FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The journey to the Hermes passed in dual silence. The group in the entryway sat quietly, mourning for their lost, or in Erebus' case, respecting the sorrow of his new companions. The engines outside fell silent as they left the atmosphere, relying on momentum to carry the craft to the mothership.

Erebus looked around. He could see in all directions at once, courtesy of countless "eyes" under his dome (they weren't really eyes; more like extremely light-sensitive patches of flesh, but they performed the same purpose), so "looking" consisted of focusing his attention on one particular direction or thing. What he saw fascinated him. It was like activating his vision for the first time; so filled with wonder was he.

A room of metal, filled with countless artificial lights and sounds, in a big flying metal box. It was so unlike everything he had ever known, and the fantasticalness of it boggled his mind.

Next to him sat George. He liked George. He was kind and dedicated. He wished George would be his mate, but the human didn't want to. That was okay, he reasoned, since George seemed to like him anyway and wanted to be his friend. That was close enough.

Focusing on the human some more, Erebus couldn't help but feel protective of him. George was so fragile compared to a xenomorph; all of the humans were. But he was so intelligent and so kind, and had healed the xeno when he was at his most vulnerable. And he was pretty sexy…

Erebus knew from prior interactions with the human that it wouldn't do to let his cock evert right here in front of everyone, so he kept it flaccid and inside his slit. He thought back to when George had let him examine his genitals, thinking about how they were so different from his. How could the human keep clean with all that fuzz everywhere? What was the point of that skin that covered the tip of his penis? And having his balls exposed all the time and just hanging from his groin seemed an awfully exploitable weakness; just one swift kick or punch…

Erebus couldn't suppress a small flinch.

Thinking about the human's genitals was causing his desire to mate with him to grow stronger, and to keep it in check he decided to focus elsewhere. It was no use dwelling on what he couldn't have.

Analyzing the rest of his new companions, his fighting instinct drew him to Meyers first. Now that he was sure that the human wasn't a threat, Erebus felt a begrudging but genuine respect for him. His face showed the fading scars of many battles well-fought, and his entire demeanor spoke of a warrior who was not to be underestimated. He was strong, for a human, perhaps even strong enough to take on a xenomorph if he had a weapon, and a fierce resolve burned behind his eyes. Erebus was glad not to be his enemy.

He moved on to the female human and the male that George had called "Barns". They were both respectable, for humans. Stronger than the scientists and security-humans had been, certainly. Barns seemed similar to George in that he was good-natured, kind, and intelligent, at least so far as Erebus could tell since they had only just met a few minutes before. He wondered if Barns and George were already mates, but he doubted it, since he couldn't smell them on each other. He rather selfishly hoped that they weren't; still wishing that George would come around and care for him as more than a friend.

The woman though, she was different. Erebus immediately guessed that the fighting with the xenomorphs had not been good for her. Though the rest of her body was very still, her hands wouldn't stop shaking. Fear and distress emanated from her at alarming levels, and every few seconds she would glance up at him, as if afraid he would make a move and become violent.

Erebus knew this kind of behavior well. After battling the humans for control of the base, some xenomorphs had begun to act like that too, always jumpy and easily startled by noise or movement. Something about the violence they had experienced changed them. They couldn't or wouldn't fight anymore. This affected the drones, but surprisingly also the warriors, even though they were made to fight.

The xeno remembered curling up next to a warrior that had just killed a group of security-humans. He hadn't been seriously hurt, of course, just a few cuts and wounds which would soon heal. But that wasn't the matter with him. The warrior couldn't stop shaking and mewling, clenching his bloody fingers again and again, staring at them. Erebus had cleaned him off and taken him back to the hive, but the warrior still wasn't any better.

He had gotten in front of him and raised his tail, offering to mate with the shivering xenomorph, in an effort to make him feel better. He had never taken anything up his tailhole before, but he wanted to help the warrior and make him recover. The other xeno wouldn't move though, and only moaned sadly when Erebus had poked around under the warrior's tail to see if that was what he wanted instead.

The warrior had been totally uninterested in sex, which was very strange. Erebus had even gone and brought a female to try and prompt the xeno into action, but nothing had worked. Finally he had just curled up next to the warrior and cooed comfortingly until he was asleep. Over the following days he had brought food and water, which the warrior consumed, but he never moved from his spot.

Then the marines had come and Erebus had left to go fight them. Now on board the ship, Erebus gulped. He wondered how the warrior was doing. He hoped it was good.

The female human glanced up at him again, and Erebus felt sorrow for her. She seemed such a good warrior in her own right, but now she might never fight again. He wondered if now she might welcome such a change. He wanted to go and comfort her, but it seemed obvious that she was more comfortable with him on the other side of the room. He determined to tell George about her when they reached their destination to see if he could help.

And finally there was the good-scientist, Thomas. "Good-scientist". What a strange thing. It was new, not wanting to kill everyone wearing those white versions of the cloth things that all the humans wore. Thomas seemed nice enough though. He was smart and curious, and also wise enough to know to be afraid of the xenomorphs. George had been upset when the salty water had begun to come out of Tom's eyes, but Erebus had been very pleased. It was good to see a human fearing for their life. It reminded them of who was the strongest and most dangerous being in the room: him.

Now Erebus felt a little bad about it. Thomas was a good-human, which itself was a new concept, and making him afraid like that hadn't really helped anyone.

Looking back, Erebus wondered how many other good-humans there had been on the base. It was now obvious that not all of the humans had known about the torture and imprisonment below their feet, and Thomas was upset when he found out, so maybe others might have been too.

It suddenly dawned on the xenomorph what George must have been feeling when the alien woke up that morning to find the human vomiting into the mud. The horror and regret he must have felt. He had seen the xenomorphs the same way that Erebus had seen the humans, and so many of both races had died as a result. Now it made Erebus feel sick too, but he didn't throw up like George had.

He felt a quiet hatred building in him, a hatred for Weyland-Yutani, a hatred for anyone and everyone who would kill and lie endlessly just to have their own way. It was the beginnings of what he would later learn was called a "Philosophy".

Erebus looked at the floor, then up and around at the room itself. There were no windows, so he had no idea where they were. He had seen the ship come down from the sky though, so he decided that that's where they must be now. The repulser and rocket engines had gone silent, but the floor still vibrated with the thrum of countless other machines. The ship was alive, if only in a very abstract way. That thought comforted the xeno, but also stoked a boundless curiosity, one that had never shown itself fully while he was under the influence of the hive mind.

Erebus desperately wanted to know how the ship worked, to see its mechanisms and operations himself and learn everything about them. And what did he really know? What was this material that he was sitting on?

He stared down at the floor, pondering. He had never thought about that before. Come to think of it, he had never spared a thought for anything beyond the hive and himself. The thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of revenge, the taste of food, the pleasure of sex, these things had been his life, for what brief span of it he had been free to pursue them. But more than that, they had been enough. The xenomorph had never desired or thought of anything more.

And why should he have; Erebus wondered silently. Those things where all he had ever dreamed of or wanted.

