Ties That Bind

FireHunter's cocoon shifted, with a squelching noise reminiscent of stepping in a pile of fresh cow crap. FireHunter broke free of his organic prison, and bellowed, for this was his favorite time, the time for war. He awoke all of his brothers and sisters who still stayed in their slumber, he wiped the hideous slime off of his carapace and shuddered in anticipation of the fighting, with limbs flying in all directions and blood fresh upon his claws, teeth, and body. Visions of past wars filled his mind, the glory of seeing his brothers and sisters ripping foes limb from limb, and replicating those feats albeit in a more brutal, animalistic manner. He flicked his tail and went to greet the queen, taking great strides down the hall.

As TDN stood on the barren and desolate lands that was once a beautiful planet, he could not believe his eyes. He had never been on Earth before, only heard stories from his parents when he was small. A life giving planet, now filled with nothing but death and destruction. "Hard to believe" he thought "that this was the place we all came from" as he surveyed the location. A voice broke him from the trance "Sir, dropships are inbound".

As he looked up, he could slowly see the Marine's dropships descending on the planet. As soon as it lands, the hatches were open and APCs and men come rushing out. "Looks like it's going to be another bloody war" he told himself.

"Well I'll be, lieutenant TDN back in service I see. Good to see you sir" a voice said. TDN turned around to see who it was, and standing there was Kidd, his former subordinate and ally. "Yeah I can't believe I'm back either" he said "but isn't it me who has to call you sir now?". "An old devil-dog like you need not call me that" Kidd replied "we're both veterans that had seen more battles than any man should". "You're right" TDN replied "back to buissiness, how's the operation going to be carried out?".

"We're splitting our men into 3 squads, you're taking charge of one and the other 2 will be by Nikkie, our new marine and me" Kidd said. TDN looked over as his squad was called over and formed a line in front of him. As they saluted each other, one of the marines said "The legendary man who founded Alpha Draconis, it's a honor sir". "Don't need to be like that" TDN said "I'm nothing more than an old soldier close to his retirement now".

As he motioned them to begin the move into the heart of the destruction, Kidd said to him "Oh by the way, you might want to know that your old friends the Weyland-Yutani Corp has send their men down too. And we'll be working with them". TDN scoffs. So his old enemies are here as well. "I'll try to play nice" he said. And with that, he starts moving to his squad, with the thought of trying to rescue as much survivors as possible.

He was woken by Firehunter, Gaunt woke from his slimy tomb,The slime covered his body but he shook it off easly, He hadn't been sleeping for long but he knew he had to do what every alien should do, He knew he should go and greet the queen and then meet with the others, He then saw Firehunter running off into the chambers, He scuttled down and started to follow him, Always ready, Ever vigilant, Ready for war.

The titanium ramp whirred opened and the harsh lighting flooded into the interior of 'The Waffle'.
The team of more than 12 Weyland Yutani:Military figures picked up their baggage and thundered down the ramp.
Glaring eyes looked them over, they all looked like super-soldiers even without their carapace type segmented armour on.
And had more experience to boot aswell than 3/4 of the USCMC personnal in the room.

Delta stepped off the ramp, and looked around.
Soldiers milling around,making final preparations for combat. His combat fatigues drapped him,the Urban Type MARPAT fitted well with the enviroment they where dropping in to.
He caught the look of Kidd and TDN,having served under Kidd for a while,he knew he was one 'hell of a Marine.But having only heard of his predessor; TDN he'd never actually saw him in combat.But it was his lucky day... So hes find out shortly.

Malus thundered down the ramp and Delta waited for further instructions.

kirby was woken by the scaems of other aliens in other rooms.kirby burst out of his coccon and looked around to see that bloo was still sleeping in his.instinctively knew that it was time to propagate the alien breed.kirby then let out a high-pitch scream

Waralien was sitting upon what remained of a military vehicel that transported troops across the valley the hive now contols.

As he was sitting there, the screams of his bretherin alerted him. The sounds of war were upon him. Good War thought, he hadn't eaten anything in a long while. War stretched himself out allowing his body to warm up after sitting there with nothing to do but patrol that one area. Once he stretched himself enough, War descended into the hive, making sure nothing saw him as he entered.

The second the hatch of the dropship, which he learned was apparently named 'The Waffle' opened up, Darman Carmine, once Atin Fordo, watched as Weyland-Yutani's military members thundered out of the ship. The second he was out, he took a long, deep breath. He had been born here on Earth... But yet he knew nothing about it. He'd only been stuck in one place for all his life, one desolate, remote, destroyed island. He remembered nothing about the normal life before it. So, he was as new to this as anybody else here.

