand rising several feet into the sky. We didnt know what it is, but it is now reason to be on alert...for a human presence here could ruin our operations"

Black Warrior stood silent, amazed that he had missed such an apparently large event...and was able to see exactly how much of an event it was. When he looked out the northern view, he saw the sand and smoke rising in everlasting storms over the horizon.

Black Warrior was pondering over a plan and was heading for the communications room when Deathdrop came walking out. Black Warrior uttered a serious of clicks and growls in respect to the Elder. Even though Deathdrop was not a part of Balatu, Black Warrior had heard of his many accomplishments as leader of HM and as a lone hunter. In his eyes, Deathdrop had earned respect, atleast from him.
Deathdrop stopped upon his meeting with the duo, and told them of his message sent to the 3 Elders of Balatu. Predator428 nodded, and looked to Black Warrior.

"I suggest we await their arrive, and call a meeting, with all guards if possible. We need to fully understand the situation, and prepare if need arises."

Deathdrop acknowldeged the idea, and walked on, in search of any equipment he could find.

Meanwhile, the harsh sun beat down upon the terrain of the planet. The warm glow of sunlight on the liquified metals revealed molten lakes and canyons...It was indeed deadly, for many miners had misplaced balance and fallen in, their bodies being eaten away by the intense temperatures...and their smoldering bones settling to the bottom of the pools.

Machines constantly churned what was gathered into molds and equipment.

Perhaps it wouldnt be hard for Deathdrop to find weapons afterall...

Snake-eyes, as most call him but his name was long buried in the rubble of the old buildings. He didn’t care, he was called that because he is just as slick and just as twisted as a snake can get. He can strike and kill not in one hit, but slowly over time. As demented as he is, Eyes always had a weakness just like any strong man or women. Right? Not with this guy, this one he would harm the captor even if it was his own sister, just to make sure she don’t get harmed from who is holding her. Slice in an artery that would clog and heal without killing the person, just slowing them down. He did that once to Shadow, he didn’t like it but it was to protect her position if you will and him at the same time.

He felt the shutter and shake but he didn’t figure it was this bad and this is bad compared to what it should have been. It shouldn’t have crashed from space, besides he hated flying anyway a solid ground is all he needed. Just one mistake and everyone aboard could have died and no one could run to get help. Being knocked unconscious caused him to remember an old battle, a battle between him and his ‘brother’.

Back to the present; he was laying on the ground, a beam across his calves holding him on that cold hard floor. His black covered body from head to the toes; tested his body and he concluded that so far, the lungs didn’t seem to be broken which he was thankful for. Noting that; his vest held and would be relaying the information to Shadow, once he understood what was going on. The hands moved ever so slightly feeling his arms move, the tendons contracting and expanding feeling nothing still, no pain or anything.The arm shift to push himself up, to his knees. It was a noiseless grunt, as the man has no vocal cords in which to call for help. But the device that does help him speak was broken, good thing the radio wasn’t, so he hoped. The device was on his hip, digging in to his side, as Eyes shifted to sit up and push the bar off of him. He heard his sister and heard a thunk, rather loud in his opinion. Putting the hands just under the bar, Eyes slowly pulled his legs out a little at a time.

Once out, he made his way towards where the thunk was at and picking up things along the way, weapons scattered from the dying or dead men. Once in a while there would be a loud crack, as a bullet would kill them instantly so they didn’t feel the pain as they laid there suffering.

His head covered by what appears to be a helmet, a mask crossing over his face held slits as small as possible. Not wanting anyone to see his face, the clothing help hide the rest of his body so that no skin could be seen.

Soon after he'd lined the rows up,l Mark was surprised to see Gene show. She was looking... Well honestly she looked like shit. The warrior woman was cut this way and that and not looking all that hot. In some respects at least. He shook his head, his helmet shaking a bit as he did, the bloody thing was too big for him still. "Nah Gene, I'm alright here. Don't know about Xavier."

He heard Dunn make his call over the headset and he tightening his grip around the handle of his rifle, his finger tapping over the trigger guard gently. He fucking hated bugs, and he didn't like the fact they seemed to be running off on them either. Hopefully all of them were gone now though...

Turning back to check the bags again he looked over his shoulder as Dunn tapped him in approval. "Thanks Dunny." he said with a lopsided grin before nodding again. "I'll get right on that."

Taking the other duffel bags he went into the armoury again and began to shuffle around through the mess that the crash had made. He liked the thought of having lots of guns and explosives. This wasn't going to be a cakewalk, especially if the Bugs, or whatever the hell was out there decided to try and shoot them or eat them along the way.

He found the Pulse Rifles easily enough, and put two of them in each bag, laid up against the sides. He'd packed a lot of bags way back, and knew how to make things fit. Then, he began to line two of the bags with ammo magazines in long rows, before putting a smart gun on top of each of the stacks of ammo. Going to the final bag, he laid the two flamethrowers down in the base of it and lined some more ammo on top so they were all packed tight and neat.

Zipping the things up, he headed out of the armoury, whistling and puffing on his smoke as he went along his business. Just as he set the first bag down he heard Gene yell, "Fire in the hole!" and he knelt down and covered his head. The blast reverberated through the corridors and he muttered under his breath. "Crazy woman..." before heading back into the armory and bringing the other two duffel bags out in front of the supply row.

Taking a long drag on his ciggy, he blew the smoke out of his nose and walked up to where Gene was, pressing his stud on the earpiece. "Dunn, got the rows all set up nice and neat for ya. Over."