But now, they all seemed so… distant. The feelings were still there, yes, the desire to hunt, breed, and have vengeance. But now they were lesser; secondary. Firstly, above all else, Erebus wanted to learn. The hive was so tiny, a small part of a large base, which was itself tiny compared to the planet beyond. And there was an entire galaxy of planets out there.

Hunting, eating, breeding; these were no things to make a life of. They were a part of life, but not the whole thing. There was so much more. So much more to do, see, and learn!

Erebus felt something deep inside of him, an inexplicable bubbly joy, spreading from his stomach outward, all the way to the tip of his tail. He wanted to laugh, to let his joy out into the world like he had been let out. This was sapience; this was living!

But he couldn't laugh. Because his comrades were not laughing. They mourned their dead, and as this dichotomy fully presented itself to Erebus, he made a pact in his mind. Good people had died to allow this for him, this freedom, this sapience. He would not let their sacrifice be in vain.

The ship jolted as the engines came back to life, the roaring easily audible through the hull.

"We are approaching the Hermes." A voice announced through the intercom.

***

George went through the airlock second to last, carried on a stretcher by Barns and the female marine. Meyers had gone first, with Thomas behind him. George was holding Erebus' hand, a gesture to remind the crew that the giant black monster was a friend, not a foe. He suspected that it would take a lot more than a friendly gesture to convince them of that.

The transport had docked with the Hermes in orbit, and they were now returning to their own ship.

Through the airlock, a row of people lined the hall on either side, a silent honor guard for those who had been lost.

No one said a thing, but George was perfectly aware of the stares that he and Erebus attracted. Some were merely frightened, but others were hateful. Of the assembled, not a one looked innocently curious.

George wished he could just close his eyes and block out the looks he was being given. They were excruciating, far worse than his ankle.

Meyers stopped in front of a security officer and ordered her to detain Thomas, which George protested.

Thomas merely gave him a "What can ya do?" look and went with the officer.

At last the marines passed the silent onlookers and boarded a lift, which took them up to the medical ward in the center of the ship. There, waiting for them, was the chief medical officer, Dr. Anderson. He stared up in wonder at the xenomorph as they entered.

"Holy shit." He said, looking at Meyers. "You actually did it, didn't you? You really captured a xenomorph."

Erebus growled dangerously, and George felt him squeeze his hand a little tighter. In this strange place full of strange people, he was the only one the xenomorph fully trusted, and the way the doctor was talking didn't help matters. Despite the threat implied in the xeno's vocalization, George could tell that he was frightened. The medical ward looked much too much like the laboratory back at the base for comfort.

"Is that the terminology they used." Meyers said; a statement, not a question. "We did not capture him, doctor, he came with us of his own accord, and he has thus far proved most helpful."

"And it has a gender?" Anderson looked at the xenomorph again, an expression of intense scientific fascination painted across his face.

George gritted his teeth. He knew that countenance well; it was one he had worn many times while in university. He knew it was nothing more than a mere expression of innocent curiosity, however eccentric Anderson himself might be.

To Erebus though, who had been made to endure countless doctors and their "curiosities", it would look downright predatory.

The xenomorph growled again, louder this time, and squeezed George's hand harder.

"Ah, but that can wait. Here." Anderson led them into a private medical suite and pressed a button on a control panel, extending the bed from its alcove in the wall. "Set the patient down please."

The marines set the stretcher down directly on the bed and stepped away from it, allowing Anderson to take a closer look at George' ankle. He looked up at Erebus, who was standing on the same side of the bed as he was, still holding George's hand, and said "Excuse me. I need some space to work."

Erebus made a show of readjusting his grip on Georg's hand to be more secure, hissing loudly while pulling back his lips into a restrained snarl.

"Ooo-kay then." Anderson raised his eyebrows behind his round wire-rimmed spectacles, "I guess I'm going over here". He walked around to the other side and began to examine the marine's ankle. "So private Canner, how did you manage to tame a xenomorph?" The doctor asked as he began his work.

"Mr. Anderson," George deliberately used a title that he knew would demean the doctor's position, something which he knew the man hated, to get his attention, "Erebus was not 'feral' when we met, and he certainly isn't 'tame' now. With that in mind, I would advise you not to incite his wrath."

"Sorry." Anderson huffed contemptuously. "I suppose I should ask how you and the xe-" He saw the look on George's face and immediately corrected course "um, Erebus met."

"Erebus chased after me and accidentally knocked us both into an empty water reservoir. He was hurt and I wasn't. I couldn't get out on my own, and he seemed so helpless and…" George searched for the right word "meek. So I healed him with some medical supplies I found and we escaped together."

"And you named him Erebus?"

"I chose that name for myself." The xenomorph said, annoyed.

Anderson jumped, his blonde hair standing on end like a startled cat.

"Yeah, I can talk. And I can understand every single word you say."

Anderson stared at him. "Oh." He croaked. Gathering himself, the doctor straightened his glasses and assumed a more composed stance. "Well," he began, trying to sound nonchalant, "George's ankle isn't broken, just mildly sprained. I can give him some pills and he'll be back at full capacity within a week. He left for a moment and returned with a glass of water and two tablets, which he instructed George to swallow.

The marine did so, and then asked, "Can I stand up?"

"You can, but I wouldn't advise it. Your ligaments will heal faster and hurt less if you don't put pressure on them. I would personally suggest that you retire to your quarters for a week and rest."

"That can be arranged." Meyers said, "We have to return to Steele anyway. Without the marines we lost down there, we don't have enough soldiers to be an effective fighting force. I'm sure the leadership would also be interested to see Erebus for themselves. George, consider yourself on leave for the return trip. Go and get some sleep. You've earned it."

As the marines moved to pick up George's stretcher, Anderson looked at the xenomorph and said "Speaking of seeing Erebus for oneself, could you please sit down on the bed for me? I would very much like to examine you."

George inhaled sharply. That was the wrong thing to say.

Erebus looked down at the bed, back up at Anderson, then raised his arm and backhanded the doctor across the room.

The marines fumbled for their weapons, Meyers instinctively drawing his pistol, but Erebus was faster, slapping the weapon out of the corporal's hand with the flat of his tail.

"Stop! Stop it! Everyone stop!" George cried, raising his hands.

The room became still again; but everybody was tense. Erebus' tail twitched dangerously, and his teeth were bared in an angry snarl.

"Doctor, are you okay?" George called.

Anderson groaned, but managed to heave himself to his feet, grasping at an electrical panel for support. His glasses were broken and he had a black eye. Blood dripped from his nose. "Right." He mumbled, "That was the wrong tact."

Erebus hissed through his teeth, and despite being banged up, Anderson looked at him curiously. Apparently even sustaining bodily harm wasn't enough to dissuade him from wanting to study the xeno.

'Goes to show what a nutter he is.' George thought. Out loud he said "Perhaps Erebus and I should retire to my quarters. We should try to avoid any more altercations like this."