He was already dressed up in his full fighting uniform, with the exception of the helmet, which he had tucked under his arm for now. He had on the basic uniform, along with the new addition to his wardrobe that he was given, his incredibly long coat that hung down to his ankles, which had the red details on it. Officially, he had been promoted to Command Squad as a bodyguard for the Commander. Unofficially, they had far too few troops out, so he'd still be fighting in the thick of it. He felt a little odd without his helmet on, though. He could almost pass for a civilian, if it weren't for his scarred face, jet-black armor, and heavy weaponry. His armor was different from the standard issue, and had yet to be dented due to him being a new recruit. But it had the same function and treatment. He himself had blonde hair, one left blue eye, and one right green eye. With one hell of a nasty scar running from the corner of his right eye, down to his left cheek. He was, however, incredibly short, standing at only five foot six. It was funny to some, because his look and attitude were given the same feeling: Animal. Small, yet ready to rip you apart if you looked at him the wrong way. He decided to shove the helmet down on top of his head. It, too, was painted black, and was a full helmet. He liked his helmet... He liked being anonymous. Because, officially, Atin Fordo was dead, and Darman Carmine didn't exist.

He was carrying around two incredibly heavy weapons, quite literally, a "walking tank." He carried around one M90 Rotary, and one M90 Grenade Launcher. And still carried around a pistol in the event of all else failing. Currently, he had the Grenade Launcher secured to his survival pack. It was easily accessible if he needed it. He assumed he would. He was carrying the Rotary around with him, though. He lifted the barrels to be vertically in front of him, and his the button on the back of it to spin the barrels briefly with a whirr of machinery. He considered it a test button, but it was actually used to warm up the gun. As long as it was able to fire and kill, he really didn't care what its function was.

He took a look around at all the faces in the area. He had no idea what time it was, but it didn't matter. He had a particularly odd way of not actually turning his head whenever he was looking around, instead using his peripheral vision to his advantage, and just moving his eyes to scan over the area. It was an old habit he developed to keep a full range of vision without alerting anyone. He could see them all just fine. And with his helmet on, it was impossible to know where he was looking. Marines were all over the place. It made him feel a bit weird, seeing other people. He took notice of Delta looking at two people specifically. He assumed those were the big-wigs of the Marines, by the judging of the stare and the look of the two. He knew nothing of anybody here, so this was bound to be fun.

He turned toward the dropship, waiting for his Commander to issue his orders.

The smell of fuel and sweat tickled the nostrils of the commander, telling him in thier odd way more than mere sight could. The petrol meant vehicle, and the sweat, the unfired gunsmoke and the oh-so-distant scent of war made the situation clear. They were making a combat drop. The sweat was from nervous soldiers hiding thier fear under bravado. Some of them had been in combat before. Some hadn't. Those who had knew the hell they were going into and couldn't help but wonder if this mission was to be thier last. Of them all, Delta looked the least worried. He'd already experienced death. Fear was always of the unknown, and he knew that death was but temporary.

The newer ones were a little more obvious about thier fear. Everyone in the dropship felt it, but the newer soldiers had less experience in hiding it. This batch, though, were holding up quite well. Gene was listening to music to distract her thoughts, a very effective method of thought displacement that meant she could clear her mind and avoid doubt. Carmine, on the other hand, was staring right at the wall, the smell on him was less fear and more excitement. A textbook sociopath. Like himself, but instead of restraining himself he let his hate give him strength. A rare grin appeared on his face. It was impossible to ever be ready for your first combat drop. But they were. As Vevlaa took them down he looked around, noting everything. They hadn't taken an APC this time. It had been destroyed earlier in the fight. W-Y had been there for weeks, had been instrumental in stopping the worst of the Xenomorph outbreak.

They were heading back from an assault on the Big Hive Over Yonder, as they'd called it. The APC had been demolished. The new guys hadnt seen any of the action, as thy'd guarded the dropship. The veterans had gone in. Malus. Fletcher. Delta. Vevlaa. Now they were ready for part two of this: Hold out for as long as they could and make the enemy pay for each Corporate lost with ten of thier own.

