kirby finally woke back up after the nade had hit nearly hit him.the first thing he felt was pain
he soon found out that he was baddly cut up from shrapnal and he was also missing a few toes.regaining his bearings he took note that the queen was dead.. this filled him with rage.he quickly tryed to locate War who was as he say still fighting the rines.he got up and whent to help his fellow aliens.

Whistling and firing in Kirbys general direction to issue a challenge. The 3 Buckshot shells flung over the Xenos head and hit the ceiling. Delta reloaded and waited for Kirbys decision. It turned. Delta immedately shouldered his Pulse Rifle and targeted the Xenos right leg, 20 10MM Holo Rounds hit its lower leg. The Holo Rounds flattened and expanded in its target for maximum damage. Kirby collapsed and Delta sent a M10 grenade in its general direction. BAM! The explosion shook the interior of the Hive and threw Kirby to one end of the room. Delta reloaded and followed. But being careful no to step on the creatures acid from its mutilated leg.

the acid blood was pulseing out of the wound on his leg.kirby ducked around the corner bullets wizzing by.
kirby also saw how careful the corp was being
as the corp turned the corner only to be greeted by a facefull of acid spit.if it haddn't been for the helmets visor it would have blinded him.the rine quickly took his helmet off.but in this short period of time kirby had impaled his leg with tail and riped though his leg and yanked upwards knocking him off his feet.his wepon landed within arms distance away.

Waralien waited. He was looking for an opening in Carmine's defence. If War burst out in front of him, that give Carmine a chance to open hell upon War. If he waited any longer, Carmine would just drop grenades into the water.

Before for war knew it, Carmine set his gun down and began shuffeling for something in his webbing. He produced two oval-shaped objects in his good hand. He pulled the pin using his teeth and dropped both.

War reacted quickly and swam as far from the grenades. When he was a good distance away, he began melting the wall of the sewer line.

Both grenades detonaded and the shockwave surged through the water.

Carmine pick up his gun and was walking away when the flooring gave way and War sprang forth from the ground. In the process, Waralien slapped the lancer from Carmine's hand and pounced on him, sending him into the waters. Within the water, War punched a hole into Carmine's leg and swam away from him. War picked himself out of the water and waited for Carmine to resurface.

With that leg wound, Carmine would have difficulty trying to get out. War took a step away from the edge and was disorented. The shockwave from the grenades struck him harder than he thought.

Carmine was so glad he'd worn a full-faced helmet. He'd definitely need a lot of medical treatment after this fight, though. The alien punched a hole through his right leg, the leg that he'd already had wounded earlier, and he grunted in pain loudly. And now he found himself under the sewer water... He had the sealed suit, thank god, but he also had holes punched through him. Antibiotics would definitely be needed...

Hell, he'd need more than that.

He managed to resurface with the help of a nearby ladder, which sewers always seemed to have mounted on their sides, now having no idea where the launcher went. He wiped the various substances off his visor, and quickly saw War, who was stunned from the grenades he'd dropped. He pulled two grenades from his combat webbing-- A flashbang and a frag-- and hurled the flashbang at the Xeno.

The flashbang stunned it for an essential second longer, and he then pulled the pin on the frag, released the lever, and hurled it at the ugly fucker. The flashbang hadn't worked as well as he thought, because it made an attempt at getting away, only to be hurled through the air as the grenade exploded and sent shrapnel through its body. He felt a few bits ping off his pauldron-like shoulder plates, but he didn't waste a second in hurling yet another flashbang.

He ripped the flamethrower off his back again, chasing after the Xeno as it hit the ground and tried to get back up. "Eat shit and die!" he shouted at it. He pulled the trigger again, the flames igniting again as a huge stream was let loose at the Xenomorph, setting it on fire instantly. He was a lot closer than he needed to be, but that also made the heat more intense. This thing'd have to put the flames out again, or continue burning to the point of death. It didn't have any other choice.

Kirbys tail impaled his lower leg, the beast ripped it out for another swing but Delta ducked and weaved.
Instanly, he dropped a Thermite phosphorous grenade at Kirbys angular feet. The beast warbled in suprise and Delta sprinted into a role. Scooping up his pulse rifle and firing two more Buckshot rounds at the beast tearing off its right leg completely. Delta ducked for cover and the grenade went off. Unlike the normal M10 grenades or the RG34's Delta carried. The Thermite was a phosphorous grenade. Which meant it delievered a Napalm blast instead of explosive or shrapnel burst. And with Xenos fear of fire and danger to him, would reduce Kirby to a charcoal grill. He leg stung but the shin armour had taken most of the damage.
Delta rose from cover and waited for the rising smoke to settle.

as delta come closer and closer to the smokeing area of fire kirby's flameing tail came whipping out of the smoke and wraped its self around the crops neck chokeing and burning him the corp was starting to bring around his gun when useing his good leg had jumped onto him and ripped the cursed thing from his grip and threw it away kirby then started clawing deltas body.

