[IC] ALIEN vs PREDATOR: LV-629

[Theodorable]

CHAPTER I

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The topography of LV-629 is a simple endeavor, even for the mindless grunt of the United States Colonial Marine Corps. LV-629 houses 8,125 sentients and 22 artificial personnel in six housing pods with an accompanying Operations Pod, a Medical Pod, and a Research Pod. These isolated and semi-permanent establishments are separated by thirty to forty yards of a treaded path, slightly paved with the high xenograsses mowed to provide some semblance of culture. A pasture just South of the settlement houses the AgroFood Processing where synthetic grains are grown to feed the population. The USCMC platoon is housed in the Operations Pod, where a rudimentary barracks was built on the second floor with an adjacent armory and shooting range. LV-629 is a home away from home.

There are three Research Outposts on LV-629, one to the North, one to the West and one to the East. They are, respectively -- Xenobiology, Rudimentary Sciences, and Geosciences. They operate anywhere from 2 to 12 personnel and these pods offer a small housing unit and a research pod. They are responsible for the majority of research on LV-629, whereas the primary settlement is used to facilitate the ore mines in the South and ensure civility and safety for the researchers. The last bastion of civilization is to the South, where the ore mine is located. Extracting trace elements of iron, the mine operates 250 or so workers and is located furthest from the settlement at twelve kilometers in distance.

Our story starts here, on LV-629, and furthermore, with the Bad Blood Strife. While reasons of his exile are still unknown, he had long called the jungles of LV-629 his home since his forced departure from his culture. Things however, were about to take an interesting change. The introduction of humans to the biosphere intrigued Strife, who observed from a distance but remained passive in dealing with the humanoids. What he saw as he maneuvered through the dense foliage, returning to his makeshift campsite from a hunting expedition gave him pause. Settled atop a branch, he switched his sensors on his biomask to thermal imaging, and the fading heat of a pair of humans was clear outside the small research pod. He remained unmoving, but an unsettling feeling caused him to turn his sensors to electromagnetic. There they were. Three hunters, and by the looks of them they were unblooded -- they carried no plasma caster or advanced ornamentation. One of them was crouched, slowly cutting away at the spinal cord of one of the felled humans. There were no electromagnetic signals surrounding the prey. They had been unarmed. Another of the Hunters wielded an extended combistick. He retracted it and placed it on his belt. A gunshot rang out.

The third Hunter roared and extended his wrist blades before leaping at the third humanoid that emerged from the pod. He gutted the pink skin and briefly lifted him from his feet before tossing him to the wayside. Trophies collected, the hunters moved out, unaware they had been observed. They moved eastward at a slow, but deliberate pace -- a pace easily kept by a Hunter much more familiar with the jungle than these Unblooded.

Investigate the Unblooded and discover their true intentions here. Interact with or slay one of the Hunter and retrieve his Wrist Gauntlet to discover their true intentions, or stay behind to investigate/observe the Research Pod.

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"Romeo-November 3, this is Operations, come in, over."

No response. The Research Pod had gone dark two days ago, and not a single call back come. The change in shift had been temporarily halted for fear of a potential security breach, and Director of Research Colin Farworth requested the assistance of the USCMC platoon; he would not be disappointed.

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"Wake up assholes, we ain't gettin' paid by the hour!" Sergeant Bryant's voice was a symphony of discipline and experience, and while the members of first squad would certainly not be appreciative of his constant yelling, no one dared doubted his resolve. The lights flicked on and shone light on the six bunks of 1st squad's dormitory.

"Some of the colonists have been misplaced, got lost in the fuckin' woods no doubt, and we're gonna pull'em out! Come on Dragon, don't make me drag you out of that cot!" While Bryant practiced a no bullshit mentality, two of his Marines had the same last name and thus the use of nicknames was paramount to ensure which Stone knew was getting their ass chewed out at that particular time. "Ready for deployment in fifteen minutes, boys. Being late would NOT be in your best fucking interest."

Sergeant Bryant stepped from the doorway, his combat gear already adorned and his Pulse Rifle slung from his shoulder. He would await first squad to rally at the East Gate.

Marines: Get combat ready and meet Sergeant Bryant at the East Gate for an Extraction Mission at the East Research Pod, which has gone silent.

[Nyther]

Strife turned to watched the other hunters trod off with their undeserved trophies. Those humanoid creatures, while closer to Strife's size than any of the other creatures here, posed little threat without any weapons. While Strife had no problem with killing, he followed the hunter's code, to a certain degree. He only killed for three reasons: protection, food, or if it presented a challenge. Which these creatures, singularly, did not. These Unblooded were obviously forced from the home world for wanton blood-lust.

Strife had been unblooded due to the fact that he killed another hunter. He was with a small group of hunters on a safari on a planet populated with giant behemoths. Strife was in a heated battle with one of the beasts. They had both taken a severe beating as the beast leaped on top of Strife. Strife caught the creature mid jump and they both tumbled on the ground. Strife ended up on top of the beast and prepared to plunge his wrist blades into the beast's head, when another hunter shot the best in the head, killing him. Strife flew into a frenzy. His kill had been stolen. Before the other hunter could react, strife had buried his wrist blades deep into the others chest. As the hunter layed dying, Strife knew he would be executed for his crimes. So he quickly took the ship and flew to this planet, and sent the ship flying back to his planet.

Strife continued observing the hunters. He hadn't had a real hunt in many ages. His heart quickened at the idea of testing his mettle against an adversary closer to his skill level. Something caught the eye of one of the hunters and he left the other two and walked towards a small deer, obviously injured. The hunter sprang on top of it and snapped its neck. It then went back to follow the other hunters. It hadn't planned on eating it, but killed it because it could.