He'd finished his communication with the Dark Blood Organization and was now just waiting for them to land. The majority of the soldiers were in MARPAT gear with the standard M3 armour, except for the Command Squad (Minus Vevlaa) and Carmine. They were in black greatcoats with red trim, and it was clear from the slight rigidness of the coats that they either each used a regiment's ration of starch or were fitted on the inside with armour plating. He was wearing this, and an officer's cap as well. As he admired the uniforms, he thought about the mission. Earth. He'd been there twice so far. Once to enlist in the Colonial Marines. Once to resign from it. Once again, now, to help save the world alongside it.

As the bump told everyone that the dropship was down, as the ramp slid open and he shouted for everyone to get the fuck off of Vev's ship and to remember thier training, to complete the orders he had laid out before and crush the bastards who defiled the soil of Earth with thier every step, he was still pondering as to that. He and the marines had an odd relationship. As he stepped down the ramp, he didnt notice the sound of his boots hitting the ground, and he barely noticed the steps as his command unit followed him.

The Command Squad had been formed as a direct result of one of the GOLDEN RULES OF SURVIVING A WAR that he had invented: Never be alone. Since it seemed unfair that he didn't have to obey this while everyone else did, he made a command squad. During the past few days, he had come to value it. He was able to discuss things with the squad to make sure his ideas weren't useless, and it was always good to have someone covering your six. Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, he liked being part of a team instead of just it's leader.

He looked around, shaking his thoughts loose and concentrating on the situation at hand. They were at the north of the city, on the outskirts. There were still houses dotted around, but they were all one-story and relatively small, unlike the skyscrapers that you got in the city. It was also in much better condition. If there were survivors anywhere, He reckoned they'd be here. This was relatively open ground, with a forest a few kilometers to thier east and a city to thier south. There was a suburb on the horizon to the north. The open ground gave them an advantage. That was why he'd set up home here. It would take almost a houre for anyone in the city or the forest, or the suburbs for that matter, to get to them. And with the flat ground, they'd see them coming long before the enemy was close enough to engage. Hence why he'd given Xavier and Gene railguns. Gene was in the Command Squad, along with Vevlaa. That was why she was following him.

"Well, time to meet the in-laws." He said as his troopers rushed to achieve thier objectives. There was no grin on his face. He had no love for the Marines, and he knew they had no love for him. He thought they served a corrupt government. They thought he served a corrupt organization. He believed that both sides were right. But if you're corrupt no matter what you do, then you might as well benefit from it. And besides, he liked being in charge for a change.

There the marines were. Shit. They looked in even more shit than his soldiers were. There were a lot less of them, for one thing. Barely a single four-man squad. Of course, when he saw TDN, he stopped dead. He hadn't expected this. Kidd he could handle, he had fought with and against the current Marine Commander so long he knew him pretty well. TDN was another matter. Shit, he remembered when TDN had personally accepted his application into the Marines. His last act as Alpha Draconis Commander. He wondered if TDN would recognize him. He'd gone by another name then. Darkblade Bug, they'd called him.

He didn't salute, or expect to be saluted in turn. They were the same rank and this alliance wouldn't work if one claimed superiority over the other. He walked over to Kidd and TDN, and extended a gloved hand to shake. An informal greeting was probably best. "It's good to see you guys, we've gotta stand together or we're gunna die alone." He said, before looking south, towards the city. "Earth, eh? I always hoped the war would never reach the motherland." He added sadly, as soldiers rushed around and the dropship's whine ceased as it shut down. Then he turned to the his troops and noticed most of them were still unarmoured. "EVERYONE ARMOUR UP! THIS IS THE BIG ONE, SO YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE WITHOUT EXPRESS PERMISSION FROM MYSELF OR YOUR SQUAD LEADER!" He called out.

Malus Jay Darkblade looked at the ruined city and sighed. This was the city he'd first enlisted in. And where he'd handed in his resignation. Now it was gone. All gone.

As the Weyland-Yutani officer walked away, TDN could not help but think that there was something familiar about him. The officer had not identified himself. He had been gone for along time now, so he wasn't even sure that the officer had been one of them or not. When he had asked Kidd to confirm this, all Kidd said was "Used to be one of us". That was all he needed.

TDN stood and let out a silent laughter. "Our former boys joined up with the Company?" he asked himself. He felt as if he had led these former marines down the wrong path. He wondered how much did the Company paid them for them to abandon their own. He knew the Company was no good, as he had lost many of his allies because of the Company. He hated them as much as he hated the creatures who threatens mankind's very existence.