He walked up to Gene and said, "So what do you think we'll find out there?"

He didn't care to be honest. Just as long as it was killable, he'd kill it good too.

Avier had seen the change to the landscape and the small following had taken his lead. As it turned out the change had indicated a graveyard of sorts. The tall white spires slowed Avier and his companions to a cautious pace. He hadn’t seen anything that worried him yet but rushing into the unknown was never a good plan.

Their various shades of black contrasted sharply with their surroundings. Avier wondered what sort of cover the planet could provide other than their current surroundings. A tenuous screech from one of the drones behind him spun Avier around.

A tree shifted, which, in and of itself was of no concern to Avier, except there was no wind. Avier hissed a low warning to his comrades. Some seemed confused but when the large tree shifted once more they quickly caught on. As he focused on it, he could see a light pheromone radiating off of it.

Avier had never needed to take down a tree. He couldn’t comprehend how to bring it down. He saw no vital organs or any quick ways to bring it down. The tree seemed to be fifteen feet tall, and there seemed to be smaller parasitic organisms on it. Avier didn’t even know if he should consider the tree, or its inhabitants, a foe.

A small drone moved toward the tree. Gaunt followed at a much farther distance. As the drone came within a few feet of the tree Avier saw a long, thick branch strike the drone. He heard the crack and sizzle as the drone bled on the branch. The tree flailed and Gaunt leapt back in surprise.

The drone flew, the apparent strength of the creature was no to be underestimated. Their small party withdrew from the tree and Avier was surprised as the tree made no attempt to chase them. He wondered if it was even capable of movement. From their safe distance they saw the branch wilt and drop to the ground below. It seemed at least their blood was harmful to the creature.

Small hisses from the group told Avier others wanted to finish it off. He thought the best course of action was to leave it alone. For the time being the creature, and any more like it, would cover their retreat. If any of the humans followed they too would encounter it. At worst, they could come back and clear the beast later. Besides, now they knew what their enemy was, much easier to avoid, and eliminate, if they decided they needed to.

Cooper remained silent as Bazza’s screams filled the armory room. For a moment, she closed her eyes as she painfully listened to the man’s death followed by an angry roar. Something like this was bound to happen and she knew it the moment Mother warned her of the xenomorph escape. Thoughts, ideas and questions all ran through her mind as she continued to suit up and equip the rest of her gear. All the meanwhile acting like the man’s death hadn’t happened. After all, there was only one way to be sure. Her mind suddenly raced at the idea that the xenomophs had somehow gotten out and tampered with the security systems. Her slender brows knitted together at this thought. If that was the case, surely Bazza down there would have reported it much sooner. Or Mother even. Ellesa was ripped away from her thoughts as gun fire rattled through the armory. “What in the name of Jesus?!†she barked as she looked over at Xavier then down at the facehugger he had shouted about. Its acidic blood poured onto the metallic floor and easily ate away at the surface. “How the fuck did this thing get in here?†she grumbled. It then occurred to her that it had probably moved here after the crash. “Sunovabitch.†She cursed under her breath.

With stern, watchful green eyes, Cooper looked up and stared at each individual face in the room. Ellesa seriously doubted that the facehugger would have anything to do with the synthetic, Jean. So, it was either Sam or Xavier. It was hard to be for sure until last possible moment, when it was too late. And unless some of the equipment in the med bay survived, which she highly doubted, the men would have to go on clueless. Now she couldn’t help but wonder if this situation bothered either of them. However, their first priority was to find out how the ship was downed and where the hell they were. Though, this facehugger problem would not be so easily forgotten. With a grimace, the Marine returned her attention from the dead creature back to Sam. She watched and listened as he barked orders to his squad. The corners of her lips turned up into a slight smirk. They were in good hands. Now if only she could make sure her team was alright. Ellesa turned from the group and placed a single finger to the earbud and spoke, “Murray! Murray do you copy?†but again, nothing but static. The woman frowned then thudded her palm against her ear in a feeble attempt to get the com device to work. It suddenly popped and the static ceased.

A satisfied smile wiped across her face, “Murray, Snake, Jack! Can any of you read me?†she asked over her team’s channel. Nothing. Perhaps their com systems weren’t in the best of shapes either, or they couldn’t respond. Ellesa tried not to think about the worst case scenario and hoped for the best. “Fuck…I’ll have to go looking for them myself.†She muttered. It was then she heard Sam call her by her first name. The woman quirked a quizzical brow in his direction as the Gunnery Sergeant failed to address her properly. But in all reality, now was not the time to worry about such things. She turned back towards the man and listened as he asked her to follow him. Ellesa canted her head to the side as continued to give him a skeptical look. “This better be good, Sam.†She muttered as she followed him. Though she had to give him credit, he had been in these situations more times then he could probably count. Cooper would be wise to listen to his advice. And so she walked with him down the mangled corridors of her once great ship and listened to his opinion on the matter. She nodded in response to this, “No, I highly doubt those bugs had anything to do with it. Weyland Yutani swears their security system was fool-proof. Somebody tampered with it. Let’s just hope they died in the crash.†Her voice was low as if irritated, though not directed at Sam of course, but at how foolish they all had been. This should have been foreseen. Naturally the woman moved the rifle from her back and into their hands as they neared the containment lab. Cooper listened closely as if waiting for a screech or hiss of a xeno.