Meyers looked at him skeptically. "You mean leaving you alone with a xenomorph for an extended time frame? That could be dangerous."

George suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Comrade corporal, I've been alone with him for 48 hours. If he was going to do something to me, he would have done it already." He sighed. "I trust him. I really do. He's a good person."

The corporal also sighed, exhaustion visibly overtaking him and pushing down any protests. "Fine. If you trust him, so do I. Take George to his quarters, then take some time off to rest yourselves. We all need it." He instructed the other marines.

Barns and the female complied, but when they were halfway out the door with George, klaxons began to wail and the emergency lights went red and started flashing. Through the crackling intercom, a voice said "Enemy vessel sighted. All crew report to battle stations."

Erebus immediately dropped into a combat-ready stance and hissed loudly, baring his teeth.

"Shit, what is it now?" Meyers swore through his teeth. He pointed at the other marines "Your orders have changed. Take George to his quarters, then meet me on the bridge." He stormed out of the room.

"What's going on?" Erebus demanded as the marines shuffled them out of the room and back to the lift.

"Another space ship, like this one, has been detected. But it's an enemy ship, so we'll have to fight it." Suddenly George remembered the transport docked with them. "Shit." He looked up at Barns, "What about the transport?"

Barns gritted his teeth. "I don't know. Depends on the situation."

Erebus looked between them worriedly "What depends on the situation?"

"This ship is very fast." George explained "Fast enough to outrun most other ships. But the transport is not fast. We might be able to escape the enemy, but the transport cannot. But every ship matters to the revolution; we don't really have the industrial capacity to build them in the numbers required to wage conventional war."

If Erebus could have blinked he probably would have. "What is 'industrial capacity'? What is 'war'? What is 'conventional'? How does that relate to 'war'? What does it mean to 'wage'?"

George looked up at Barns forlornly, "If he keeps it up like this we're going to have to divide into shifts to answer his questions."

They stepped into the lift and with a loud whir it began to ascend the shaft, stopping a few decks up. The grated steel doors slid open, and the group exited into a posh atrium. Or, it used to be a posh atrium. Where once there had been a smoking lounge there was now a makeshift break room, the sofas and recliners replaced by folding chairs and thin metal tables. The carpet, once thick and a rich red, was trodden and torn by countless studded boots, its color fading due to the abuse and neglect. The chandelier had been removed, and the gentle, candle-like light fixtures had been replaced with the harsh shine of military grade-incandescents. Where once the walls had held paintings and works of art, now were plastered propaganda posters and news bulletins. At the very top of the atrium there used to be a grand window gazing out into space. Now the hardened glass was gone, replaced by reinforced steel plating.

But even here, the klaxon wailed and the lights flashed. No matter what she had used to be, the Hermes was a warship now.

Erebus stopped dead as he stepped out of the lift, seemingly in awe of the grand room before him.

"Woah…" He breathed.

"Yeah, fancy. Now come on." George prompted as the other marines carried him out of the lift. The xenomorph remained silent as they crossed to the grand staircase on the far side of the room, probably taking in the sights, although since he didn't move his head it was hard to tell.

George was carried up the stairs, then down a hallway to the right. At the third door on the right, they stopped. The female marine opened it and they maneuvered George through on his stretcher.

Inside was a room in much the same condition to the atrium; once rich carpet now trodden and worn, art removed to be replaced with a few choice posters and newspaper clippings, the posh furnishings removed except for a four-poster bed against one wall. The rest of the room had a simple desk, folding chair, and bookshelf for furnishings. A brass switchboard was mounted into one wall, previously for calling servants, now for communicating with different parts of the ship, hastily scrawled notes pasted under each button.

Barns and the female set the stretcher down, then lifted George up by his shoulders and knees and set him on the bed.

"If you need anything, just call." Barns indicated the switchboard. "Speedy recovery comrade!"

He and the female marine folded up the stretcher and jogged out with it, shutting the door behind them. George was left alone with Erebus.

The xenomorph slowly walked around the room, investigating everything he saw.

As he did this, George shucked off his coat, shirt, and pants, leaving just his underwear on, and drew the covers and blankets up over himself. He was absolutely wiped out. Despite the possible impending battle, he just wanted some sleep.

Erebus though seemed to be at the height of his energy. He seemed fascinated by every small thing, even crawling up the wall to look at the switchboard from a different angle. "What is this thing?" He asked, looking up at George expectantly.

"Switchboard." The human mumbled, eyes closed. He was already half asleep.

"What does it do?"

George did not immediately respond. On one hand he admired the curiosity of his companion. On the other, he didn't really feel like explaining electronic communications to him just now. "I'll explain later." He finally said, hoping the xeno would take a hint.

If he did, it didn't stop him. "Are you tired?" Erebus asked, even sounding slightly incredulous.

"Ding-ding-ding." The human muttered.

"I don't know what that means."

"Means 'yes'."

"Oh."

There was silence for a few seconds, lending George some hope that the xeno had finally shut up, but then the alien started talking again, this time closer, just off to the human's left. The marine surmised that he had walked over to him in the intervening silence, the carpet and the creature's natural silence masking his movement.

"What are you lying on?"

"It's a bed. It's where humans sleep."

Silence. Then: "Can I join you? In the bed?"

George opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at Erebus.

He was standing at the bedside, hands clasped in front of him earnestly, looking down at the human with a neutral expression.

The marine took a moment to consider his situation. In front of him stood a xenomorph. His natural enemy, an alien, and a threat to all non-xenomorph life everywhere; talking to him as a friend. He looked upon the great, black creature, with his teeth and claws and tail, dorsal lobes sprouting from his back and elongated head resting in his shoulders. And he wasn't afraid in the slightest.

Erebus was his friend. A person. Trusted and trusting.

George smiled warmly. Scooting over a little, he lifted up the covers and said "Hop in!"

Erebus grinned, a primal expression of countless razor-sharp teeth, and one that didn't faze the marine at all. He slid into the bed with George, who drew the covers up around them both. Instinctively, due to the protrusions from his back, Erebus lay on his side facing the him, though neither minded this.

The xeno squirmed slightly, running his hands along the blankets and pressing his body against the bed experimentally. "It's so soft and warm." He marveled.

"Just like you." George teased, thinking back to the night he had spent curled up with Erebus on their little nest of cushions.

Erebus made his amused chuffing noise and grinned playfully, also remembering that night. "Yeah, just like me. Wanna do that again?"

"Sure." George flipped onto his other side and scooted backward until he was once again spooning with the xeno. He dragged the pillow over to them and lifted up Erebus' head so he could slide it under them.

Setting his head back down on the soft fluffy thing, Erebus purred happily.

George was also pretty happy with his situation. With most of his clothes off, a lot more of his skin was in contact with the xenomorph's. His companion's flesh had a texture not unlike rubber, but smoother and softer, less sticky. His friend's skin was once again a pleasant lukewarm temperature, and he could feel himself drifting off.

This was where he belonged. In an embrace with someone he cared about, and who cared about him. Here, he could just take a minute and forget about the war, the death, the fear, the pain. It was just him and the one he… loved?