"Nothing to do about it I guess" he thought. He shook his head and turned back to the matter at hand. He had to rescue whoever was still alive in the heart of the burning city, in all that destruction. The hopes were slim, but they couldn't give up withut trying.

TDN looked at the group of battle-ready Marines. The two other squads have formed up with their respective commander. He motioned to his men "Squad 3, you're with me. Form up!". As they get into formation, he told them "Do not break the formation at any cost. This was designed to cover all sides and make sure we won't be ambushed. Any slight break could, no WILL result in your deaths". He looked at them once more "Everyone got that?". His men replied "Sir yes sir!". "Alright, check your equipments once more before we move out" he told them as he turned his attention to his new allies.

He looked over to the Weyland-Yutani soldiers. "Hey, Company Mercs" he yelled out. As they turned to his direction he said "As we are to work together, we are now allies. This means no petty quarrels or arguments. And although I can't make you, try helping our men in need as we'll try to do the same. Think about it this way, the less men either of us have, the less chance there is to survive. Helping us benefits you in the long run". He didn't know if he could trust these mercenaries, but he couldn't help it. They were now in this together.

As TDN began his movements with his squad into the city, he wondered what kindd of danger was he going to encounter. "Let's hope we find those survivors before those creatures get them" he thought.

**Note: The Weyland-Yutani officer here is you Sam-jack-dunn.

This was Gene's first combat mission, and she was nervous due to the fact that it was probably one of the hardest she could have imagined. Defend the people of Earth to stop its annihilation and overall destruction. All through the flight, and prior to landing Gene had been trying to clear her mind of all nerves or bad thoughts using a calming operatic music. It proved useful to her all throughout her life, even though her life was rather short, at only 21 years. The dark grey M3 standard issue armour that Gene wore was already in place and had been hours before. The ends of her dark reddish brown hair stuck out from under the helmet that was tightly secured in place, and her blue eyes took in the surrounding area as she followed Malus down the ramp and onto the dusty ground outside. Under her right arm she held the stock of her expensive WY-102 sniper rifle and with her left hand supported its barrel. Just minutes before landing Gene had checked that the ten round magazines she had in her combat webbing were loaded and that she had one magazine already in the rifle. The same applied for her sidearm, the M4A3 Tactical Pistol and all her other gear. The last thing she needed was to waste the ride down to Earth’s surface and then find out she wasn’t ready if something happened on landing.

“Sir, I’ll make sure to find you as soon as we get contact from the Dark Blood Organization,†Gene said as she passed Malus on the way down the ramp, her mission to meet up with 2nd Squad and aid them in watching 1st Squads back and the Waffle as 1st Squad set up the defensive perimeter. Gene watched the buzz of people around the landing site, Marines were a common sight but looked as though they needed a well deserved break. Scanning the area, Gene noticed that nearby the newly added member of Malus’ Command Team was standing still. She had only talked to him briefly before on the flight in. Moving up beside him, Gene stood for a moment and looked at what he might have been looking at. “Carmine right?†Gene asked, turning her head to look at him. “Malus told you to help with 2nd Squad as well right?†she added with a puzzled look, holding out her right hand whilst supporting her rifle. “Gene Wells, just call me Gene though…†she smiled.

Around them, 2nd Squad had begun moving out to set up the defensive perimeter around the waffle. And 1st Squad was beginning to bring out the beginning of a long list of supplies. “How about we get 2nd Squad moving, I’ll get them watching this side,†Gene indicated with a nod to the right side of the Waffle, and then nodded to the left side “and you can get them watching that side, if it’s good with you that is? That way we won’t get our asses handed to us by the Commander later.â€Â

Winter looked down at his hand, it didn’t look like his. The dropship, or “The Waffle,†was shaking as it carried the Weyland-Yutani members towards the drop zone. His suit of carapace armor was completely good to go with his ‘fight’ gloves, as he called them, covering his hands. His communications gear was on the bench next to him, along with his combat pack, pulse rifle, and additional webbing. His knife was held in his left hand, while his right absently rubbed across the side, well clear of the razor sharp edge.

“Earth…†he thought to himself, almost in shock. He had been born here, in the grand old New York City, hundreds of years of history. Now the entire planet was embroiled in an epic conflict. Fucking xenomorph bastards, killed his entire family and were now on Earth, doing god knows what. Winter knew he would save as many people as he could, no one deserved to die because of the brutal mindlessness of the Aliens and Preds who were now on our planet.