But there was nothing. She crept along the wall slowly until she saw her Gunnery Sergeant hit the floor with his knees. Quickly she shuffled over to the scene, her emerald hues widened at the mess before them. She glanced away, a bit disturbed to see such a good soldier in such a terrible condition. No man should have ever gone through what poor Bazza had experienced. Her eyes softened as she looked down at the practically weeping man at her feet. Poor kid. She muttered to herself. Ellesa hesitated for a moment until she finally laid a comforting hand upon the man’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Sam. He was a good man, he’ll be remembered for it.†And that was all she had to say. Cooper was, in fact, rather speechless. How to comfort a man when he’s witnessed a death of a good friend. “We’ve got to move on.†Ellesa glanced around the room whilst she allowed Sam to gather Bazza’s remains. There was nothing left here. A few corpses here and there, but whoever had killed Bazza sure wasn’t here anymore. She exhaled heavily then moved out of the room just in time to hear Nikkie shouting down the hall. “Murray?!†at least she was alive. Quickly Ellesa turned towards Sam. “We’ll talk later. I’ll meet up with you and your team once I’ve gathered what’s left of mine.†The woman then sprinted down the hallway and kneeled beside the young woman who had apparently not noticed the bar sticking out of the wall. “Murray! You’re alright. Thank god.†She then frowned as she remembered what the girl had been saying before she landed herself right on the ground.

“Shadow? Where is she?! Where’s your brother?†it was almost as if the man came when his name was called. Cooper looked over her shoulder to see Murray’s brother walking towards them. The Marine stood and nodded, “Good to have you here, Snake.†She quickly turned her attention back towards Nikkie and offered a hand to help her up. “Now what’s this about Shadow, where is she?†However, Ellesa’s attention was then brought to the small explosion that caused the ship to shutter. Dust and small scraps of metal fell from over head, the woman growled angrily as she covered her head. “What in god’s name are you doing, Sam?!†she barked over the com. “This ship has had her share of explosions already! Save the grenades for when we might really need them.†Ellesa, obviously, was in a rather bad mood. One of her squad members had been kidnapped, her ship wrecked and now they had to figure out where they hell they ended up.

There was a rumble and a deep thud of a grenade explosion. Debris rolled into the dropship bay from down the corridor. Jean was caught on the twelve foot tall vertical stabilizer attempting to see if she could fix the hull of one of the dropships when the explosion came. Jean couldn’t hold on and she fell to the deck head first. Her shoulderblade hit the corner of someone’s off-road truck, cracking part of the windshield and causing her to change the direction of her fall.

She hit the bay with a slap that echoed after the blast was done. White hydraulic fluid began soak her blue flightsuit and trickle down her back underneath the fabric. There was no physical pain. She checked her arm and stretched her neck to make sure she had full movement and then got to her feet. She treated the incident as if nothing had happened even though it would have killed a human being.

While the hydraulic fluid dripped onto the floor from the laceration in her back that cut clear up to the back of her neck, she walked across the bay and picked up a manifest sheet that located where equipment and first aid was in the room. She looked over the list and collected supplies.

Once done, she tapped her earpiece.

“Dunn, I have managed to locate four med kits, some kind of old truck, some portable welders, and a box of sidearms. Everything else is fairly trashed, sir. What was that explosion? Is everyone alright?â€Â

FireHunter stopped and turned as he heard the screeches of the other aliens behind him. He growled and started moving towards the noises when a noise came from his captive, the radio was obviously making some sort of crackle. Voices of other humans came from it, FireHunter lifted Shadowatching up to eye level and discarded her. He would find her later, FireHunter bolted towards the noises, hitting the tree the other wanted to kill so much, the tree cracked on impact and swung at FireHunter.
FireHunter was flipped over and he growled in shock, nothing had ever done that to him before, he grabbed onto a branch and snapped it off. Dark green blood sprayed out and the tree growled in displeasure, FireHunter hit it repeatedly until it keeled over, dead or unconscious, he wasn't sure, but FireHunter flicked his head towards the way they came.
He could sense the queen in one of the humans.
He could also sense Gaunt's earlier plan of rebellion, which he had now abandoned, FireHunter approached Gaunt and growled angrily, questioning that plan of rebellion.

“That’s the third oneâ€Â-

PREDATOR thought to himself; the weaker mine workers were expected to fall, he’d bet more than this would be lost by this time in the day. The group of miners and their elder guards were making decent time for moving on foot. Suddenly a worker not too far off in front of PREDATOR stumbled and fell to the ground in a heap a few of his comrades looked back in concern, PREDATOR without thinking mercilessly kicked the fallen worker out of his path.

Their small out break some time ago still left him in a very agitated state. Death Drop had made contact with the three elders not long ago, from what PREDATOR could tell the main facility had received some shrapnel damage from the downed human ship. That left him wondering if any of the small transport vessels were left intact. Sadly the “powers that be†felt it was unnecessary to equip this mining operation with any vessels capable of aerial combat, it did not matter the battle should always be fought and won in hand to hand combat.

PREDATOR looked over his shoulder checking on the doctor who decided he would pick up the rear of the group, he shot the doctor a hidden glare from behind his mask, instinctively the doctor cocked his head to the side, raising and gesturing his hand to form an insult. Smirking behind his mask PREDATOR caught the attention of Stalker who had been intent on staring off at the horizon, PREDATOR repeated the gesture towards Stalker who began to chuckle quietly.

As much as PREDATOR enjoyed battle, it was always comforting to be able to joke with one’s fellow brothers.