Strife had seen enough of this meaningless killing. Strife jumped from the tree he was observing the creatures from and landed directly behind the hunter. It turned quickly and Strife buried his wrist blades deep in the hunter's gut. The hunter howled with pain as Strife uncloaked so the hunter could see who had killed him. It raised its hand and extended its wrist blades and started to bring them down to slice Strife in half. Strife quickly grabbed the hunter's arm, stopping it mid swing. He then took his wrist blades and pulled them diagonally through the hunter's gut and through its arm. The hunter fell back, dead, as Strife still had its detached arm in his other hand.

The other hunters turned around to see what the commotion was about. They ran back, but were too late. All that remained of their companion was a body with two large gashes in its stomach, with both its head and arm missing. They hissed at the woods as they cloaked. They began scanning the area, but Strife had already made his way back to his camp, being so familiar with this planet. The hunters looked at each other and decided to quickly leave this place.

[Uffizi]

"Wake up assholes, we ain't gettin' paid by the hour!" Sergeant Bryant yelled.

Doc's eyes flashed open, the glare of the light dazzling him. He lifted his hand to his eyes, his fingers scraped away the sleep that had developed from the first real rest the marines had in weeks. The man stood from his cot and stretched momentarily before moving to his locker. He spun a quick combination and flung open the door grabbing and donning his combat armor with fluent expertise; he was a natural. His pulse rifle slung easily over his shoulder, a fresh clip slapped in the numbers on the display read "99", and the safety on. The pulse rifle was standard for a USMC grunt, such as Doc, and it sated the bloodlust that can develop with combat. He holstered his pistol, not before spinning it like some cowboy he saw on the classical movie channel.

"Let's roll fellas, we got fifteen minutes--and I don't want the Sarge to be any more of a prick than he already is!" Doc shouted.

Icarai "Doc" Stone was a tall, slender man. He was no physical powerhouse, like his cousin Durk (who was better known by his nickname "Dragon"), or a genius like Cade (who was an expert in Chemical Engineering), but certainly Icarai was the medic of the group, he was precise with his hands, which aided in his marksmanship and hand to hand combat. If the need for a wound to be patched, or a makeshift splint be made, Icarai was the expert in that category. He knew his services would be needed, he had a bad feeling that had settled in his gut. The man wasn't nervous, rather overcome with adrenaline, which he calmed down with breathing slowly through his nostrils, and exhaling through his mouth. Word was some colonists had gone missing, which was quite strange, and that variable had given the first taste of action, or so Doc hoped, to the first squadron. Things on LV-629 had been pretty quiet, besides a few skirmishes between marines and colonists. It got lonely when you were far from a loved one, or a squeeze as Doc called them. It was typical for the females to.. get around, with so many swinging dicks on the colony. Anyways, Doc dismissed the thought and headed out in a quick jog, his combat boots thudded and echoed on the metal floor as he moved through the corridors, drawn to the location the Sarge had specified.

"Doc reporting for duty, sir!" shouted Icarai, when he finally encountered the Sarge.

[Maengun]

Durk flung himself from his bunk and was at attention, as soon as the sergeant left he quickly made his bunk. He walked over to his foot locker, he kicked it open and grabbed his combat uniform from the chest. Durk quickly put them on and ran to his equipment locker, his heavy boots thudding against the barracks floor as he walked. He pulled out his armor and started checking to make sure the battery for his smart gun is operational.

He attached the swing arm to the m3 then he quickly put ammo into the M56A2. Durk dawned the armor and attached the smart gun, at the end of the gun he had a decal of a dragon with its mouth open, so it would look like the dragon was spitting fire when he would shoot it.

"damn colonist want to go out by them selves thinks the planet is safe." Durk thought

He shrugged his shoulders he grabbed a small case and opened it up, it contained different colors of paints. He smeared green paint over his face, then he grabbed black and smeared it in some areas on his face. Then he put brown on, he grabbed a well worn metal tin he opened it. He grabbed a big pinch of chewing tobacco and put it in his lip. He closed the tin and attached it to his armor, he shut the locker door and walked out of the barracks.

He wished he could have some incendiary weaponry but he wasn't a high enough rank for it or explosives, but maybe he might get some if shit hits the fan on this foreign planet. Once out side he spit making a brown stain on the grass, he saw his cousin doc already out side he checked his equipment one more time. He made sure his pistol was loaded and that he had enough ammo. He walked up next to doc giving him a nudge and giving him head nod "durk dragon reporting for duty sir" Durk shouted with that he saluted the sergeant.

[drallinix]

Rolling out of his bunk Cade landed on one knee reaching underneath his bunk to grab his armor. Slapping it on with the ease of a man who had done so a thousand times he adjusted it a couple of times and stretched. He grabbed an enormous 19 inch knife off his bunk and strapped it to his leg. Taking his VP70 pistol he slammed a clip in and chambered a round. Putting the pistol on safety he holstered it on his hip. As he stepped around his bunk he grabbed his pulse rifle and slapped a magazine into it the LED lighting up on the number 99.

Seeing Dragon putting on paint and Doc jogging out Cade decided to sharpen his knife quickly. Just as dragon was finishing painting his face Cade finished sharpening the blade and sheathed the knife. He rolled up his sleeves like he always did on the jungle planet revealing his tattoos. These tattoos were on both forearms and were a tribal variant of the Gemini astrological sign. Cade followed Dragon out his pulse rifle hanging from its sling.

Walking up behind the two Stone's Cade lit a cigarette. Cade advanced so that he was beside dock unslinging his rifle and readying his stuff as he watched the sergeant anticipating their orders. Adrian leaned and whispered to Doc "ive got the spare medikit in case you need some extra supplies" he finished and fell silent as the sergeant addressed them.