Delta was now being choked by the aggresive Runner, Kirby. Its long serpent claws trying to mangle him, but his armour was holding up. The Xeno probably wasnt experienced, as Delta simply in a fluid motion un-holstered his Desert Eagle from his waist and put 3 rounds through its tail at its hind point.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The large caliber pistol quite distinctive with its echo'e and boomy sounds dispatched the tail from Kirby. Also since Kirby was using its good leg for scratching Delta and the tail feebly trying to choke him through his visored helmet. The tail was only holding Kirby up, so he was now free to wreak havoc. Head-butting the Xeno through his visored head, its grip feel back and Delta used to time to counter roll his opponent. It slipped away and fell sickly on its mutilated right leg. A snap followed. The hollowing Xeno lay on the stick resin floor, one leg gone and the other... And Mangled. And its on the floor beside sickly acidic blood leaking out onto a nearby drain.
Delta retrieved his fallen Pulse Rifle and moved in again, but this time for the kill.

kirby knew quickly that he was now in alot more troble then before.kirby took a quick body check.tail gone left leg gone right leg not responding .back with serve burns and shrapnal.head burned.kirby then looked up to see the corp grabing his gun the just walking twords him.the corp reached kirby and with a grunt kicked him.but kirby grabed he foot and used the momentum like a jump landing on deltas back grabing on digging in deltas only only reation was what the... kirby the proceded start biteing the exposed neck.....

Delta saw the last ditch attempt coming, sliding his Ka-Bar combat knife out from his waist he slid it through Kirbys long elongated head, it screeched and dropped. Frozen in place as the long knife destroyed its brains. His knife melted with the acid. He let it fall, blood everywhere soaking up the concrete and creating new holes in the already destroyed floor. It squirmed and twitched. Delta handleded his Desert Eagle pistol, and with the boot of his foot held down the side of Kirbys head to the ground, as he didnt want a face-full of acid. He slowly put the pistol to the Runners head and fired. It deflated and died its body broken and head destroyed. He holstered his pistol once again and fond the edge of its angular tail. He picked up a long slender sharp piece as a trophy. "Hmmm, this will be my new knife". Delta said. "Thanks". He put in, in a sarcastic voice smiling. He gathered his gear and followed Malus to the Queens chambers.
Although stopping to put pressure on his wounded leg.

(Good fight Kirby)

(I will ingnor this post, if you havent read the rules or don't rememeber its six posts for a kill, the sixth being the killing post. We both are at 4 or so and normally most lower ranking members can't kill higher ranking members. Or so it goes. Just be sure to delete the eariler post.)

Waralien had few options, he could take the flames for a few more moments and take out his attacker, but risk the in-human flames to consume him, or he could dive yet again into the waters and start this all over again.

He made his move. Waralien dived into the water, extinguising the flames. Carmine held his flame ready, he wasn't going to be taken by surprise again.

War watched for a while. He was studying the marine's movements. There was a slight flaw in his tracking pattern. Just large enough for War to exploit in his current condision.


War lepted from the waters, as he pounced he sprayed acid upon the marine. Just as War predicted, Carmine sheilded himself with his gun. The acid broke through the protective casing that held the napalm. The gun burst into flames with Carmine caught in the thick of it all.

Carmine then dove into the waters.

War sat back from the dangerous liquid that ignited everything it touched. He was curious about the liquid. The waters nearby began to stir. War had a plan.

Carmine emerged from the waters, quickly scanning the area around him. He couldn't see his attacker anymore. The burns that engulfed him had burned deep through the armor he wore. He couldn't do much.

He heard some slithering from nearby. He couldn't tell where. He looked up. War's new found presence came right out of a tale told by war veterans. War clung to the ceiling on his three limbs. The stub of his tail was ignited with an unholy flame.
His teeth oozed with acidic blood, and his body was worn and torn from many battles.

War then jumped upon Carmine, and plunged his tail into the marine's already weakened armor. His insides were burning with the unending flames of the napalm. War forced on by spilling his blood from his mouth on Carmine's face. The helmet gave way to his actual face.