Firehunter was in the mood for questioning now, It seemed that Gaunt would have to explain himself unless he wanted to get his arm ripped off.

As Firehunter growled at him Gaunt hissed back his reply 'I never planned to rebel against the Hive, I planed to build a Hive for our clan(the Hive), I'm with you guys now,I've always been with the Hive, Anyway some good came out of this we now have two extra drones and one human for a host'.

He paused for a moment then hissed once again at Firehunter 'So are we gonna build this Hive or what?'.

Gaunt stood there, Him and all the other drones looking at Firehunter, Waiting for his response.

Predator428 was glad that the intrusion of the marines was a fact already known by his Elders. With Deathdrop's message spread to every guard posted at the outposts, there would be time to plan and coordinate a massive strike against the humans. Predator428 began to contemplate his own attack against the humans, seeing the wonderful sprays of gore from throats and chests as his blades sunk deep into their pitiful flesh. It would be no trouble at all to wipe out any survivors of their downed ship. Hell, he could accomplish this mission all by himself, he thought.

No. Predator428 let his senses over power his blood lust, allowing him to spot a true disadvantage that the predator held against the humans. He had no ranged weapons, all of them left behind in his quarters aboard the Balatu clanship. While Predator428 knew that his own armor and personal endurance would assist him greatly as he closed the distance to a target, combined gunfire would swiftly bring him down long before he got there. Predator428 needed to find new weapons, and he had an idea of where to get them.

"It will take sometime for our Elder's to get back from their shifts with the miners." he said to Black Warrior. "Until then, I must prepare myself for the coming battle. I will rejoin with you after I find my appropriate armaments. Good luck, brother."

And with that, Predator428 turned back towards the facility, on his way towards the refinery's maintenance workshop. The hunter made his way down the labyrinth of dull rock corridors, their structures reinforced with yautja metals. He made his way past the many miners going about their business, shoving any that happened to brush against him.

His short walk ended as he reached the machine shop, its insides filled with the sparks and hisses of mechanics at work. Predator428 reached a table of tools began to make his selections, running his clawed hand over the many items as he chose.

A set of four mining charges, each with their own remote detonator, were placed in the pouches around his belt. An older model plasma caster currently being used as a form of mining laser, its design much more archaic and bulky then more modern yautja designs, was hooked up to the rigging on the predator's back.

As Predator428 searched for a final tool, one in particular caught his eye. A medium sized cylinder, just big enough to require the use of two hands, sat at the end of the table. A metal framework formed its stock, with a small boxed attached to the bottom along with a trigger to operate. Predator428 hoisted up the rivet gun, wondering what its bolts would do to humans.

~~BEFORE THE CRASH~~

Yue Hatsuno, Weyland Yutani's Colonial Admistration CEO, scowled from where she sat on the bridge. The trip across space was going along smoothly, too smoothly in fact. Blue eyes scanned the bridge at the few people who were not in cryo-sleep before turning back to her laptop, her fingers dancing over the keys. This whole trip was creeping her out. If she had not been needed across the galaxy and this had not been the only ship headed in that direction she would not have boarded. But, she had been needed, and quickly, so she had come aboard against her better judgment.

Her fingers halted as thoughts of what she would do once she had gotten off this stinking ship. Something here made her nervous and she did not know why. Of course she knew about what the ship carried and the precautions taken, but this was not the reason for her unease. Angrily Yue hit the enter key and Delta's W-Y recruit information appeared on the screen.

Another tap- Edward Fletcher.

Scowling again Yue stood up. She was oddly restless with an odd sense of foreboding settling in her chest.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Yue was startled out of her increasingly morbid thoughts and premonitions by her PDA. The girl pulled her PDA out and saw that she was listed as one of the next people listed to be put into cryo-sleep.

"Guess it is my turn to sleep." She said softly to herself. "With the thoughts I have been having lately a little bit of rest would probably be a good thing. A little rest and these crazy thoughts of a looming disaster will be gone. Im just over worked, stressed and in need of a vacation. Thats it.. a vacation. When I get back I am going on a nice trip somewhere warm." Laughing to herself Yue got up and snapped her laptop closed. It would shut down by itself, and when opened back up, would need her pass code to be accessed.

Yue got up and strode over to the bridge doors and swiped her badge quickly and passed through. She turned out into the hall way and walked down the corridors talking with one recruit or another or stopping even just to say hey. Finally, Yue swiped her badge once more and found herself in the cryo chamber.

She stood there in the entrance to the cryo room and a shiver ran down her spine. She couldnt tell where the thoughts kept coming from, but it almost screamed "crypt". She shook her head to clear the thoughts that were echoing in her mind. She smiled as a marine came up to her smiling. "Ma'am" he said "Your cryo tube is right this way." He led the way to an open tube and helped the W-Y CEO in. Slowly Yue settled in and took her laptop in there with her. She always kept it close due to sensitive information and the hard drive she had installed on it. The hard drive was the highest capacity W-Y could make. "Al comfy Ma'am?" The marine asked. Yue nodded nervously as the lid descended. She looked at the recruit and wondered against her will "Will I see him again alive? Or will it be in a body bag?" Yue yawned as her eyes got heavier and heavier until the unthinking blackness claimed her.