“Five minutes!†came the call through the dropship. The W-Y employees stood, strapping on their tools of war. Winter first draped his web gear over his armor, and then made sure everything was locked down nice and tight. His next job was to heft his survival pack onto his back, which contained all the essentials for maintaining a position for any extended period of time. Since 2nd squad was on perimeter duty, that seemed likely.

Finally, Winter connected the high-end communications gear, running a quick diagnostic before shifting the packs around until they felt comfortable on his back. He glanced around the dropship, making sure that the rest of the W-Y fighters were good to go. He flashed quick thumbs up, then made his way to the door, grabbing his pulse rifle on the way.

“30 seconds!†called the pilot, and Winter racked the bolt on his pulse rifle, because you never know what could be on the other side of the door. Technically they were landing in a ‘secure’ area, but Winter didn’t trust that very much. He had learned that lesson well in his years serving with the USCMC. The ramp dropped and everyone ambled out, while Winter moved to the side quickly. His pulse rifle was hanging by its sling, but his eyes were up and scanning instantly.

Winter knew that Malus and 2nd squad’s leader had a solid plan to follow, and he planned to kick some serious ass.

Winter looked down at his hand, it didn’t look like his. The dropship, or “The Waffle,†was shaking as it carried the Weyland-Yutani members towards the drop zone. His suit of carapace armor was completely good to go with his ‘fight’ gloves, as he called them, covering his hands. His communications gear was on the bench next to him, along with his combat pack, pulse rifle, and additional webbing. His knife was held in his left hand, while his right absently rubbed across the side, well clear of the razor sharp edge.

“Earth…†he thought to himself, almost in shock. He had been born here, in the grand old New York City, hundreds of years of history. Now the entire planet was embroiled in an epic conflict. Fucking xenomorph bastards, killed his entire family and were now on Earth, doing god knows what. Winter knew he would save as many people as he could, no one deserved to die because of the brutal mindlessness of the Aliens and Preds who were now on our planet.

“Five minutes!†came the call through the dropship. The W-Y employees stood, strapping on their tools of war. Winter first draped his web gear over his armor, and then made sure everything was locked down nice and tight. His next job was to heft his survival pack onto his back, which contained all the essentials for maintaining a position for any extended period of time. Since 2nd squad was on perimeter duty, that seemed likely.

Finally, Winter connected the high-end communications gear, running a quick diagnostic before shifting the packs around until they felt comfortable on his back. He glanced around the dropship, making sure that the rest of the W-Y fighters were good to go. He flashed quick thumbs up, then made his way to the door, grabbing his pulse rifle on the way.

“30 seconds!†called the pilot, and Winter racked the bolt on his pulse rifle, because you never know what could be on the other side of the door. Technically they were landing in a ‘secure’ area, but Winter didn’t trust that very much. He had learned that lesson well in his years serving with the USCMC. The ramp dropped and everyone ambled out, while Winter moved to the side quickly. His pulse rifle was hanging by its sling, but his eyes were up and scanning instantly.

Winter knew that Malus and 2nd squad’s leader had a solid plan to follow, and he planned to kick some serious ass.

Carmine turned to face Gene, but it was an odd turn. It was enough to tell he was looking at her, but yet it was obvious he was keeping all the Marines in his peripheral view. He looked her up and down for a moment, almost seeming as if he was trying to memorize her features. It wasn't that he was paranoid about them, or her for that matter. It was just that he had no idea who anybody here was, and wanted to memorize all the friendly faces.

He shifted the weight of the Rotary so that he was holding it in his left handle via the metal bar on it, similar to the way one would hold a chainsaw. It looked rather awkward, since he was short and skinny. He looked as if he ought to have fallen over when he did that, but he didn't. He returned the gesture by shaking her hand, nodding slightly. "Yeah, Darman Carmine," he said, his voice having an odd, almost child-like tone to it. It was obvious he wasn't used to talking to people using more than a few words. He still said it clearly enough, though. "Nice to meet you, Gene." It was obvious that he was taught to say that whenever somebody came near him, not knowing the entire meaning of the phrase.

He tilted his head slightly, in a slightly confused gesture. "First squad's moving this stuff. Second Squad's just on guard duty," he said, his voice hinting at a smile behind the helmet, because it was an easy job. Nobody in their right mind would attack yet. Keyword being yet. He didn't seem to mean that as a correction, rather than restating the objectives. "Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. We can set up on each side. Just got to watch for suspicious activity, that's all."