It turned out... Napalm hurt. Carmine hadn't expected the flamethrower to explode when hit by acid, but then again, he hadn't gone through basic training... He only knew how to shoot and reload, really. Of course, that's what you got for playing with fire; You got burned extremely badly.

He had known that the Xenomorphs could cling to walls and ceilings, but... Well, he just hadn't thought to look there. So when the damn thing came down on him, he was... Slightly less than surprised. But the pain that came afterwards... THAT was the surprising part.

He ripped off his helmet instantly, revealing that he was grinning from ear to ear, regardless of the pain. He extended the dagger in his right knuckle plate, and drove it straight into the remaining arm of the Xenomorph... And twisted hard, severing all the blood vessels and nerves in the arm, making it worthless weight. He then took a good swing at the Xeno, with his helmet in hand, knocking it away from him.

He removed his pistol from its holster, and he began to unload into the briefly stunned Xeno... Ripping a few new holes through its chest. It was then that he spotted exactly what he needed across the room... He really needed it right about now. His grenade launcher.

He fired his grappling hook at the Xenomorph with a brief chuckle, watching the cord wrap itself around the thing's neck. He used his good arm to get a good hold on the cord, and then hit the reel-in button... Pulling the Xenomorph directly at him. He didn't waste a second, instead sidestepping the air-bound Xeno and unhooking his grappling hook... Sending the thing right into the wall.

"Who knew Xenos could fly?" he said with a chuckle, running over toward his grenade launcher. He kicked it up into his arms with his good foot, and took aim at where the Xeno had been, firing another grenade there... Which would then rain shrapnel directly into its face, and hard. The second grenade wouldn't be so lucky, because the damn thing had revealed its position.

The second grenade ripped through its one remaining leg, dropping it to the floor instantly. Down, but not out, as one might say. But Xenos made a nasty habit of not going down until you removed their head, or all their other limbs. He let out a loud, bloody cough, the blood splattering across the walls a bit. This time, though, he was fairly certain there was a lot more blood. "You aren't dead, n' neither am I! Let's change that, goddammit!"

Both legs gone....
Chest heavily damaged....
One arm out....
Tail end gone....
Second mouth destroyed....

War's odds never looked any better. He had to give the marine some credit, he was the first to cripple War one piece at a time.

War looked at Carmine, with him staring back at him. War knew it was either himself or Carmine. War began storing all the acid shot he could. In his current condition, even if he could kill Carmine, he was in no shape to go anywhere. So War did the next best thing. He shot his acid shot. Normally it would fire out in spurts or a stream but this was a spray. It would cover everything in site. Including Carmine.

The spray fired out at him but it wasn't enough pressure. It hit his legs, the grenade launcher, and the flooring around him leading to the sewers.

The acid landed on the grenade launcher's ammo. It caused the rounds to expload one after another. The shrapnel empacted everywhere. Carmine dropped it when several hit him. The acid on his legs crippled him, causing him to fall down. The the already worn flooring gave way and sank into the sewer waters. Carmine managed to grab on to the edge to keep from falling into the toxic waters. The darkness enclosed upon War.

"Ooohh, shit!" Carmine yelled out as shit continuously hit the fan. Okay, this was bad. Really bad. The explosives in his grenade launcher had just all detonated in his face from the acid, his legs were pretty much useless, and the ground was collapsing beneath him... FUBAR was the appropriate term.

He clung to the edge of the sewers for dear life, but only for a brief moment. He really wished his helmet was still intact, because that filter would've been nice. He managed to drag himself onto the remaining flooring with his one good arm, making his best attempts at using his dead weight second. He was officially soaked in shit, piss, and various types of blood that weren't limited to his own.

He could feel the effects of the battle working now. He felt like everything he was coated in. He was burnt up everything constantly exploding in his face... One eye had closed itself up and refused to open. He wiped the massive amount of blood off his face with the back of his hand, but only succeeded in smearing sewer sludge across it. I wish I didn't know what this was...

He looked in the direction of the Xenomorph again, wishing for some other tool with which to damage it. Alas, all he had was his VP 70... The thing pretty much never broke, apparently, and it wouldn't explode in his face like everything else did. So, he pointed that in the Xeno's direction, now decided they were having a parapleigic fight, and squeezed off a few rounds with what little strength he had left. Half of them missed, the other half punching a few holes through the Xenomorph's hand. When he heard nothing more than clicking coming from the gun in response to pulling the trigger, he just threw it at the Xeno, instead only succeeding in making it fall into the water with a loud splash.