~~AFTER THE CRASH~~


Yue slept in the cryo tube dressed in her normal blue skirt suit that was the same shade as her eyes. In the back of the skirt was a small six inch slit that ran down the skirt. The slit had a small pleating inside adding a little feminine ruffle to the skirt, which was as close to being form fitting as one could tastefully carry off without being called slutty. A short tailored jacket, or a bolero jacket encased the girl's torso stopping at the top of the ribcage showing off a feminine vest of the same blue as the skirt and the little jacket she wore. Under the vest was a soft silk white blouse whose collar came up over the collar of the bolero and lay back down giving the right white accent color around the girl's neck. Right at the small of the neck lay a gold plated insignia of Weyland-Yutani. Small simple blue 2 inch heels covered Yue's feet while her long black hair was braided and wrapped into a circle at the base of her neck and pinned there resting under a soft blue kidd cap with the Weyland-Yutani insignia there too.

Yue's face flinched lightly in her sleep as the ship rocked violently disturbing her sleep. It wasnt until the cryotube opened a few inches, that Yue awoke and the horror of her situation was made known to her. Lying across her cryotube was a small beam, one that she was not sure she could move. Yue swallowed nervously as she tried to look around. Sighing Yue saw only one option open to her. There above her, was a hole in the glass of her cryo-tube. It was about tone foot wide, and her only shot at getting out. Growling, Yue pushed her laptop through the hole and carefully started to work on enlarging the hole. This was easier said than done as the glass was thick. After what seemed like an eternity, which was probably more like 30 minutes, Yue had the hole large enough to crawl out of. Yue carefully shrugged out of her bolero jacket trying not to cut herself on the glass that had fallen into her tube. Once she had her jacket off,Yue put it around one side of the jagged edges of the broken glass above her and heaved herself out. Yue cried out in pain as the glass on the other side bit into the flesh of her left arm staining the material there a crimson.

Once out, Yue looked around and tried not to puke. People lay in cryotubes in various stages of decapitation, disembowelment or impalement. Yue lost her fight as she turned and heaved her guts out next to the beam that had imprisoned her in her cryo-tube. Once her bowels were empty, Yue tore her sleeve off her left arm and used the fabric as bandages. As she tied them off tight, she looked around for something to defend herself with, after all, if she were out of the cryo-tube would it not mean that the cargo was loose too?

Swallowing nervously, Yue bent down and scooped up a VP-70 pistol and several clips from a dead soldier. "This wont cut it for long" she thought miserably. "I need to get to the armory. If anyone survived, that is where they will go." W-Y's Colonial Administration CEO carefully stepped over bodies and into growing pools of blood staining her blue high heels the same crimson as on her ruined blouse. Picking up a bag, Yue looked into it, relieved to find that it held an emergency medical kit. Seeing it made her wish that her twin Seira Vasquez were with her. Yue shoved her laptop into the bag and exited the room.

She walked down the halls carefully with her back to the side of the ruined walls and her VP-70 loaded and in a ready position. She was damned if she was going to be attacked from behind. Yue's heart pounded in fear as she got closer and closer to the armory. "What if no one else survived?" was the question that kept resounding in her head. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she barely had time to register a movement before something leaped towards her from the shadows above her. It seemed like time slowed as a large face hugger flew through the air towards Yue's face. Yue screamed without thinking and fired a whole clip into the monster's reproductive area knocking it back from her as the momentum of the bullets carried it away from her. Yue quickly released the spent clip and inserted a new one looking around for any more threats as she approached the hugger. She aimed the pistol carefully before shooting off every one of it's legs and it's tail. "Fuck" she said as she leaned heavily against the dented wall behind her. She stood there for a few minutes before continuing on towards the armory. Just 20 feet more and she would be there. Yue sighed in relief and hope. Maybe things would be okay.

Waving a gloved and bloodied hand to get rid of the stink of burnt metal and plastic, Gunnery Sergeant Sam Jack Dunn from Outback Squad let out a low whistle as he surveyed the deadly spectacle that Gene had created for him, his cigar held lightly between the index and middle finger of his left hand in order to make whistling possible. His standard-issue grin was plastered on his face as he nudged at a piece of what had once been door with his combat boot.
“Whoo, now that is one way to unjam a door.†He said, obviously impressed as his cigar was returned to it's natural habitat in Sam's mouth. He looked over to his right to see Gene leaning on his arm, unbalanced by the explosion she'd made. If anything, his grin widened.

“Nice work Gene, now let's see what wonderful delights the hangar bay has to offer.†He said, allowing her to continue leaning against him for a moment before gently steadying her with his right hand, and stepping through the newly-reopened threshold and into the hangar. If the armoury had looked bad, then the hangar looked like it had been through a shitstorm, which in fact it had. The APC was badly banged up, its wheels missing in action, its gun turrets twisted and askew and complete with a gaping hole in the left side, right next to where the ammo stores inside it were kept. It must have hit something sharp enough to strike sparks in the ammo box and send the whole thing sky-high.

From a cursory glance, he could see that the passenger compartment was shot, and the C&C console was not even worth considering repairing. The APC's green paintwork was all but gone, scorched black by its own ammunition. He suspected that the engine might be salvagable, but his skills lay mostly with ship and android repair, not motor vehicles. The dropship was not even worth looking at, the wings on one side totally gone, and a gaping hole in the ceiling of the hangar told him that something had caused the missiles loaded inside it to go up like a trapdoor spider in the wet. The hole let the harsh sunlight in, and Sam took a few moments to bask in the warmth as he surveyed the rest of the hangar with an experienced eye.

