Let The Games Begin..

As always here’s to Jack, Jose, Jim and Johnnie – my four favorite men.

~*~*~*~*~*

Wake up.

Swimming through the hazy ocean of her mind the sudden intrusion of rational thought was an annoyance. Wake up, indeed. No. She was far more happy hanging here.. no battles to fight. No daily struggle. No internal battles for her here. Here it was peaceful. Quiet. Perfection.

Wake UP.

Up. WAKE. Must wake up.

Mentally recoiling from a voice that sounded much like her own the mind Ripley curled in on herself, intent on ignoring her own voice that was compelling her to wake from her slumber. Resisting again the mind Ripley snuggled into the misty haze that surrounded her. She was warm and safe, curled around the others.. Safe guarding the hi..

Wait a moment.. Other warm slippery bodies.. The smell… she was happy safeguarding the hive? What the..?

No.

No she was Ripley. Ellen Ripley. Warrant Officer Ellen Ripley Ident Number W5645022460H. Snapping to attention and almost braining Hudson who was at that moment shinning a pocket torch in her eyes Ripley shot upwards, her back arched like a hissing cat at a passing canine. Ignoring Hudson who was now jabbering frantically to the others that made up her crew Ripley breathed deep, taking pleasure in the feel of air albeit cold air in through her nose, deep into her lungs.

“Jesus H Christ, man. Almost took my fuckin’ head off, man.”

Hudson paused to rub the side of his neck almost sheepishly. Eyeing Vasquez as she clambered to her feet with the aid of Hicks and was half lifted and half limped her way towards him and Ripley. Vriess’s chair had been taken away when it became apparent that it wasn’t just used as a method of conveyance. Not that they’d had a choice but they could have used what Vriess considered hidden gems about now. Jack, John or Jim. It didn’t matter.

“Where are Chase and Call?”

“They zipped you out cold, man. Rounded up the kid and Call and they were gone. The big one was on about taking her to a med lab or somethin’ but who the hell knows, man. Shit. This is just like LV426. Fucked before we even start.”

Leaning back and resting his weight against his heels Hudson slumped down. The whole getting your ass fragged, going back for more and then getting it re handed to you was old. Been there, done that. Bought the fuckin’ shirt. He didn’t like it 300 years ago and still didn’t now. Noticing he had lost his audience Hudson slid a glance at Ripley and felt his jaw drop and his eyes take on a cartoon appearance as she started to do what he had done a few hours ago, but she had more effect. Hell, even Johner was suddenly awake at the sound of the merciless pounding thuds and rhythmic grunts.

It became obvious that Ripley even with her hybrid strength wouldn’t be getting through anytime soon but for the love of god the noise would sure and shit be annoying the hell out of the things that put them there. Striding to Vasquez and slinging his arm under hers and half hefting her to his left he grinned and waited. He wasn’t one of the most annoying assholes he knew for nothing. Silently counting off numbers in his head he and the other waited. Johner leaning against the wall muttering curses under his breath, Hicks stood over a seemingly relaxing Vriess.

Twenty seven..

Twenty eight..

A few more minutes of the symphony ala Ripley and that door will open. Pasting the cross between ‘Hi Honey, I’m home’ and his famous shit-eating grin on his boyish features he pulled the single salute in readiness. Grinning even more he could of whooped and hollered as in walked Call and the kid. It wasn’t like he breathed easier or nothing, he told himself sucking it up but he could relax knowing that their numbers hadn’t lost another two..

~*~

She glared at the mottled muscular back in front of her. Call had wrapped an arm around her torso when it looked like she had started to totter unsteadily. Whatever the things were it seemed that they had her number – and they could take count. Having never before encountered something that could inflict damage like what she could and drones did not count; she was pissed more than anything else and a little bit curious.

The curiosity ride would wait until the pissed off ride had gone loop de loop first. Feeling the arm of her almost auntie Chase had almost wanted to tear it away but knowing that Call did not need to have anger vented on her made her refrain. So instead she chose to ignore and glare. Not that she was childish mind.

If the thing that had introduced itself as Hee tch was aware of her pissed off stares and fractionally narrowing eyes he didn’t once offer reproof like what Johner or Hicks would of done if they had caught her eye balling them. After coming to conclusion that he was both blind and stupidly dumb, Chase eased up on her silent glaring. She gathered from Calls conversation earlier that they were on a ship – a thing ship – and she had been hurt. Well, duh.

She had been happily about to finish off what she started with the smaller version of big, dumb and stupid earlier when she had been almost grabbed by the scruff of the neck, hoisted and then flung out of the way. Taking the hint she had come to the aid of her mother. Again just when she would have swiped and lifted one of the things heads off she was yet again stopped. Mister Big, tall, stinky and stupid. If it wouldn’t freak out the others she was sure she would bare her teeth at him. A distinctly drone like thing to do.