He started to walk toward his respective side, then tilted his head slightly again, stopping in his tracks. He could seal up the helmet to be sound-proofed if he wanted to, and just use the sound and radio systems, but he hadn't yet. Instead, he pulled the helmet off with his right hand, taking a good look at Gene. It probably seemed odd. Many humans did that as a way to show off their good looks. That wasn't the case for him.

"I figure you ought to know what I look like, if you don't already, since this thing covers my face and all. That way you don't think somebody stole my armor and is trying to impersonate me. That way you don't shoot me if I don't have my helmet on." It was hard to tell if that was a joke or not, but he had the faintest hint of a smile when he said it. He replaced the helmet, and moved toward his respective side.

Was he nervous? He didn't know how he couldn't be. Afraid wasn't a word he'd pick out to describe how he felt, actually. Fear was there. It was always there. But he'd lived his whole life being afraid, so he had gotten used to a more or less paranoid status, rather than downright scared shitless. He was really just excited, and, yes, nervous. But it wasn't that he had a fear of death, no. He didn't appreciate the idea, but he'd come to terms with the fact that, officially, he should have died so many years ago. Meaning whatever came now was just a finishing job.

But he had no intention of screwing up and causing him or any of his allies harm. No, what he was truly afraid of was fucking everything up and causing something bad to happen, whether to him or anybody else. He was not going to let that happen. Especially not after he'd been promoted to be part of the Command Squad, and there was no excuse for it. He had the equipment he needed. And he'd use it to rip apart any enemy he came near, even if it included using his bare hands.

Delta finished clipping his shin armour in place.
He stood up and caught the gaze of a nearby shattered mirror.
Standing at exactly 5'10,dark brown hair and blue eyes.
His armour,was jet black but with the words 'THE ARMOUR OF MY CONTEMPT'.
Printed on the breat plate.
No other insignia dotted his armour and aside from a few dents was blemish free.
Noticing Carmine clip his helmet into place he smiled.
Delta had always been an enthuastic about helmets... While some people loved cars,films,books,guns.
Delta loved his own personnal helmet.
From back when he younger, he was a motorbike 'Buff'.

His own personnal helmet,was jet black and a reflective ballistic visor and was fully sealed in when clamped in place.
Delta himself had also put in a few adjustments, one, a 15 minutes oxygen rebreather for zero-gee or underwater enviroments.
And had satillete imagery incorparated aswell.
Collecting his M41A2 Pulse Rifle from the 'Waffles' weapon lockers he pressed to find his squad humping supplies and defensive sentry guns to the established perimeter.
Shouldering his weapon, putting on safey gloves,he started to string razor wire around the edges of the 'base'.
Shoting to Carmine. "Cover me".

A huge ship... HUGE! Not at all clanship size, but much bigger than anything (else?) the Corporation ever managed to put together. The Melanie. Home to the Dark Blood Organization. Everything else was unknown, her current residents probably didn't know her history. At least he didn't...

Xeuss watched his small crater as the ship landed over a burning village outside the gates of one of the last human bastions on their own home-planet. He had dropped with one of those cool arrowhead thingies the predators use, always wanted to see how it feels. It wasn't as uncomfortable as it seemed, it felt just like jumping off something 2 meters high. And Xeuss had fallen from much bigger hights. His charcoal skin looked wierd in the afternoon sunlight, but then again, he hadn't seen sunlight in many years. Except for his white hair, purple lips and silver eyes, he was completely black. The xenomorph skin clothes more shiny that his own skin, but still black.

After his ship landed safely, he started running twards the city. One of the most important operatives of the DBO was supposed to be somewhere on the way...

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

Now it was getting dark outside, and Xeuss had strayed from his path to because he had noticed a man in an old Alpha Draconis armour walking twards a place where apparently the real marines were landing. It was Saysell, the man who gave the Organizarion all the information needed for successfully mugging the Weyland-Yutani.

"Hmmm... I guess i should have tried telling him we were coming too." Xeuss thought.

They had lost contact for quite some time and noone on the ship knew why, but with the humans losing the war, Xeuss had chosen to expect the worse. The DBO was not the place for making best friends, it was an accumulation of traitors, criminals and really butthurt people so no matter how much all of them together cared about Saysell's life, none of them cared enough to check on him after losing contact. They all expected either betrayal or death had taken him away. However he was still perfectly alive and this was good. Swiftly Xeuss moved right behind Saysell and tapped him on the shoulder saying "Hey...", then picked up his brand new radio and said:

"Melanie, this Xeuss, Saysell's standing right next to me!"
"That is good to hear, oh honourable cheirman!" the ship responded and Xeuss gave Saysell a big happy smile.