He then removed his Ka-Bar knife from its holster on his left boot. The acid had just eaten away at the handle slightly... Nothing that affected the blade. He grit his teeth slightly, and looked right at the Xeno's elbow... He held the knife loosely between his fingers, and then hurled it right where his eyes were looking. The good news was, years of training himself with a knife let him hit any target he wanted to with it. So, the knife would proceed to rip through all the nerve and bone in the Xenomorph's arm, before the handle fell to the ground without a blade.

He began to slide himself across the wall in the Xeno's location, a stream of blood trailing behind him. He was wishing heavily for his legs to begin working again... But they wouldn't, and he knew it. He had nothing left to shoot with or throw-- Apart from grenades, and he wasn't going to use those anymore. There wouldn't be any ground left to walk on, and he wasn't that dumb. So, it'd come down to both of them having to use their last bits of strength to kill each other, point-blank. There wasn't enough ground left around them for it.

(I got one more post to make, War. Then our fight's done.)

War heard something. It sounded like a heavy object. There was only one thing ahead of War. Even without sight, War could tell that it was Carmine.

War began clawing his way to Carmine. He had to close the distance. Using his good arm, War started closing the distance. His strength allowed him to cross it quicker.

His sences told War that Carmine was very near. War then bit down on Carmine. His teeth combine with the blood seaping from his second mouth added to the damage Carmine had. Carmine let out a tell and began to struggle.

Judging by the movements, War was biting on his good shoulder. War felt cuts arise on his side. Luckly for War, he bit down on the arm that had Carmine's weapon. If War could hold on, he could end this fight.

War felt the piece of Carmine he had slowly disentegrating in his mouth. He tasted the blood from Carmine's body. War continued biting on Carmine. Slowly but surely he felt the limb slice off Carmine's body.

Carmine let out a hellish yell as a small thump landed on the floor. He began swearing and struggling even more.

Carmine hadn't ever felt such pain in his entire life, but his one good arm was now gone. He let out a heavy grunt as the fucking thing bit into it, and a loud scream as the thing chewed right through it. He lay on the floor for a brief moment, then felt the thing try to bite through his neck. Fortunately, the thing managed to miss biting right through due to being blinded, and most of the bite ended up in his bad shoulder... Not that it mattered. He was fucked anyway.

He swung his remaining arm at the Xeno, and managed to knock it off of him, but it tore out all the muscle in his arm in the process. He let out an ear-splitting roar in both rage and pain, and somehow managed to turn himself over and swing his right leg up into the air... It was only his shins that were screwed up. The muscles in his thighs worked just fine, although slightly damaged by now.

He extended the daggers in his boot, and his heel down hard into the Xeno's neck... Severing all the blood vessels, as well as the spine. He then extended the one in his other boot, and brought it hard into the other side of the Xeno's neck... The head was severed instantly, but his boots were melting away, and his feet would follow. He managed to pull his legs away from the blood, but his boots were gone, and his feet heavily burned.

He was now laying on his back, staring at the roof of the sewers... His legs wouldn't be able to take him anywhere for sure now. The muscles in his shins would be literally destroyed, and his feet were probably going to disappear... He just couldn't feel it. He wasn't looking at them anymore... He didn't want to see what they looked like.

They'd be a mutilated mess, he already knew.

His face twisted into an expression of hate, rage, pain, and yet victory. He'd won. He'd managed to kill two enemy bigshots in one mission... Yet, for some reason, he didn't feel proud about it. He couldn't feel anything at all except pain. He couldn't even move his neck now.

His remaining arm was totally useless, and anything intact was burned up from the Xeno's blood. He started to feel light headed, and became dimly aware of a warm pool forming around him. He turned his head to the side, and saw that the warmth was actually his own blood seeping out of the holes created in his body. He could see the Xenomorph out of the corner of his eye... Yeah, it was dead. Unless they could live without a head, it was dead.

As he began to feel lighter than usual, his vision seemed to begin shifting and becoming darker than usual. His spotlamp shoulder-attachment was all that kept him able to see at all... But it was shining in his eyes. It didn't register in his head that it was because the spotlamp had been attached to his right shoulder, which was no longer attached to his body.

As everything went black, he began to see images from the past flash through the darkness. One memory stood out clearly. It was the day he'd first received the Hellish life he lived for years on end... The explosion. He'd searched hard for his parents... For anyone. He had found nothing, and just broke down and started crying. He'd done that for about year. But not anymore.