The exosuit was stuffed, half of it had been blocking the door, and the other half was embedded into the belly of the dropship.
“Crikey...this place must've gotten the worst of it.†He whispered to himself as he saw Jean walk up towards him with a lot of hydraulic fluid leaking behind her, the tail leading back to the least damaged vehicle in the hangar: The Feral. Owned jointly by Xavier and Sam, it was mostly used to cruise around from trouble spot to trouble spot when they were on leave. It was their pride and joy, and was kept in perfect condition, strapped down and locked away in a storage crate, which was permanently welded to the hangar floor, it was little wonder that it was in such good nick.

It looked like it had been knocked out of the crate by the final impact and sent barrelling into the opposite wall of the hangar. An old vehicle that lacked the crumple safety features of more modern civilian vehicles, it had fared better than most. The front end, however, was in a world of shit. The engine, radiator and front axle were flattened out of recognition, and he suspected that the expensive roo bar had taken its last impact in defence of the Aussie icon. He walked towards Jean, nodding as she mentioned the recovered medpacks and the Ute.
“Looks like the Feral hit you pretty bad, Jean. You'd better get that looked at or you'll start malfunctioning. Take a seat on those ammo crates and I'll be with you in a moment to get you fixed up. Good job, by the way.â€Â

Not too many people cared very much about synthetics, or bothered with the time it took to be polite or give thanks, but Sam's life had been saved by a synthetic once. He knew too well that they had personalities and lives of their own. As far as he was concerned, they had a soul. So he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as he walked past, as well as a nod of thanks, before continuing on towards the Feral.
“Xavier's going to kill me.†Sam said softly, getting a good look at the damage that the Ute had suffered. Hundreds of thousands of dollars spend restoring it – all wasted. Still, it was the only vehicle he had a hope in hell of getting working, and he suspected that if this place was anywhere near as big as the Back'o'burke, they'd need a vehicle to make any kind of distance. The bugs were around, so he wasn't planning on staying in this wreck of a ship any longer than he had to.

“Ripper, Gene...do you two think you could canibilize parts from the Rhino and the Dropship and get this old thing in some semblance of working order?†He asked his two fellow squad-mates, looking over his shoulder to see the two standing in the hangar enterance. From their grins, he felt quietly confident that they were at least more than willing to take on the challenge. He'd love to help, but he felt that he owed it to Jean to get her damage looked at, and hopefully repaired. He then reached out with a gloved hand and tapped the earbud on his comm system. He supposed that it was proper to report a discovery like this to his superiors. The 's' word left a sour taste in his mouth as he imagined the green-as-a-treefrog 2lt Nikkie and the slightly-browner-but-still-too-damn-green Cooper. Well, at least Cooper was trying to hold things together, he had to give her credit for that.

“Cooper, this is Dunny here. Looks like we might be able to fix up the Feral. If there are bugs around here, we might want to vacate this location as soon as possible. Could you get your squad to move the packs that are outside the armoury door to the hangar so we can load them on? There should be enough supplies, weapons and ammo for everyone. Xavier, help 'em out will ya? Anyway, we'd better be off like a lizard drinking if we want to keep ahead of the bugs, so a nice, prompt reply would be beautiful. Oh, and that explosion was just us opening a stubborn door. Dunny out.†Well, he'd filled her in on the situation, he had no worries now. So long as she was able to get her squad and that gear into the hangar, they were laughin. He wasn't sure they could manage that, and he was even less sure that Xavier was in any condition to keep them in line. He'd looked damn pale when he'd woken up. Sam resolved to check on him after he got Jean fixed up.

Letting the comm channel go dead for a few seconds, he heard another series of clicks over the comm, followed by a low growl. It sounded a little like a Predator, but it was too high and the tone was a bit off, like someone was trying to and couldn't pull it off right.
“And would the bloody Drongo who thinks it's funny to make Pred noises over the comm kindly shut their bleedin cakeholes? Now isn't the time for pranks. If thats you, Snake, I'll have your balls footy practice, Alpha Squad or not. Dunn out.†He growled, obviously less than impressed. Sure, Outback liked their fun, but there was a fine line between a bit of fun and pure idiocy. He'd made sure that his men knew that line, and they were all within earshot (except Xavier, and it was far too high-pitched to be his snoring) anyway. He turned and walked over to Jean, muttering as he did.


“Right, let's get a look at this wound.†He said, his growl already replaced with a friendly tone that told everyone with earshot that it was alright, he was in control and he had their best interests at heart. He sat on the crate so that he was behind her, and lifted up the back of her shirt to reveal a large pane of glass stuck into her back. The smell was terrible.
“Crikey! And I thought I was having a rough day. Don't worry luv, I'll get this fixed up. Sure as Xavier hates officers.†He said, before grabbing a clamp from his personal toolkit, and clamping them down hard on the glass. He wasn't stupid enough to try and rip it out with his bare hands. Once it was secured, he slowly and carefully lifted the sharp glass from Jean's back, and got spurt of hydraulic fluid in the face for his trouble. He fell straight back off the crate, cursing as the glass landed in an unused corner of the hangar and shatterd.