George took a moment to consider this. It was really too early in their relationship to call what they had love, but somehow it seemed vaguely appropriate, almost like he and Erebus had been made for each other. They seemed to have so much in common: curiosity, intelligence, even general sexuality, though it seemed to George that Erebus was more bisexual, whereas he himself was exclusively homosexual.

It occurred to the marine that if Erebus was a human, they would be banging and dating already. So… what was stopping them? Species?

'Why does that matter?' A little voice asked from the back of his head, 'What relevance does species have? You're not religious, you're not married, you're not even much of a philosopher. Why not just mate with him?'

'Because it's icky.' George shot back.

'How?' The voice demanded.

'Because he is an entirely separate species!'

'But why does that matter? He's sapient, he's expressed both emotional and sexual interest in you, he's nice, his interests are similar to yours, and he's got a dick. He's everything you've ever wanted in a partner. Species is arbitrary.' The voice stated matter-of-factly.

George mulled this over silently. As a man of science, he couldn't really deny what the voice was saying on a literal level. Philosophers could hem and haw all they wanted, but so far as observable reality went, the voice in his head carried the field.

It being his way, George calmly began reorganizing his worldview around this new reality. He had been raised to treat all humans as equals, no matter their gender, sexuality, or ethnicity. Following the logic of this to its conclusion, when presented with a xenomorph that displayed an overwhelming degree of human characteristics, he had treated him as an equal and as a person. Now it was time to complete that equality, and make him equal in his mind.

"Erebus?" George whispered, gathering his courage. It had happened countless times before of course, and it was supremely unlikely this time, but fear of rejection still gnawed at the marine's heart.

"Yeah George?" Now Erebus sounded tired too. Apparently being in a comfy bed and snuggling with his friend had put him in a drowsy mood.

"Can we talk?"

"About what?"

George took a deep breath. Moment of truth. "I've been considering your interest and my outlook, and I've decided-"

"Private Canner!" Meyers shouted.

George sat bolt upright and looked at the door, panicked. It was closed.

"Private Canner!?" Meyers called again.

The marine followed the voice back to the switchboard. Thank goodness, no one had walked in on them.

George quickly clambered out of bed and pressed the button that had "Bridge" written on the sticky note underneath it.

"What is it comrade corporal?"

"Report to the bridge ASAP."

"Yes comrade corporal!"

Meyers rang off, and George turned to look at Erebus sadly "No more bed for us." He threw on his clothes as the xenomorph climbed out.

"But it's so comfy!" The creature protested.

"Corporal's orders." George said evenly, although on the inside his body was protesting just as vehemently as the xeno was. He was exhausted, but orders were orders.

Shaking his tail free from the sheets, Erebus asked "What's the bridge? And where is it?"

"It's… follow me, I'll explain on the way." George opened the door and he and Erebus began walking to the elevator, the marine limping noticeably as his ankle smarted with each step.

"Stop. Let me carry you." Erebus said, seeing this.

"Uh…" On one hand, George rather liked being carried by the xenomorph. On the other, it would be humiliating to be seen like that by a member of the crew. Plus, they didn't much like Erebus, and the marine was worried that they would be offended if he started openly showing affection for the creature right off the bat.

He looked up and down the hall. Deserted.

"Ok, I guess. But put me down if you see or hear someone coming." George warned.

"Ok." Erebus picked him up and cradled him gently in his long, spindly arms. "So what's a bridge?"

"On a space ship, the bridge is the part where the ship is controlled from. The bridge crew; the humans on the bridge, send instructions to humans in other parts of the ship."

"Through the switchboards." Erebus guessed.

"Yeah. That's how we make the ship move and fight."

"Fight?"

"Some ships can fight other ships. Some can't." George said simply.

"Fight how?"

"It's…" George trailed off. "Complicated. Can we talk about it later?"

"Ok." The xeno sounded disappointed

They walked the rest of the way to the lift in silence, and as they rode it up, George asked Erebus to set him down on his feet so he could walk the rest of the way.

"Why?" The xeno asked, although he did as he was told.

"Because," George winced as he had to put weight on his bad ankle "It's embarrassing to be seen being carried by you. I don't have anything against you, but it would make other people give me weird looks if they saw it."

"Oh." Erebus was apparently smart enough to know why, and so didn't comment further.

The doors opened and they walked the roughly hundred meters to the front of the craft. A guard stood next to the door, staring at the xenomorph as they approached. George noticed her nervously re-adjusting her grip on the rifle she was holding.

They stopped in front of the door and waited for several seconds, before George looked at the guard expectantly and cleared his throat, rousing the woman from her fixation on the alien.

She hurriedly punched in a code on the keypad next to the door, screwing it up the first time because she glanced up at Erebus again and hit the wrong key. She tried again, got it right, and the door whooshed open.

The bridge was rather small, a mere dozen alcoves with monitors buzzing away, and a big, fancy chair looking out the front window, which was reinforced with steel beams every meter or so. In that chair sat Meyers, gazing down at the monitor in front of him with a serious expression. Barns stood beside him, also looking at the monitor.

Several technicians and officers were also on the bridge, talking quickly, typing away in front of monitors, or looking out the port side windows. They all stopped and fell silent when George and Erebus walked in, turning their heads to stare at them.

George was glad he had gotten Erebus to set him down on the lift; he would have died of humiliation if he had walked in on this while being carried like a child. As it was, he still felt hot with embarrassment at the sudden attention.

The bridge crew knew better than to loiter while Meyers was on deck though, so they went back to their previous occupations within a few seconds, although to George they felt like years.

"Ah, you're here. Good." The corporal said, standing up and walking to them.

Barns smiled and waved at the pair, then sat down where Meyers had been and started typing something out on the computer.

"What's the situation, comrade corporal?" George asked.

"Corporate frigate. Roughly twice our length with three times the firepower and heavier dedicated armour. It dropped out of FTL while we were in the infirmary and has been closing rapidly. I had the transport transfer Calegary to us for potential use as a bargaining chip, then detach and make a dash for it. One they're out of the planet's gravity well they'll be able to jump to FTL. We're staying behind to buy time."

"Not to sound selfish, comrade corporal, but why are they running and not us? We have more powerful engines, and I daresay that a warship like ours is more valuable and harder to replace than a transport."

"That's true. But on a larger scale, we're fighting an enemy that is much larger, better funded, and better supplied than we are George. We can't play this game conservatively; we have to play to win. Because if we don't win, we'll lose. There is no middle ground nor room for error. So I decided to let the transport get away, and we'll stay and defeat the enemy. Frankly, it's all or nothing."

"Defeat them how? They outclass us in every regard."

Here Meyers smiled, almost menacingly. "We'll defeat them because I have a pair of aces up my sleeve."

"What-"

"He means us." Erebus interrupted. "I don't know what aces are, but I know what a pair is."

The bridge crew stopped what they were doing to stare at the xenomorph again, but were corrected by a hard glance from Meyers.