The Melanie had a synthetic's artificial intelligence, so even though she was a ship, she felt very much human and so was an impenetrable fortress, but could get moody at times... and she seemed to be in love with Saysell. Slightly.

alien-drone woke from his peaceful slumber to find most of his brothers had left to greet the queen, he quickly shaked himself out of his daze and ran down the long, dark passage to the center of the hive were hundreds of xenomorphs sat infront of a pregnant queen.

Hunter's Moon. That was synonymous with life in Slayer's eyes. For it was all he had ever known. Everything that had happened to him in the past four hundred years had revolved around those two simple words, and if you were involved with something for that long, it would be synonymous with life for you too.

Now, after so many centuries of servitude, Slayer held the rank of elder. It was an honor known by few, and coveted by many. It was a role that only the wisest, strongest yautja could ever step into, but Slayer felt he played it well. He had earned the right to be proud of himself at this point.

Slayer had personally designed the clanship that Hunter's Moon operated out of now. It was brand new, even though it had taken close to forty years to construct. The ship was over two miles long, and had enough firepower to demolish a city. There were hundreds of families of yautja living on board, and there was a select group of hunters that formed the HM combat squad.

He now stood in the bridge of the massive ship, staring down at the war ridden world below him. Hunter's Moon had been watching the events on the planet for close to six months now. The rogue predator clans that were wreaking havoc on the surface were not affiliated with them. They were savages, and they would need to be dealt with as well. The alien hives that had taken root on the desolate rock were just as repulsive.

HM had not interfered with the conflict up to this point, but that was soon to change. They had the upper hand and now one knew it. No one knew they were here, no one knew how strong they were, and no one knew that the petty sarcastic feuds between humans were meaningless in the grand scheme of what was about to unfold.

"Hear this!" Slayer's voice echoed through the spiderweb of corridors that was the clanship. "The human armies have arrived. As well as the vile badblood clan known as the Dark Blood Organization. No one is to leave the ship for the surface until I give you direct permission. Please be patient, we will all get the trophies we deserve before this has ended. For now I bid you get ready. This is going to be big."


Earth. It was synonymous with death in Slayer's eyes. For that was all he had ever known of it.

This once beautiful planet was now nothing more than a hive world, covered in barren wastes for miles in all direction, occasionally broken up by ruined cities and xenomorph hives. Saysell knew this region better than anyone, he knew that to the south was where the marines had landed on the north side of the one few remain human outposts. To the west were ruins as far as the eye could see; the Yatju would often come here to hunt the few small hives in the region as hardmeat trials. The east was the worst of all directions, it held the planets master hive, a behemoth as far as hives went. It stretched for hundreds of miles in all directions, underground tunnels that men would never come back from. Even Saysell feared the east. And to the south laid more ruins and Saysell's makeshift home.

Then he heard a sound he had longed for in what seemed like forever, the distinctive sound of the Melanie. His highly tuned xenomorph senses picked in up in a heartbeat. His heart raced at the thought of seeing his old "comrades".
"No!" he thought to himself, "They left you here, they left you to rot on this dam planet" He continued.
"If they are here and you aint going mad, then they wont be here for you, it’s been 5 years. They would of come sooner if it was for you" Finally finishing his internal argument Saysell continued onwards, to the marines.

After around 15 minutes of solid walking the light began to fade, the sun falling to just above the horizon. Then came a strange sensation, a presence he both respected and revelled in. Then it came the tap on the shoulder.
"Your getting sloppy, I could sense you before you where even within a hundred yards of me" Saysell smiled and turned to a face he hadn’t seen in a very long 5 years.

After Xeuss had finished informing DBO of Saysell's survival he was quickly grabbed and lifted in the ex-marines monstrous grip.
"God dam it I have missed that black face of yours!" Saysell shouted with a certain exuberance, but then he remembered when he had last seen Xeuss it was as he left Saysell behind.
"Why did you leave me? Do you know what it is like to be the only man left behind? You got everyman out except me, you left me here to rot!" Saysell's face quickly changing expression.
This was the best moment in Saysell's five year stretch on this rock, but he hid it very well.