“Bloody oath! This is not my bleedin lucky day.†He cursed to himself as he wiped his eyes clean, before grabbing some dust goggles from his pocket and sliding them over his red eyes to keep them from getting any more damn fluid in them. If the eyes were organic, it'd probably burn like all buggery, but they were as synthetic as Jean was, so he wasn't rolling on the floor screaming. He got back up onto the crate and took a look. The hydraulics controlling her ability to twist her spine and bend over were damaged, but the rest was mostly cosmetic. He identified the lacerations in the piping an the severed wiring, and after grabbing some electrical tape, some wiring and some synth-flesh from the medical kits she had uncovered, he was ready to go. First, he taped up the holes in the tubing so that no more hydraulic fluid would leak, then when he was sure the integrity was fixed, he injected a liter of the stuff to replace that which she'd lost. Then, he identified the damaged wiring to her spine movement motors and quickly replaced the damaged wires. Then it was a matter of cleaning up any leftover fluid, re-soldering the wires into place, and applying a patch of synthetic flesh over the gash to hide it. The synth-flesh was paler than her own complexion, and it would take a few hours to meld more fully with her system. Typically used on burns victims, it was damn handy stuff.

Of course, he couldn't help but admire the smooth, soft skin or the sheer efficiency of her internal components. If she'd been a human, he mused, she'd probably have had suitors in the corps crawling over each other to get to her. Shame she was a synthetic. He lowered the shirt back over the repaired damage and nodded to himself in acknowledgement of a job well done, before packing up his tool box and wiping the rest of the fluid from his face and gloves. He looked down as he got up off the crate, and realized his pants were now practically painted white from the stuff. It looked...embarrassing.
“Whoops, some minor spillage there. Nothing to worry about, though. Okay, all done. How does bending and twisting around feel?†He asked, keeping the dust goggles over his eyes. If they were going out into the desert, he had a feeling he'd need them.

“If you lot manage to go and ding yourself any further, or something interesting happens, call me on the comm. I'm going to check on Xavier.†He called out to the squad members in the hangar, before turning on his heel and walking back the way he'd come, his desert-camouflage uniform now sporting a fair bit more white than had been intended by the designers. And some red, too. He whistled and smoked his cigar nochalantly as he strolled through the crashed ship, bearing all the confidence of a bloke strolling down to the end of the driveway to check his mail. He whistled an old, old army tune that his father had taught him and grinned.

Now things were getting somewhere. They'd be out of here before the day was up, at the very latest. Crikey, it was hot. He was sweating, and that was something that he rarely did, used to New Adelaide as he was. He had to say that this place topped NA on the heat scale, though the wind did help a little to soothe his skin. Thankfully, the wide-brimmed Akubra hat kept the worst of the sun from reaching him in the few areas where the ceiling was gone, revealing a bright red sun. He swapped out his dust goggles for his favourite aviator sunglasses halfway, and by the time he reached the door to the armoury Alpha Squad had apparently failed entirely to vacate the packed gear from. The major clue to this was the fact that they were still stacked in neat rows right where Mark had left them. Great.

He stepped through the armoury door and waited for a second whilst his mechanical eyes adjusted to the lower light level. “Xavier? You okay mate?†He asked as he entered the armoury, looking around to see where his oldest surviving friend was. Upsettingly, he didn't find the man until he tripped over his prone form. He hit the ground with an 'Oof!', but managed to catch the fall with his hands to stop himself from crushing Xavier under his armour. He gingerly got back up to his feet before his brain caught up with him, reminding him that lying on the armoury floor was not a good thing. He cursed to himself as he rolled Xavier over onto his back and checked for a pulse. His pulse and breathing were both steady, he must have merely passed out. Maybe having a stack of Pulse Rifles fall on your head could be more painful than he'd thought. He removed Xavier's akubra hat and checked his head, and yes, there was a hell of a lump near the top, with a neat little cut in the middle. Nothing in the cut, just a cut. He immediately suspected a concussion or heatstroke, since the armoury was now for some reason the warmest place in the ship.

“This is Dunny. Xavier's out cold. He's breathing steady, but I'm going to move him to the hangar so I can keep an eye on him. Be advised, Outback Squad has a man out of action, we're down to 80% Operational strength. Jean, if you could prepare a stretcher or something for Xavier in the hangar, I would be very grateful. Oh yes, and Ellesa, get your lot to get that bloody equipment in the hangar before I have to pull people off medical and repair duty. Dunn out.†He reported over the comm, before lifting Xavier up and over his shoulders in a classic 'fireman's carry' and picking up the man's hat with his free hand. In full armour, the bloke was -heavy- but carrying the man who'd saved his sorry arse on Acid Reign wasn't a real drama for Sam Dunn. Not tripping over anything was. He had felt a bit woozy and unco on-and-off since the crash. He'd get Gene or Jean to check on his own medical condition once he was sure Xavier was being well taken care of. Not before. He walked down the corridor and stepped over the scattered debris from the explosion before returning to the Hangar.

“Status report!†He barked out, with Xavier slung over his shoulders, an akubra hat in one hand and his half-burned cigar in the other.

WHile Predator428 departed from the communications hallway, Black Warrior took a left into the guards quarters.

There was a heavily reinforced door to the quarters. This door was very heavy, and much better than the ones used to seal the miners quarters. Guards were very obviously held in a higher luxury...much to the disappointment of the lesser miners.
the God of Death lifted his reptilian arm towards the sidepanel, his thumb and index fingers touching a glossy bluelit panel. A white laser ran across the pads of Black Warrior's fingers, largely contrasting the blackened nails on the other side.
Recognizing the print, the panel emitted a high beep and the reinforced door slid open.

Inside the quarters was a large living area, each with a offbranch of many corridors. At the end of each corridor was a guards name, and their respective clan, or their preferred title beneath.
Black Warrior turned to his left, and entered the second hallway from the edge. A light sprang to life, and electricity raced down the hallway to meet the door before the hunter. A retinal scan opened the door to Black Warrior's room.