Looking down and taking in the metal grating and then above her, registering the solid walls and then to each side and finding the same she wondered why the things had done whatever it was they had done to her. She wasn’t a simpleton or stuck in childhood like some of the others thought – she acted on a full adult capacity, mostly. The ship was strange. It smelled funny. It looked weird. It was full of the things, their odd musky scent was every where, so much so she probably couldn’t stick her nose in the air, take a few breaths and find out where the others where.

Deciding to give it a whirl anyway; who knew where the thing they were following was taking them and promptly sneezed. And then promptly sneezed again.

“Sweetie?”

Call eyed the thing that was named H’tch when the kid had started to sneeze almost violently. Mr whatever the fuck it was had stopped its authoritative march and had whirled around almost shocked. Call hoped he wasn’t shocked that the kid had maybe just sprayed him with bogeys or something. She could of jumped out of her skin; albeit synthetic when another loud sneeze ripped through the semi silence.

“..Damn.. It...”

Calls eyes flew open wide as it became apparent that Chase was talking – actually talking a lot and despite the fact that the language was something straight of the book of Hudson it was a novelty. That was until the H’tch person was stood directly in front of the kid and looking down at her with something akin to curiosity on.. well she guessed you would call them features? If tusks and mandibles could be called facial features.

Sliding a look to where the kid was now rubbing at her eyes and shaking her head, looking like a hunting dog trying to clear a snout full of anti mate. Call found herself staring. The things eyes were fixated on the still lowered head of the kid – gulping and then almost biting down so hard in a mix of shock and fear as Chase straightened up, reached out with a hand and pushed at the chest that was blocking her way and then took a step forward with her neck arched strangely, her eyes appearing to be shut and taking deep breaths.

Call was speechless – was the thing going to take offence to be shoved, even through it was kinda gently outta the way? Where they going to get vacuumed or something?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The strange almost cough like noise made him stop in his gait – the female had made it a few times in the medical bay and then seemed to of stopped. For it to start making the same noise meant that it was yet again sick? How frail and sickly these oomans were.. Turning to see if they did indeed need to turn around and go visit old Zion again H’tch’s ear drums yet again were assaulted by that strange cough like noise.

The sudden feel of flesh, cool soft flesh upon his own had him shooting a surprised glance at the females seeming to dither in the middle of the main corridor. He was surprised at the texture of the hand and peered down, noting the difference in color and then wonderment at how soft and small it appeared against his own chest.

An unexpected sensation had him hooding his eyes when the ooman slid it towards his breast seeming to pause over his heart. Eons could have past when he looked down to find the youngling looking at him with a level stare. Her skin appeared white to his eyes then, little dots here and there scattered across her features. Her hair was loose in a coif that was alien to him; most females had either dreaded or braided hair of some kind – and it seemed to float and then coil.

The shade could not be pinpointed either it was a mix of gold, honey and then with strands the shade of his hide but it was the eyes that had him staring. The stare he had thought to be level earlier appeared to be infinite, as if there for a moment but with the promise of being gone the next time you looked. A low growley purr started when the quick shove that had been forceful enough to make him take a step back connected. Slanting his eyes at the transgressing female, he made to push back, Instinct demanding for him to make the unruly female submit only to find that the target of such was now no longer there.

Spinning so fast that he almost got a slap in the face from his own dreadlocks H’tch took a step after them but it became apparent that they no longer needed his help to find the rest of their clan. It, the female, he corrected himself had rapidly covered the remaining ground the holding cell and was almost goofily looking at the wall and began to blink with the dull pounding one of the occupants fist were making became more pronounced before it too, took a step back and slammed a fist against the door.

It did it once and as the noise reverberated, H’tch heard the stampeding approach of other Yautja coming their way. Raising a clenched fist, he signalled them to stop. He recognised his brother in the crowd, somehow able to move himself about the ship with a pronounced limp and similar to him, an arm out of action. He answered Di’Sha’s dark look with one that was pitch and when a low growl was emitted he stood forward, his stance aggressive. The little knife was not to be harmed. Yet.

His ears cocked at a soft chitter and he found himself looking at the two females again. The Kid, Chase was making the soft noise, which increased until it sounded like high-pitched squeaks. He could not be sure but he was sure in some way that she was communicating with her mother, the other aggressive female. Walking forward until he was level with the ooman females and flicked a switch. A soft hum later and the doors opened.

Regarding the females beside him, he was startled at the emotion that was shown at their reunion. In a tangle of limbs, squealing and laughter both were accepted back into their clan with what H’tch thought, much too much fuss. It was not as if they been separated for a hundred cycles was it? It was obvious that even through the little knifed one was a warrior of her tribe she was also as he thought young and still appeared to be affectionate with her alphas.