George balked. He had to physically resist the urge to ask the corporal if he had lost his mind; this might have been a revolution, but mouthing off to an officer would never fly. He struggled to construct a query that wouldn't sound disrespectful.

"How- how is that even feasible?" The medic stuttered. "I mean, we would have to get over onto their ship, my ankle is not even close to being passable for combat, and we'd be outnumbered a hundred to one. Even if we hopped in a shuttle and got there without being shot out of the sky, they'd just blow us away the second the airlock opened."

"It's feasible because their commanding officer is a narcissistic idiot with delusions of grandeur. He wants me to personally come over to his ship to discuss terms of surrender. But he doesn't want a flag of truce, so he can blow us out of the sky anytime he wants, or at least threaten to. He sent me a video message over the comms saying as much. But here's the clincher; I didn't send him a video back. I just had Wallace send him a message saying that I accepted, and that I would need about half an hour to prepare my formal wear. And like the corporate narc that he is, he took the bait. So now he's expecting a man in an officer's uniform to come on board. But he doesn't know anything about the looks or mannerisms of the man wearing that uniform."

George's commanding officer was, by now, grinning like a loon from ear to ear. His tone had become one of maniacal joy as he spoke.

He was definitely a grade-A schemer, George decided. Clearing his throat, the private asked "But comrade, what do Erebus and I have to do with all this?"

"Simple. You will go in my place to meet with the enemy commander. That fool let it slip that their ship was the same general design as ours, which means that there will be a separate engine section. You'll both go over there in a shuttle, and when you arrive George will go to meet with the enemy commander to stall for time while Erebus remains hidden in the shuttle craft. When the coast is clear, Erebus will take an explosive device to the engine section and use it to blast open an emergency reactor valve, which will take a while to diagnose and override, and even longer to get the fusion reaction going again. This gives us a window to attack them. I've chosen you and Erebus specifically for this assignment because you two seem to work well together, and because Erebus's speed and agility will come in handy for dodging guards and moving quickly towards his target."

"So you're asking us to go on a suicide mission." George stated flatly, crossing his arms.

"Not necessarily. The weakest point in the other ship's armour is the beam connecting the engine section to the main section. It might take a few minutes of sustained fire, but at close range and without any interfering fire from our enemy, our ship's guns are powerful enough to punch through and crack the beam in half, which will disable them permanently. After that they'll have to surrender or we'll be able to annihilate them at our leisure. We'll be able to detect the reactor venting from here, and once we do, we'll give you a fifteen minute window to organize their surrender to us. If they have failed to surrender in that time, then we sever the beam. Once we do that we'll give you another ten minutes. Then we'll begin systematically blowing them apart piece by piece."

"So it's only suicide if we fail. How reassuring." George looked up at Erebus "Tell Meyers that this is insane. You can't possibly-"

"When do we start?" The xeno demanded excitedly, grinning in much the same fashion as Meyers.

George grabbed his friend's arm and looked at Meyers apologetically "May we have a moment?"

The corporal rolled his eyes, but motioned for them to go.

George stalked over to the door, the point on the bridge farthest from anyone else, borderline dragging Erebus along behind him. When they got there, he turned to face the xeno and hissed "Are you crazy?! You can't seriously want to go through with this!"

"Why not?" Erebus asked earnestly.

"Because it's suicidal!"

The xenomorph stared at him blankly.

George had to take a moment to marvel at how intuitively he could read the xeno's expression purely by the position of the lower face; his mouth and lips; since the creature had no eyes or eyebrows, which were normally the biggest clue to how someone was feeling or what they were thinking.

He took a breath and explained. "Suicide is when someone kills themselves. To do something suicidal is to do something that will probably kill you."

Erebus was unfazed. "I still want to do what Meyers suggested."

"Why?"

Now it was Erebus's turn to be annoyed. He straightened up to his full height and crossed his arms "I'm not going back into a cage, George. And if we get captured here, that's where Weyland-Yutani will put me. I have not come this far just to lose everything. I'd rather die, and if I do, then so be it. At least I'll die free."

George sighed heavily, staring down at the floor. "Ok." He said quietly. "I can't argue with that. Let's do it."

Returning to Meyers, George said "Fine. What do we need to do?"

***

George shifted uncomfortably in the baggy dress uniform Meyers had given him to wear. Sweat made gripping the controls difficult, although he could have sworn his hands were ice cold.

"So this is a smaller ship that comes out of the big ship?" Erebus asked, amazed.

George glanced over his shoulder to look at him. The xenomorph was crawling up on the wall and looking out the porthole at the great empty void of space outside. He was wearing a bandolier of assault rifle magazines, and in fact had one strapped to his back, nestled between his dorsal lobes. Around his other shoulder was the strap of a satchel filled with high explosives.

"Yeah. It's called a 'shuttle'." George explained, watching nervously as Erebus pressed his head against the window. "It can't go as far or as fast as the larger ships. Hey, could you please move your head away from there?"

"It's very dark outside." Erebus noted, backing his dome away from the window a bit. "What's out there?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Erebus looked up at the human opposite him "What does that mean?"

"There's nothing out there. No air, no dirt, no water, nothing. It's all empty; that's why it's called 'space'."

"Oh. Why is there air and dirt and water on the planet and not out here?"

"Because of gravity."

"What's that?"

"Can we talk about it later? I need to focus on flying the shuttle." George turned his head back forward.

"We might not be alive later." Erebus murmured quietly.

George didn't respond, and the xenomorph went quiet.

The medic went over the events that had led him here in his mind, quietly reliving the past 30 minutes of his life.

After he and Erebus had agreed to go along with the plan, Meyers had (with great difficulty) convinced the xeno and medic to part ways for a while so that they could prepare separately, with Erebus accompanying Barns to the armory to get kitted out and taught how to use properly automatic weapons, and the corporal showing George the message that the enemy commander had sent them, then taking George to his quarters so that he could get fitted into his officer's uniform.

They had made a few modifications to the seams, but hadn't had time to properly resize it, so it was still quite loose and sagged noticeably off George's shoulders. Luckily the medic had found the perfect solution to this when inspecting himself in the mirror; just claim that he had lost weight due to stress and over-work. He certainly looked the part. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, which were dull from exhaustion.

Back in the present the enemy vessel slowly loomed out of the darkness, floodlights flickering on to illuminate the exterior for the incoming shuttle.

George heard scampering behind him, then the xeno was by his side, staring out the front viewport.

"Wow." He said simply. "Is that what our ship looks like?"

"Yeah, more or less. This one is bigger."

"What's that?" Erebus pointed at the long beam connecting the forward section with the rear.

"That's the beam. It connects he front of the ship to the back of the ship. It's the thing that the Hermes will cut in half."

"Why are they separate?" The xeno asked, craning his neck to try and get a better view.

"The back part of the ship is where the engines are. The engines are what makes the ship move. The engines are powered by a fusion reactor-"

"The thing with the valves I'm going to blow up. Barns told me all about it."