He suddenly began to feel increasingly cold, and yet burning hot at the same time. He felt a few drops of water hit his face, then simply add to the collection of various liquids forming around him. That was the only sound he could identify. He would probably last another fifteen minutes alive, but it didn't matter. He let out a louder, wetter cough than usual, now certain that there was heavy damage to everything in his chest from the acid, but he couldn't manage to say anything louder than a whisper.

I... I failed... Need... Help. He'd made an attempt to say it, but it ended up just becoming thoughts in his head. He curled up into a ball in a futile attempt to stop the flow, but only succeeding in causing a huge amount of pain. That had been his greatest fear. Not pain, not suffering, not death. Just failure. He'd promised he wouldn't screw everything up by being untrained...

In his mind, he'd just broken that promise.

The darkness was complete, and his consciousness had finally failed. Victory was his, but he blacked out from blood loss. He'd almost certainly die soon, because he couldn't stop the flow. Though he stood the victor tonight, it'd be his time to go.

He bled from uncounted wounds. His arm was malfunctioning and his pale hair was dripping on filthy water, red blood and who knew what else. He had lost all feeling in his right foot and he'd lost the spare pair of boots he had liberated from the dead marine from Carmine. His rifle was lost, carried away by the currents of the sewer, and his wounds were beginning to show signs of infection. He had been going for 41 hours without so much as a wink of sleep and even an rest of any form. The closest he'd gotten to was monitering radio traffic, and that required far too much mental concentration to be relaxing. His leg was a mess and he was limping heavily, favouring his left side. From his one working hand, his right one, his signature weapon hung loosely.

Colt Python .357 Magnum with enough attachments to consider it highly illegial on Earth and most of it's colonies. It had been his father's. He looked like the Devil himself, with pale, blood-soaked skin, slick white hair and blazing red eyes -his implants were stuck on infrared- and a gaunt figure that still stood tall, slowly making his way through the muck. Even greviously wounded as he was, he managed to retain his dignity. Of course he did, he was a Darkblade. He'd been raised in the old school of soldiery, and had been taught to inspire as well as to fight. Looking back through his blood-line, he was the military equivalent of nobility, and it showed in his stance, in the confident way that he looked around himself, haughtily taking in his surroundings.

Even as the sewers fell apart around him as the first stages of the bombardment became, he excuded an aura of calm, of competence. This was a man that made you feel that everything was really going to be okay. And for once, they were. His first ever mission with true command, and it had been a resounding success. He had more than enough reason to wear that faint, grim smile that graced pale, filth-caked lips. The uniform and armour stained with shit and gore, it was clear that he'd been through hell. And yet he still stood tall. The latest -and only- surviving member of the Darkblade line, Malus surveyed the results of the recent batttle with satisfaction. Carmine had aquitted himself well in his baptism of fire. He'd fought with the ferocity and determination to make an ancient War Daemon shudder.

"All remaining human forces. This is Commander Malus Darkblade of Weyland-Yutani Corporation We are evacuating this city. Report to the nearest Weyland-Yutani base camp for extraction. This goes for everyone, civillian, marine, or merc. I don't care if you have left your teddy or your grandmother's ashes. In the name of all that is holy, we are purging this city. Report to your nearest evacuation stations. It is safe to come out." He spoke, after thumbing on his micro-bead. His faint Australian accent echoed throghout the city as his call was repeated over every single PA speaker in the entire city. Everyone heard the soft-spoken man announcing that they were leaving the place that they had all fought so hard to protect.

He knew that it had to be done. If a single contaminant escaped, it would happen again. Twice as bad, because Earth would still be rebuilding. Still be weak. Unprepared for a second assault, that perhaps not even Malus culd defend against. No. He would not risk it. It ended here, in this old German city. There was no way in hell that the bugs were getting out of this alive. Not a single one. He would turn this city into glass. Because he had to. It was a desicion that perhaps a Marine could not make, but a Corporate could. He was not a hero. He was something else. He did what had to be done.

And if people blamed him for it, then that was a price he would pay. He would frankly be glad that there were people left to blame. So as he tenderly kneeled by the wounded soldier beside him and gently picked him up, cradling him with one arm as the other reached to the trophy that the young Mercenary so truly deserved, and started walking. He sloshed through the shit with a determined look on his expression, his soldier on one arm and the bug at the other. "You did your duty, Darman Carmine. You did it well, let me take it from here now." He said softly, unsure of whether or not Darman could even hear.

The young soldier had done something that only the bravest of individuals could hope to achieve. It wasn't medals. It wasn't trophies. It was far rarer, and far more valuable. He had earned the respect of Malus Jay Darkblade, a man for whom respect was a dirty word.