A small room to the right of the entrance revealed a rack, for the guard's equipment. Black Warrior's hulking form cast a menacing shadow over the floor. The metal of his armored boots clinked along the hard tiles. The god of death pondered over his gear, wondering what he should do.

"Fuck it, if we have a threat, it needs to be eliminated. No Mercy."

This thought echoed through the halls of his mind. Memories replaying themselves, past hunts and injuries fading...but not forgotten...leaving impressions and scars among the battle hardened body of Bw. Black Warrior gained the title of God of Death in his long service to his clan... he would live up to it. Even if this planet was a hellhole, any opposition would be crushed...the might of the yautja would not be underestimated.

Black Warrior's hands ran along his weapons. A large black smartdisk was taken, his fingers sliding easily into the grips, blades extending and retracting. The smartdisk now lay on the hunters thigh. Bw plucked a large metal brace from its position on its rack. He slipped this over his right arm, and flexing, a large blade tore forth, white light casting off of its metallic shine. An armblade, was one of Black Warriors prized weapons...he had only taken it on one hunt so far, but it cut efficiently and cleanly. It severed limbs with the greatest of ease, and the carnage it displayed was satisfying to the blood hungry mind of the hunter.

Finally, the final weapon...this was Black Warriors most prized possession. He had this one specifically and above all acidproofed along with his armblade. High on the rack, Above Black Warrior's own head, sat the Naginata. It was made of a golden metal, and was claimed as the strongest metal known to yautja's. It was decorated and engraved, many designs and runes were set into it, including the Balatu name. The 12" long/8"wide blades sitting at opposing ends on the pole were blackened...and were shaped as anchors. Both blades were sharpened to achieve the finest cut, and to inflict the slimmest but deadliest injuries, but the hooks would catch and their serrated edges would tear deep gashes.
Taking this weapon from its rack, Black Warrior placed it in its holster on his back. A satisfied grunt escaped the throat of the warrior...this weapon would indeed be the undoing of many lives...both in the near and far future.

He was prepared now, aware... and was anxious to see the crimson blood warmly soak into the soil...but he would have to wait for the elders before any action could be taken.
Afterall, preparation was simply preparation...

“Whoops, some minor spillage there. Nothing to worry about, though. Okay, all done. How does bending and twisting around feel?†He asked, keeping the dust goggles over his eyes. If they were going out into the desert, he had a feeling he'd need them.

Jean rolled her head back and adjusted her arms. She turned around and looked at Dunn. Her lips curved up slightly and her dark eyes locked onto his goggles. That curve of the lips soon revealed teeth as she saw that he looked like someone that had cereal thrown in his face from the white hydraulic fluid.

"Thank you," she whispered.

“If you lot manage to go and ding yourself any further, or something interesting happens, call me on the comm. I'm going to check on Xavier.â€Â

Jean nodded and touched his hand, "I'll try and meet up with you under different circumstances maybe?" She attempted to joke in a tone where no one else could hear. She zipped her flight suit the rest of the way up and smiled a little more. "... keep yourself out of damage also, Human."

With a wink, she left him to do what he needed to do.

Deathdrop entered his "room" (a collection of weapons and drugs next to the furnace, really) and slumped against the wall, where he had cut a square hole with a mining laser about a year ago. Sliding his claws into the cracks, he pulled the metal square out from the rest of the wall and reached in.

Deathdrop being around weapons made everyone nervous, so he had to hide them. They'd have taken his hand-held plasma caster if he didn't sleep with his finger on the trigger.

He reached in and removed what he needed.

There were 2 old plasma casters. They were older models, without the sleek look and telescoping sights of the newer ones, but they were built to last.

There were bits of armor he hadn't worn in years; shoulder and leg armor, along with a basic gauntlet. When he'd run out of drugs a few weeks back, he had to find a way to occupy himself until the next supply shipment came.

Using spare scrap, he'd cruedly repaired some older, damaged bits of it, and even made replacements for those parts that were beyonf repair. He was suprised to find most of it fit. He wrapped chains around what few vital areas his armor didn't cover, and attatched both plasma casters to his shoulders.

He'd also found a knife, which he placed in his leg armor.

Only one more thing now, and he almost dreaded seeing it again. He'd have left it if not for the pity he detected in the voices and eyes of every other Yautja he interacted with. The medication normally kept him from caring, but this was as sober as he had been in months, and he decided he was tired of it.

His hands disappeared into the darkness for a moment, and emerged with his mask. Though scared by bullets and acid, it still resembled the mythological demon he'd shaped it to mimic all those centuries ago.

He placed it on his face, unsheathed his wristblades, and aimed his right plasma caster. It sparked for a moment, and fell off.

"Are you FUCKING kidding me?!"

FireHunter nodded an affirmative and started walking back towards the ship, he hissed at the drone foolish enough to try and overtake him. The drone hissed in alarm as FireHunter's bloodstained arm swung down and narrowly missed the drone's head.
It moved back in line, whimpering like a hurt dog, FireHunter growled in a slight temper and they headed off towards the ship.
FireHunter broke into a run, leaving the others in his dust, he reached the ship in less that half an hour because of the fairly short distance and his unobstructed run.
He climbed onto the ship again and jumped through the hole in the roof.
Unaware of the dropship directly below it.
He fell through the roof of the dropship and hit the floor, he heard the metal creak and groan as it deformed from the sudden impact. He found himself in a small crater in the metal floor, he growled in irritation and lay there.