#its as if the apv jumped by like 10 i do not remember this being so strong tasting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

illskeleton-blog · 8 years

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Alien Fan Fiction

-The void was silence, darkness, and death. As the cold, unforgiving, vacuum continued it's cosmic ballet; an interloper moved through it as a dead, steel, coffin. Within this giant coffin slept the crew of the U.S.C.S. Musashi. A refitted military ship, it was equipped with a second generation FTL drive (faster than light). As they slept the powerful artificial intelligence systems kept most systems on standby or even shut down. Unlike most military vessels, the dropships and apv bay was filled with survey equipment. Within the armory lay their mining and demolition gear; explosives, laser cutters, plasma torches, and small arms munitions for the occasional indigenous creatures. Approximately moving 1.75 times light speed, the sleepers dreamt as their cold, calculated, and logical pilot guided them to their destination. Suddenly, as if the overture of the dead arising, terminals began to light up and display vital functions. "Destination Threshold...Destination Threshold...Destination Threshold" a robotic voice called over the intercoms as the artificial gravity began to overcompensate for the rapid declination in velocity. Cups, bottles, canisters, and anything not tied down; shofted from the release of inertia. Now, as if one glorious lotus bloomed, the freezers began to open. One by one, the dead sleepers awoke with the ship. "Jesus Muthr, why can't these company pricks remember it's cold as fuck after a freeze. At least warm up the bedroom." Griffin was the engineering technician, not a position of authority but, he did carry nearly 10 years of experience. His coal black hair was matted to the side of his head after 2 years in the freezer. As he sat up he was greeted only by the fuzzy glaze of what he called "human antifreeze" a viscous fluid at room temperature, it became more like petroleum jelly when one was in the freezers. It held a small amount of body heat within the sleepers to prevent cryothermia and frostbite. Wiping away the goo, Griffin slowly blinked as the mucus membranes all flooded his sinuses and tear ducts. Typical symptoms from hypersleep he carefully stood up and almost screamed as his bare feet met the cold, plasteel floor. The next to awaken was Gorman, her strawberry blonde hair looked like something out of a Lovecraftian horror as she sat up "Because the company cuts every corner it can unless it's a high level exec. And we, Griffin, aren't even minnows in their sea of sharks." She too hated the long hauls but loved the money. Paid a salary of credits along with backpay for transit, bonuses for salvage, and full health benefits; she could at least live comfortably. As she left her frozen sarcophagus of a bed, she yelled out "The least they could do is provide footwear." "Quit griping you two, it's not like it'll make a difference." Came the annoyed first words from Schumacher, the liason Marine Sergeant. He was hired on this mission to make sure everyone survived the oncoming year and a half it would take to 'Turn the lights back on' as most survey colonists called it. "At least you're alive, I read the first colonists died from a meltdown in the atmospheric processor's core." Schumacher was a by the book marine, his second however, was not. "I heard there was an infection or something, led them all to go 'off the reservation ' or at least that's one of the rumors." Smalley was exactly like his namesake, small. Standing 213 centimeters he barely weighed in at 65 kilograms. As small as his frame was, he was accepted into the USCMC for his eyes. Scores on sharpshooting from recruits never surpassed 600 out of 1000, his beat the records at 925 his first test and 950 his second. "Can we all just shut the fuck up until we've had some coffee and breakfast? " came the girlish voice of Braxton, the crew's lead communication officer. Her red hair in disarray as she too got up, wiped herself off, and showered. Braxton was in her mid thirties, cute, and stubborn as a mule. She had a scar on her left shoulder where she had her 'Bug Stomper' tattoo removed. Smalley and Schumacher knew this, which is why when they were asked about her they both replied 'yes' to her assignment aboard the Musashi. "Only if we get to look at your pretty face, Braxton." Smalley joked. There was a gentle, harmless laugh in his voice. "Don't flatter yourself Smalley, nobody likes a suckup." Braxton retorted "Who's sucking up? I'd sleep in primary quarters if it meant being greeted by a brainy redhead with an affiliation towards knives." As the hours passed, the typical, ship wide scrambling took place. Shuttles and civilian dropships were outfitted, atvs were fueled, weapons prepped, comms calibrated, and survey gear stowed. "Hudson, do you think we'll find anything of value?" Smalley asked as they worked on calibrating the ctv or 'Civi twat vessels' as marines called them. Similar to an APV, these had light to no armor, plexiglass windows, and no weaponry on board. As Schumacher described them 'canned meat on wheels' after the events of Shaw's Harvest. A group of PITs or, planetary independence terrorists, had infiltrated the primary mining colony on LV 613 and began sabotaging equipment. Eventually it led to guerrilla warfare and the need of USCMC escorts with each convoy. Without armor or on-board weapony, the convoys were sitting ducks for the insurgents to turn the convoy's occupants into shredded meat. The P.I.T. had been quiet for years though, he knew that. He just didn't trust that fact. "Honestly, the only thing of value on this rock is the ore and what Wey-Yu tech we can