And so as he climbed from the sewer and walked up the boarding ramp of the Waffle parked right next to the sewer enterance at his request. He strapped the wounded soldier into the medbay seat and signalling for Vevlaa to get him stabilised by any means nessecary, he also dragged the bug into the cargo bay. It's blood had long evacuated it's shell, and had eventually oxidised on it's own. Placing the trophy next to the other one the man had earned, Malus saw Delta advance in his wake, a trophy of his own in hand. Mal inclined his pale head to the fellow veteran in professional respect, and friendship. "Look at all these bug corpses. Dead. All dead. Now That, gentlemen, is what I like to see." He growled softly, placing his good hand on Delta's armoured shoulder before turning to look at Mark.

"We all did what we had to out there. We did our duty, and I ask no more of my soldiers than that. It wasn't pretty, but it never is. We lost good people out there. Look at what you have done. You just saved the world. I don't care what Kidd or Saysell or any self-righteous Jarhead says, you have all proved yourself heroes this day. Every single one of you." He said this in his usual soft manner, looking them all in the eye, each in turn. He then turned and exited the ship, and watched as it took off without him. He raised a single, battered hand, waving a temporary goodbye, his malfunctioning left arm hanging limply by his side, spent by the effort of dragging the dead Xeno.

As it flew towards the stars to drop off the victorious soldiers in the USCM battleship that had only now just come into orbit around Earth, he knew that thiers was the true face of heroism. The people who don't fight the Good Fight, but fight the nessecary one. They took the fall, they did all the dirty things that no-one should do, because someone had to do it, an they were willing. They were not the kind of soldiers you would hear of in fairy tales and heroic propaganda. They were real heroes, who paid for thier medals in blood and sweat. The tears always came after. And tears would be shed, for those whom had fallen.

He turned towards his own ship. The Grim Reaper. Also once his father's. It was his pride an joy, his home and his legacy, all in one. And now it was packed with civilians and marine survivors. As he stepped on board, everyone moved out of his way. They were afraid of him. He sighed, knowing that it was the way things were. It wasn't fair, but it was the way they were...


[FIFTEEN HOURS LATER]

The city of Nuremberg was no more. Reduced to rubble by the orbital bombardment that the battleship USS AUSTRALIS had laid down on the city. Any survivors whom had been unwilling or unable to leave were dead now. He'd signed thier death warrant. A many lives for all of humanity. It was a choice that every man dreaded making. Even Malus. He stood at the bridge of the ship, his soldiers by his side, all wearing bandages and splints and eye-patches. None of them, not even Malus, was medically fit to stand here. But stand here they did. Side by side. Carmine, sitting in his wheelchair, gazing out at the firestorm with cold, disturbed eyes. Delta and Vevlaa, watching the sight with muted reverence, heads bowed. They'd seen planetary destruction before. But not on Earth. Thankfully, it was not on this scale. Still, it was humbling. An ancient city, rich with history and honour, ripped assunder by the order of one man.

Floating in front of them were the bodies of twelve Colonial Marines, all in thier caskets. And one Corporate Mercenary. Private Gene Wells, posthumously promoted to the rank of Private First Class. He'd gotten the corpses out. As many as he could. They deserved a proper funeral. Now, thier bodies floated on through the void, thier bodies consigned to the blackness of space and thier souls hopefully gone on to paraidse. Well, all the souls but one. The cloning process was going well. Another few days and Gene would be back with them.

A Marine Corporal, one of the soldiers whom Carmine and Hope had rescued from the main building, looked at the firestorm stoically, bearing both his abandonment by her superiors and her grevious wounds with an inner conviction that impressed even Malus. The young woman turned towards the Mercenaries, studying them intently. They were a grizzled, silent group, as diverse as they were deadly. Every single one, with only two execptions, had once been a marine. The former had been a cop. The latter...well, no-one was entirely sure. He kept pretty tight-lipped about his past. "What happens now?" She asked, her voice quiet, knowing that this was a silence to be broken gently. She was wearing the Weyland-Yutani Patch on her uniform, replacing the old USCM one. After what she'd seen, she'd cast her lot in with them.

"The only thing we can do." Malus replied so softly that he could barely be heard, not taking his eyes of the firestorm he had created. "We do what humans have always done after a catastrophe of this scale. We survive. We rebuild. We get back on our feet and wait for the next punch that will knock us down. It will come. And when it does, We'll be there to punch back." He whispered solemnly.