"Yeah, that. The reactor makes a lot of radiation. Radiation is… complicated. Essentially it's a bunch of really tiny particles that are moving really fast and can burn you. You can't see it, but if there's enough radiation then you can feel it. The reactor makes so much radiation that it's safer for the people in the ship to just put the engines and reactor in a separate section, cover it in armour, and then put some space between it and the rest of the ship."

"I'm going to the part of the ship where the radiation is. Will it hurt me?"

"No. Xenomorphs have special skin that is tough for radiation to get through. You can also survive out in space, at least for a little while."

"Cool!"

They were coming in around the side of the ship now, preparing to dock in one of the small hangers.

"You know the plan, right?" George asked nervously. It wasn't so much for the xeno's benefit but for his own. He needed reassurance that Erebus knew his part of this crazy scheme and could carry it through. Meyer's last words before his departure floated through his mind "We're counting on you George."

"Yeah, I know what to do. When we land, I will hide there-" The alien pointed at an empty compartment just about the airlock, which was normally used for storing extra oxygen canisters, "-and when no one is around I'll sneak out and go to the engine section and blow up the valve."

"And you remember how to get there, find the right valve, and set the charge?"

"Yep. I can see it perfectly in my head. The pipe is silver with red stripes, and I put the explosives on the valve where it meets the base of the reactor."

The shuttle was pulling into the landing bay now, landing gear extending.

"Do you have any questions?"

"What's a narc?"

This might have been a surprising thing to say if Erebus hadn't been asking questions constantly from the get-go.

"I meant do you have any questions related to the mission."

"No. What's a narc?" Erebus asked again.

"Well a long time ago it was used to refer to a narcotics officer, but now it's slang that means someone is a narcissist." George explained as the craft touched down. He pushed a few buttons and depowered the thrusters.

"What's a narcissist?"

"Ok, last answer till we see each other again." George smiled, turning around in his chair to face him companion, silently hoping that they would. "A narcissist is someone that thinks very highly of themselves, but is in fact stupid or incompetent."

"Ok." The xenomorph gracefully leaped up into the compartment, tucking himself inside and coiling his tail around his torso to save space.

He looked almost cute in there, George thought, although if any of the crew found him the resulting scene would probably be a lot less cute.

"Here." George went and stood underneath Erebus' compartment, holding up his watch. The xeno was wearing a similar one, strapped as close as possible to his spindly wrist, and together they synchronized their watches with the 15 minute countdown that would begin when the xeno blew his charges. All they would have to do was push the start buttons.

"You remember how the numbers work, right?"

"Yes. And their order, and how many numbers are in a minute."

"Good."

Looking at the ramp in front of him, George tried to psych himself up for the performance ahead. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he was breathing heavily. He tried to imagine what a commanding officer would do, but couldn't manage it. His breathing got heavier as he struggled to even think of what he was going to say to the guards who would come and escort him to the commanding officer.

"Hey." Something poked him in the back of his head.

Tilting his head up, George saw Erebus looking down at him from his alcove, smiling. He reached a hand out, and George instinctively brought his up to meet it, his fingers intertwining with the xenomorph's own as they held hands.

"You're gonna do great. This is gonna work." Erebus said reassuringly. "Stay calm." He reluctantly pulled his hand away from George's and scooted back further into the compartment. Smiling down at the medic one last time, he pulled the panel shut, concealing himself inside.

George looked back down and straight ahead. He took a deep breath. 'I can do this.'

The control board next to the ramp beeped twice, and a light turned green. The hanger was pressurized.

Taking another deep breath, George flipped up the plastic cover over a large red button and pushed it, unsealing the ramp and lowering it to the hangar floor. He picked the ceremonial cane Meyers had given him, an old memento that had been given to the Corporal when he graduated from Military Academy, top of his class. Limping down the ramp, he looked around the hangar. It was rather small, perhaps just twice the width of the shuttle itself, with some room to spare for fuel canisters and other miscellaneous items.

The entryway door hissed, then slid open, as a pair of marines and an officer strode in.

They met in the middle, George limping over to greet them. He didn't smile, just wordlessly saluted with a commanding scowl, like he had seen Meyers do dozens of times with people he either didn't like or thought little of.

The officer returned his salute snappily. "Corporal Meyers, I presume?"

George nodded once, his scowl resolving into a simple, tight-lipped frown. "Correct."

"Follow me, sir." As they left the room, George resisted the urge to look back as the shuttle. He hoped they made it through this. He wanted to tell Erebus how he felt about him.

The officer led them through the ship at a brisk pace, which George was hard pressed to keep up with his limp. The metal flooring clanged hollowly under his feet. He kept his eyes peeled for anything useful though, just like he'd been taught in boot camp.

At the time, he'd thought that noticing subtle details about his enemy would be difficult, but now they seemed to jump out at him. On two separate occasions they passed men doing repairs right out in the open, one hurriedly adjusting the wires inside an electrical panel, and the other standing on a ladder, waist deep inside a ceiling vent.

'The ship isn't full prepared for battle.' George realized, as they passed another man who was just standing around looking confused and doing nothing.

The officer leading them seemed to know this too, as he pointedly ignored everyone they passed, as though pretending they didn't exist would somehow make them invisible to George.

Some surfaces, even high voltage electrical panels, which should have been kept immaculate, were covered in a fine layer of dust, as though they hadn't been properly cleaned in some time.

All of this put together just screamed to George of a ship whose crew was inexperienced, or more likely, a commander who was grossly incompetent.

They reached a lift and began to ascend, rising over a dozen decks before stopping and once again stepping out into a corridor.

George walked a short ways more, then arrived at a door marked "Captain's Quarters".

The way the men escorting him looked at the door with expressions of utter contempt and loathing told the disguised medic all he needed to know about their opinions of the commanding officer.

The officer stepped forward and rapped his knuckles against it loudly.

"Come in."

The officer opened the door and motioned for George to step inside.

The room George found himself in was a bizarre reversal of the Hermes. Instead of being a posh space made to look spartan, it was a spartan place made to look posh.

The cold steel walls were adorned with paintings and prints, the floor was covered in an oriental rug that looked to have been re-colorized and upholstered several times in its life due to wear and tear. An engraved oaken writing desk was stuffed into a corner, the typewriter sitting on it covered in dust as though unused for weeks, and in the middle of it all, barely fitting in the cramped space between the desk and the bed, was a table and pair of gaudy white leather armchairs.

Sitting in the arm chair opposite the door was the enemy commander.

He was tall and blonde, with blue eyes and a chiseled chin that could cut diamond. His hair was combed back in a fashion so meticulous that is must have been managed hair by hair with surgical tweezers. He was sitting leaning forward, elbows resting on the desk, fingers steepled in front of him. His expression was that of practiced patience and curiosity that wasn't genuine in the slightest. A cigarette smoldered in an ash tray on the table, smoke still wisping from the man's lips.

He was wearing the uniform of a Colonial Marine captain, all tidy and starched to hell. A WY pin was clipped prominently to his tie, showing where his true loyalties lay despite the flag of the United States of America being patched on the uniform's shoulder. His name was embroidered on another patch just above his heart: James T. Birknow.