salvage. I doubt anything else survived the blast." Hudson was adjusting the suspension system from beneath the ctv as he spoke. He grunted before "There, she's ready for all terrain. Thank god we got Wey-Yu to jump for the new transaxle systems. The old ones burnt out on rough terrain. In the communications 'bucket' as most called it. A small ten meter by fifteen meter pod that sat adjacent to the hangar bay with an array of instrument panels. Braxton sipped her coffee with a content sigh. She was reading over the past communication records of Hadley's Hope when Schumacher announced his pressence. "Anything interesting out there?" "Jesus Christ sarge, can't you cough or something first? And oddly enough, yes." Braxton jumped a little as she exclaimed. "I've been going over the past records and found an anomaly, it could just be x-rays or radiation interference but, under all the original signals coming from the beacon there's this hidden signal. I've been isolating it but it's heavily encrypted. Way beyond military encryption." "Really? Any luck getting a portion of it decrypted? " Schumacher asked as he lit a narco stick "No sir, except for about 12 seconds of this." Braxton said as she punched a key on the terminal. "It's on speaker." The signal was heavily distorted as she adjusted the input, until both their eyes became as big as silver dollars. -Alpha Killo Two Four Niner! Alpha Killo Two Four Niner. This is A. Jorden, on company orders we've surveyed the site. We found some kind of alien ship. Upon investigating the hold...something attached itself to my husband's face. I repeat.....static- "This is classified information do you understand Braxton? " "Yes sir, I guess Smalley was close." Later, as the crew met in the hangar bay the officers stood, addressing the civilian and military crew members who counted thirty five civilians and twelve marines. Schumacher "Ok, here's your briefing. Twenty years ago, the atmospheric processor's core on LV 426 went critical, for those of you who don't know, this typically means total devastation. From long range scans they found the mai structure of Hadley's Hope, the colony on LV 426, was intact. Five years ago Wey-Yu received an automated communication from the AI that ran both the colony and the AP. We don't know how but, it seems the auxiliary power units had just enough stored to slowly bring the computer core back online. Our mission is to investigate what caused the initial meltdown and if possible, reinitiate the AP. There will be four teams, communications, led by officer Braxton. Engineering, led by Griffin . Survey, led by Gorman, and salvage, led by Hudson. Each team will have three USCMC escorts, armed and willing to help if need be. I'll let each officer give orders for your respective teams." "Sir, wouldn't the processor going critical lead to radiation patches?" One marine, Jasper, a stocky man with a broad face that seemed to be flattened by a frying pan. "Typically it takes ten to thirty years for the radiation to reach its half-life" A robotic voice said from the back. On the breast of his jacket said Bishop. "However, there could have been a catastrophic vent, that would only release vaporized nitrogen and hydrogen." "Jesus Bishop, don't you ever make any noise?" One marine joked, it was protocol to have a synthetic on any Wey-Yu assignment that enlisted the USCMC. "Bishop is correct, now get to your assigned posts, first team drops at 1300. Dismissed" Schumacher lit a cigarette as he dismissed the crew. Over by the equipment bay, Griffin was going over the schematics of the Atmospheric processor and colony with his team. "So, first off everyone links up with comms to establish clear communication with each other. Second, we set up the EM-Gens to power what's left of the colony. Third, we start the daunting task of salvaging the AP, if we can. If not we have a prefab on it's way with the eta of six weeks. " His team was a ragtag group of engineers and techs, all who seemed a little crazed or eccentric. Over by the communications pod, Braxton was addressing her team. "First order of business is establish site wide communications. I want sat-net up by 1600 and sat-com up by 1800. After that, we get to go over the primary drives of the AI and look for any communications we've not yet decrypted or logged with Wey-Yu. As we're doing this, we need to get communication with the Solomons and Gateway online." Smalley sat in with the Survey team as Gorman addressed them. "Ok our job is simple, log and assess the terrain and any mineral veins for the colonists and mining teams that will be here in six months. Once engineering is finished with their primary directive we will be working closely with them to establish a refinery once we've gotten the surrounding two hundred kilometers mapped. Stay in three man teams, two civi's and one marine." As 1300 approached, Schumacher was visited by Braxton in his quarters. "Braxton, having issues?" "No sir, the system finished decrypting a second transmission. Listen to this" She held out a comm pad as audio played. -Mayday mayday, this is Corporal Hicks of the Sulaco, my unit has experienced immense casualties after touch down on LV 426. The only survivors are two civilian females, a damaged android, and myself. All USCMC personel are KIA. I repeat, all colonial marines are KIA. Unknown alien life forms have infested the colony on LV 426 and in our subsequent dispatchment we were attacked.- "Jesus Christ, a whole platoon dead by alien lifeforms? The colony infested with these things, what are they?" "No clue sir, should we arm the civilians?" "No, just make sure no one hears about this. It could lead to a panic. I'll address my men to stay frosty and keep it under wraps."

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