"Aww you know what? Fuck it, I don’t care, I got over it within the first two years. But I do want to know what you are doing here again, 'cause I sure as hell know it aint to save my sorry existence..."

Carmine was spinning the Rotary's barrels again via the warm-up button. He liked the sound of all the gears moving. He'd already jammed an ammo belt into it, so it was fully loaded. He was keeping his finger off the trigger until he saw something bad. When Delta beckoned for the assist, though, he stopped hitting the button, nodded, and jogged over to his comrade.

He had the weapon lifted in a semi-aiming position. Ready to open fire, but not held in a threatening way. Delta appeared to be setting up barbed wire... He wondered where the choke point in the wire would be. He figured they had to leave part of it open so that people could move out through it, or fall back, for that matter. He was aiming to the South at the moment. If that was where the enemy was likely to hit from, then that was where he wanted to look.

It was a shame, really. He could see the city up ahead. It was close enough, but yet plenty far. He could see the ruined statue up ahead, "The Angel" as it was now to be called. That was, officially, where the city began. Urban warfare... How ironic. He'd spent his whole life in a ruined city up until three years ago. Now he was back to it, but he had weapons that were real.

He sealed his helmet completely. It was sound-proofed, if he wanted it to be. He could scream and roar all he wanted, and as long as the audio wasn't on, nobody would hear him. He had memorized what Delta's armor looked like now. He could see him in his peripherals, so he could memorize him. It was the helmet he'd identify him by, though. He was going to use one of those same types until he found the one he wore now.

So, Gene was going to be his Sentry partner. That was good by him. He didn't know anybody here that well, so he couldn't complain about not liking anybody. She seemed nice enough. So did Delta. Although he didn't know anybody well, it didn't stop him from getting information. Delta had been on other missions. He wasn't new to this. That was good. Experience outranked everything, in his book. Gene was green, though, just as he was. He didn't care, though. Things were now what they were. He would have been stuck alone on the shift otherwise.

That wouldn't have been thrilling.

Standing beside TDN before the soldier headed out to war, Kidd stood watching. Garbed in his usual M3 Personal body armor which is now battle scarred from all the action he's been through, the young man looked on at the horizon to see his homeworld being slowly eaten away by monsters.

Standing up to the height of six feet, two inches tall and gazing upon the world with dark brown eyes, which are encircled with black circles from the lack of sleep.
His M3 bodyarmor has been through hell and back with all the light scrapes and small dents here and there on his breastplace. Only one pauldron remained, the left shoulder armor, as the other was missing due to restricting the marine's movement of his right arm. The clamshell greaves he wear on his shins are still good, despite the numerous scrapes on it.
The marine uniform in which he wears underneath the armor was all but trash now. Dirt and grime covered the MARPAT camoflage pants and the polyester is starting to tear at his knees. The top that he wears is just in the same condition as his pants, dirty and the smell of sweat reeked from his uniform.
Able to get several hours of sleep and no bath for the past several days, Kidd was nothing more than a wreck.

Equipped with the usual amount of gear that he always carries, Kidd packs light as he prefer strategic planning over heavy firepower. Slung over his shoulder is the reliable M41A1 Pulse rifle and strapped around his right leg, a M4A3 .45 pistol is holstered. Strapped around his boot and greave of his right leg, a K-Bar is seen in its sheath. A true loyaltist to the Corps, Kidd would never trade in his old USCM gear for a newer model WY series "war-pack."

Turning and seeing that the marine's current position is being reinforced with troops and supplies, Kidd could not help but smirk as he sees the WY troops rush out from their dropships wearing their armor and holding their weapons. Stretching and slowly turning to look at these troops, Kidd stands proudly before them only to greet them with a warm, marine welcome,"Welcome to hell, you corporate sons-of-guns" Really wanting to say more, the marine decided against it as TDN spoke to them about fighting together for the sake of the human race.

As Malus walks up and TDN left with second squad, Kidd stood beside his old comrade only to share a few words with the WY officer,"Well Malus... Seems like extinction is upon us. I wish you luck, my friend, because the next time we meet, will be anywhere but heaven." Tired and knowing he must keep fighting, Kidd turns away from Malus and heads off to gather what several marines who are still able to fight for the "Human Cause."

Not having much luck in gathering a small squad together, Kidd runs across a familiar face during his search. Smiling as he looks down at the female marine, Kidd kicks Nikkie's boot only to ask one simple question,"Are you still able to fight soldier?"