In short, he looked like a Nazi prick.

"Ah, Corporal Meyers, welcome!" The man said, rising to his feet with a smile and stretching his arm out as if to shake his new acquaintance's hand.

George already disliked this man on a number of levels. First and foremost, as a revolutionary, the medic despised the practiced mannerisms and oily smoothness of man in front of him. His red revolutionary heart beat to the tune of spontaneity and originality, and this man grated against it violently. And that wasn't even mentioning his obvious corporate affiliations.

George also despised him as a solider. Just a single glance at this man showed quite clearly that he had never been in combat, nor even to military school. And yet here he was commanding a ship when even his lowliest subordinates were infinitely more suited to it than he was. How dare he wear that uniform; what kind of audacity did it take to put on the markings of an officer, while having never done a lick to earn them?

George found himself loathing the creature which stood before him, in all his manicured and starched aristocratic airs. This was a man to be judged in the harshest light, a man to sneer in the general direction of, a man not worth the time it would take to spit at, a man to look down one's nose at, and to kick in the balls if the opportunity so arose.

A man who, unfortunately, had a whole bunch of really big guns pointed at George's ship.

Instead of doing the many dozens of things to this man that he really deserved, the marine settled for making him look silly and saluted like a real soldier instead of shaking hands.

Birknow stood with his arm extended for several awkward seconds before lowering it, his smile faltering as he did. "Welcome aboard the Costaguana, Corporal Meyers." He said matter-of-factly, sitting back down and gesturing for George to do the same. "Oh, and, you're dismissed. Guard the door." He waved idly at the officer, who promptly closed the door.

George didn't hesitate to limp over to the arm chair and sit down in it. He didn't want to appear suspicious, after all, and these negotiations had to work, at least for a while, plus he really was quite exhausted from the trek here. He silently hoped that Erebus was doing alright.

***

Erebus was, in fact, doing even better than alright.

After George had left, he had waited for about a minute until the hangar was totally quiet except for the hum of electricity and the distant rumble of machines, then he had climbed out of the compartment and exited the craft down the ramp.

Quietly crawling along the underside of the shuttle to conceal himself, the xenomorph looked around to make sure that no one was in the hangar with him.

No one was.

With the area secure, he silently crawled forward until he reached the front of the shuttle, hands and feet adhering tightly to the cold metal, and peered up at the walls and ceiling. There, nestled snuggly in the corner of two walls and the ceiling, was a large metal grate.

Switching his vision to thermal, Erebus saw distortions in the air as a cold draft wafted out of the grate. It was the entrance to a ventilation duct.

Grinning, the xeno switched his vision back to normal and then scuttled across the hangar floor and up the wall to the vent.

Gripping the slats, Erebus pulled experimentally, testing the strength of the metal. While most of the vents on the base had been solid and sturdy, made from the same heavy grey metal as the table he had been strapped to and tormented on, this one was considerably softer, the silvery metal buckling quickly under sustained pressure.

He pulled the vent open, just enough to squeeze through, and squirmed inside. Taking a deep breath, he drew the air over his long forked tongue, then stopped. He smelled something. A human. A male human.

Not George, Erebus would have recognized his familiar happy-sweet scent anywhere, but definitely another male human.

The xenomorph flicked his tongue out, tasting the air again. Male human, and now the salty tang of sweat, with an undercurrent of anxiousness.

He looked around again, making sure he hadn't been spotted.

There was still no one there.

Good, that meant the anxiousness wasn't be caused by him. So then what was causing it?

Erebus began scuttling deeper into the shaft, moving at a sprinter's pace, yet silent as a ghost. Normally he could tell the proximity of prey by the strength of their scent, but in the confines of the vent with nowhere to go, the scent was always the same intensity. This meant that the alien had to carefully peer around each corner before continuing on, so as to not run right into the human and give away the element of surprise.

There were no branches in this duct, just several twists and turns as it wound between bulkheads. This labyrinth-like aspect made traversing it take that much more time, and Erebus began to grow concerned. Usually traveling by duct saved time, since they tended to follow a regular pattern and branched out from a few central points.

That was on the base though. The spaceships were totally different.

Erebus internally reprimanded himself for being so thoughtless. He should have realized that things would be different in a different hunting space.

After what seemed like an eternity of increasingly worried scuttling, he peered around a corner and saw him.

The male human had his head and torso up inside the vent, and was doing something with an electrical panel mounted into the wall of the shaft.

Erebus watched him work quietly, leering around the corner at him from about six meters away.

He observed that the human was in a hurry, his movements careless and his attention focused solely on the box in front of him. The male twice set down a tool, then reached for it again and had to search around with his hands, not remembering where he had put it, until he was forced to turn away from the panel to find what he was looking for. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings.

The portion of the shaft leading to the human was long and straight, providing no cover, but it was also very dark, perfect for the alien's black skin to blend in with.

With precision and care honed not by skill but by pure instinct, Erebus placed one hand forward, then the other, slowly and carefully crawling down the vent towards the unsuspecting human, his prey too focused on his work to notice.

Erebus knew that this was a stop-gap tactic. Even the most preoccupied humans weren't completely blind, and it was inevitable that he would be noticed. Still, he was proud to have made it a full four meters before being detected.

It was subtle at first. The human reached for a tool again, but this time scrabbled for it longer than usual, taking a full ten seconds, before picking up the largest and heaviest wrench in reach. This time though, he didn't turn away from his work to look for it. In fact his gaze stayed unnaturally locked on the panel in front of him.

The alien's acute vision allowed him to see the hairs standing straight on the back of the man's neck, the flesh puckering up into goosebumps.

He knew something was there, most likely had seen movement out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't appear to know exactly what it was.

The fingers curled around the wrench's handle tightly, knuckles turning white. A new pair of smells became prominent in the airstream: fear and adrenaline.

Erebus tensed his muscles. Odd as it sounded, he actually wanted the human to turn and face him. There were two reasons for this. The first was purely practical: he needed the man's mouth to be facing him so that he could force his hand into it and gag him so he couldn't scream.

The second was more sadistic: he wanted the man to see him. To see him and be afraid. He wanted to do this to everyone wearing that hated Weyland-Yutani patch on their shoulder. To lord his power over them just like they had done to him, to make them suffer, and then kill them.

The man finally moved, spinning around as fast as he could on the ladder he standing on and raising the spanner over the opposite shoulder, ready to strike out at whatever was hiding in the darkness.

Except the thing in the darkness struck first.

Tensing his legs, Erebus jumped at the man with all his strength, covering the distance between the two in just a fraction of a second.

Just as he had predicted, the man opened his mouth to scream, and in response the alien jammed his hand into it, cutting off the scream into a panicked gurgle.

Before his victim had time to swing his makeshift weapon, Erebus grabbed his wrist and snapped it, causing the man to let out a muffled shriek of pain and drop the wrench.