A low trill announced his sire and falling to a knee, he greeted him.

He did not speak until his shoulder was grasped by hand. Subverting from his submissive posture he rose and continued to stare at the scene in the hold.

“Ah the troublesome female that sent my youngest son back to me cowed. Zion is fascinated with her biology. Not even a Yautja would be on its feet again so quickly after this particular battle and this fact has our healer stumped. Have you anything to report, my son?”

H’tch pondered. So, the old healer found this ooman fascinating, did he? Too bad he would not share his own personal findings. Let the healer rot. Keeping his eyes downcast, H’tch bowed his head and responded first with a grunt.

“These oomans were lucky, elder. They bleed easily enough.”

“I doubt your sibling will agree with you. He has tales of thwei similar to hard meat prey and I have seen myself the surveillance from the reconnaissance as well as first hand viewing when we took their ship.”

H’tch cursed his brother. Little suckling snot obviously was spoiling for a fight, for redemption of his ‘honor’ after being taken apart in front of the other unblooded. Biting back a stream of colourful but warranted curses he carefully considered his answer, not willing to incriminate himself with his venerable sire.

“They have proven that they can fight, father and they for some reason even through they are ooman, soft meat, that they hunt the Kainde Amedha. Were you not curious of this when we first found them or has my acclaimed father found threat in them where I have not? I will confirm that there was and probably are anomalies in a collection of the oomans but I see no cause for concern. But if you see it then I will stand by my elders wishes and immediately see that the threat is terminated and hung upon your wall..”

Elder Jo’ein waved a clawed hand announcing that this particular aspects of the conversation was over – yes he saw them as a threat but they, the yautja were many and they were on his cruiser, in the depths of space and their meagre ship was immobilised in the belly of the docks. Jo’ein recognised the look that H’tch sported; it was similar to his own when he was curious about something. Nodding thoughtfully he stepped forward and waited for the oomans to stop flapping their lips and silence themselves. It did not take long, he noticed.

As soon as he stepped in and H’tch followed him, the mother and offspring froze and then slid into a watchful stance, each appearing to wish to be in front of the other. One would move and then the other would mirror until the youngling was half picked up and half flung behind one he had heard be called ‘Ripley’. The translator units would allow for the ooman language to be understood but there was the issue of being understood. Deciding to keep it as simple as he could, as they could be simplistic in their understanding, couldn’t they, he spoke his guttural voice disrupting the heavy silence.

“You.. Hunt.. Hard Meat.. prey..”

It was a statement of fact and doubted that they would attempt a falsehood as what was the point. He would simply call them on it. What he was not expecting was the mass ooman speak that erupted. Was there no sense of structure in their clan? He would allow no subordinate to speak when he was! Staring at the trio of ooman males standing to the left of the alpha female, Jo’ein was surprised when the Alpha made no move to discipline them. Oomans..

“What the fuck is a ‘Hard Meat’ and why the FUCK is that thing talking English again? Is it me, man?”

“..Hard Meat.. “

“Great more Alien shit. If we didn’t have enough!”

A female spoke out, seemingly angry about the males yelling. Throwing its arms in the air and whirling around it began to fist a hand but leave its middle digit erect, brandishing it in their directions while angrily retorting.

“THEY speak ENGLISH, assholes. Why don’t you guys do us all a HUGE fucking favor and make like mimes, i.e., shut the fuck up. Want us to get vacuumed? Going the right way about it!”

Jo’ein and H’tch stood back and watched as a war with words erupted, the taller of the males coming forward and standing toe to toe with the irate female and mimicked the throwing of the arms. Clicking with astonishment, Elder Jo’ein talked out the side of his mouth to his son.

“Were they like this in the healing chamber?” Jo’ein twitched a mandible as his son shook his head. They, their jailers had been forgotten about in the face of a row between what could be a mated pair?

“Why you always busting my balls you robotic piece of shit?! Told ya once that I am NOT the man with whom to fuck. Want proof, lemme borrow one of Vriess’s wrenches and we’ll go have a…”

Johner did not finish his sentence. Looking to the left and then down he saw the pixie face of the kid staring at him while yanking on his belt like she did when she wanted something when she was very little. Rolling his eyes Johner managed to bite out a much calmer sentence.

“What, KID. Little busy here… Oh.. Yeah.. Nice boo boo brat.”

Chase kept her arm upright, pointing to the less raw cut that ran parallel along her arm, stopping at her elbow. Mentally counting down from ten, she saw the anger, leave Johner’s face somewhat as he switched his attention from wanting to break Call into seeing what she pointed at. Picking up his beefy mitt in her hand and mindful of where her cuts and scrapes were, it would not do to burn his fingers and ran said digits over the planet that was growing on top of her head and then down to her shoulder where it had popped from its socket and then rather roughly been shoved back in.

Sliding Call a glance she continued to hold the big mans attention while Call or her mother answered the question that was posed to them.. Hard Meats? Why could they not speak ‘real’ talk? Stupid stinky things, just wait until there is a dark place and we will see who has the bigger boo boos.

Call could of kissed the kid. Turning to Ripley who was eyeing her child with a small smile, shrugged.

“Hard Meat. Prey. Any idea? They mean the UM’s android army?”

“Is there anything like them recorded through out history.. They look like they have been alive and kicking a long time. Their ship, technology would elude to a civilisation as old as or even older as our own. Otherwise, lets go ask him.”

Stepping forward the women kept a distance but were close enough to speak in low tones so as not to give Hudson another excuse to fire up again. Ripley folded her arms over her chest but kept her claws in sight and every so often would tap them against her pale skin.

“I do not understand.”

The same gravely voice posed the question at them again, but this time with more than a hint of exasperation.

“Hunt. Hard Meat. Prey. Planet. Two days. Cleared?”

“Planet.. Cleared two days ago? He can’t mean.. Ripley. We cleared that planet in the outer rings of aliens two days ago. Hard meats equate to bugs?”

Call rolled her eyes as Hudson was suddenly by her side. Never failed. Mention the word ‘Alien’ ‘Xenomorph’ or ‘Bug’ and he was in front, foaming and spitting like a rabid cat, claws outstretched. Stupid ass.

“Bugs? Whadda they mean Bugs? Hey guys. They got bugs. Maybe this is their idea of hiring us for a job…!”

Ever sardonic Hudson fixed the thing that had spoken with a cocky look and smirked when he saw a flash of anger flicker through its eyes. The mighty Bug Busters and their adventure with a never before seen alien race and how they saved them by kicking the shit out of some bugs.. yep had a nice ring to it. Mimicking Ripley’s stance but not before he snapped his fingers at Johner and the kid and waved for Vasquez, Hicks and Vriess to step forward.

This was a team operation, damnit and eliminating bugs was a team effort. Besides Ripley was the leader, but she always gave the skivvy with the details. These bad asses had a bug problem? Them? This was too good! He spoke as if he was talking to a small child complete with vigorous nodding, knowing that he was being a major asshole but this was payback.

“You gotta BUG problem, man? Yeah? You give us dollar dollar and we help you long long time, yeah?”

“Hudson, they ain’t Asian hookers, don’t piss ‘em off.”

“Hey man, ain’t like I going ‘Sucky Sucky, love you long time’ is it? Shit.. I doubt they even know what that shit means. Hey Rip, they got bugs, we should take ‘em for whatever they got, and smoke those puppies, yo.”

Vasquez rolled her eyes and reached out to cuff him. Hudson aka Mr motor mouth of the known universe and oh my sweet Jesus. Leaning heavily against Hicks, knowing that he was also supporting Vriess, she cursed her injured state. It had been a long time since she had been worked over like this. Well, whatever the fuck they were had helped the kid and were trying to communicate which was a million times better than what the last alien species she had encountered had tried to do.

Yep, she preferred this to being an incubator or swallowing a grenade in the arms of an asshole. Eyes drooping slowly, Vasquez wished that Hudson would just stop talking. Looking at the two aliens that had remained silent in front of them, even when Hudson was an asshole click, growl at each other Vasquez came to the conclusion that they were conferring. She hoped that all this was a misunderstanding and yeah, they had heard about their work or something and had come calling.

Stupid way to do it but it was a way of making friends, in their culture? The bug busters would not be ready to take out anything until they had slept, healed and re stocked. Stepping forward gingerly and trying to keep her limp and unpronounced as possible, Vasquez reached for her back left pocket and retrieved one of many photos that she kept by her ass, to remind said ass that it was to kick some whenever it was instructed to. Holding out the photo she waved it at the grey looking ugly, biting back a look of distaste when it mouth things spread slightly. They were worse to look at than the bugs – in a way. Stepping back and letting out a few choice curses at the niggling pain that continued to announce itself she ambled her way back to Hicks.

“Whaddya give them, man? Ain’t any time for candid camera.”

“I gave them a photo of me and the kid’s first bug kill, asswipe. Fuck you think I was doing? Getting a date? Jesus.”

Leaning on her once commanding officer and wishing that they had morphine Vasquez shot a look at the two aliens in front of them. If she wasn’t wrong it appeared that they recognised the bug. As they took turns in looking at the photo she slid a look to Ripley and half shrugged.

“Looks like we got us another job, man. Yippie kai yay.”

~*~*~*~