By this time the mechanic was desperately trying to drop back down through the open grate, but it was far too late. Erebus had him now, and he wasn't letting go. The man's legs flailed wildly, knocking over his ladder and sending it crashing to the floor with a loud clang. Eyes wide with panic, he tried to scream around the alien's hand, his muffled cries echoing down the shaft.

With little effort, the xenomorph pulled the man fully into the dark tunnel, dragging him backward several meters, before pinning him to the ground and looming over him.

They stared each other in the face, the man whimpering in fear, and the xenomorph grinning in smug triumph. The he opened his mouth wide, baring long sharp teeth and exposing his inner jaws.

The man began one last scream of pure terror, before the jaws descended and punched through his skull.

So yes, by the time that George thought of him, Erebus was indeed doing alright. Just a few turns afterwards he had found a central junction, and was now making good time toward the stern of the ship, plus he had snack. He swallowed the last of the human's belly-flesh at the bottom of an elevator shaft, licking his fingers to savor the lingering taste of the warm, yummy blood.

He attempted to jump to the cables hanging in the center of the shaft, but the grease prevented him from getting a good grip, and he slid right off and fell flat on his rump. Wiping his hands on a beam to get some of the slippery substance off, Erebus tried again, except with the wall this time. He stuck fast, and quickly scuttled up the shaft to deck 10.

There wasn't a vent to hide in here, which made the xeno nervous, but he didn't really have a choice. Reaching over the ledge, he pulled himself up so that he was standing on it, then worked his fingers in between the doors and pulled them apart a smidge until he could climb through into the hallway beyond. They rolled shut behind him again with a quiet click. From here it was a straight shot to the beam connecting the two ship sections, and a few dozen meters later, Erebus was there.

The beam was long, and he had been told by Barns that the fastest way to get across was on the transit car. He was in a room, which Barns had called a "Transit Terminal", with various boxes and coils of wires stacked in the corners. Scanning the bulkhead in front of him, a solid wall of metal with an airlock built into it, Erebus searched for the green "Call" button. It was relatively easy to find, since "Call" was one of the few written words he knew at this point. He pressed it and then retreated behind a little metal box on wheels to try and hide while the machinery that moved the car whirred to life.

He was silently thankful that it worked, since Barns had warned him that it might not have. Things were often shut down for security purposes on military vessels, he had been told, and if the tram didn't work he'd have to manually release the airlock and run through the tunnel to the rear section.

Erebus hadn't understood most of the context of what he was being told, but he did get the basic concept: mechanical whirring was good, it meant the car was coming.

Then something occurred to him. If the car was meant to transport humans, and it went where the humans went, and all the humans were in the front part of the ship, then why was the tram coming to him from the rear? It seemed rather inefficient… unless there were some humans back there. Probably fixing something like the man he had encountered.

Erebus growled softly. Nothing was ever simple with humans. No matter, he'd deal with them just like he had dealt with the one back in the ducts. And then he'd do his job and blow up the valve thing.

Erebus smiled softly. And then he'd go get George, and they could go back to their ship and be in the bed together some more. That was fun. And relaxing.

The tram arrived and the doors whooshed open with a hiss of compressed air.

The xeno crawled inside and the doors shut behind him, the vehicle whirring into motion once again.

***

"Ah, good." Birknow said as the steward set the tea set down on the table between him and George.

George, for his part, found this to be just as unmilitaristic as the rest of Birknow's oddities. It was largely porcelain and gold, totally unsuited for martial purposes. And yet here it was on a warship in the outer rim colonies. It almost made him want to stick his tongue out in disgust.

Almost, because from one of the pots wafted a scent that had become much too rare to ever pass up: Coffee.

Feeling ashamed, but unable to help himself, the disguised medic eyed the pot hungrily.

"Feel free to treat yourself, of course." Birknow said, letting a hint of gloating slide into his voice as he picked up a cup of tea and sipped it daintily. "Now, where were we? Exact surrender terms?"

"Captain?" A voice buzzed from the intercom panel above the bed. George noted it had a little video monitor mounted in it. Probably for an interactive video call. Newer technology than was available to the revolution.

Birknow looked at George regretfully. "My apologies, may I…?"

"Of course." George said evenly. He reached for the coffee pot as the enemy commander stood and stalked over to the panel.

"I thought I told you not to interrupt us." Birknow hissed into the intercom, sounding to George very much like a child who's playtime had just been cut short and was on the verge of throwing a tantrum.

"Sir," the man on the other end replied evenly, though his voice contained a steely edge to it that was only slightly tempered with practiced patience, "one of the repair men on the lower decks has gone missing. We found his ladder tipped over on the floor, but he's nowhere nearby."

The medic poured himself a cup of the warm black liquid and, not caring for such luxuries as sugar and cream, which were too rare to find regularly in the outer rim, lifted the cup to his lips and took an experimental sip. The flavor was so strong it made him shiver. Hearty, rich, and bitter, it was superb in every way. Even the aftertaste was exquisite.

"Listen to me, that is not my problem. I don't care how you deal with it, just do what you have to, and don't dare disturb me again, do you understand?" Birknow murmured angrily.

"Yes sir." The voice on the other end muttered. His contempt wasn't even really concealed at this point, but Birknow either didn't care or was too conceited to notice.

George was splitting his attention between the conversation and the coffee. He passively wondered where it was from. It was too rich and well-defined to have been grown in some garden in the outer rim, and probably not even in the civilized colonies closer to Earth. If he had to guess, probably a private plantation in one of the Banana Republics of Central America. Maybe Honduras.

With that settled, Birknow rang off and rejoined George at the table.

The medic set down his coffee to speak. Deciding to buy some time for Erebus, George asked "So, where is this coffee from? It is most exquisite."

"Ah, I'm overjoyed that you find it pleasing. It's actually from a planation I own down in Honduras."

'I called it!' George thought triumphantly.

"It's fine stuff, isn't it?" Birknow continued, "I find it a bit strong myself, but when I need a kick to get myself moving in the morning, it can certainly do that." He laughed at this, and George laughed along, although he was thinking of giving the commander a good kicking himself.

'Later, later.' He consoled his conscience.

"But business is business, and it is truly inescapable, so back to it we must go. Now, Corporal Meyers, about the surrender terms…"

'Shoot, that didn't buy me much time. C'mon Erebus!'

***

Erebus adjusted the leather strap holding the assault rifle to his back. It was actually pretty comfortable, and he liked the way it felt. Smooth, shiny, and flexible. Not unlike his own skin, but slightly different; harder.

The tram ride had been uneventful, and he had left the vehicle behind quickly upon reaching his destination.

The passageways in this section were much darker than in front of the ship, much more tunnel-like and confined, which Erebus liked very much. It reminded him of his hive, the closest thing he could have called to a home, and thusly provided a modicum of comfort to him.

Unfortunately, like his hive, this part of the ship was also very maze-like, containing many twists and turns, with branching paths that sometimes doubled back on themselves. There were no vents to crawl through here either, the ones in the walls being much too small to squeeze into. So he was forced to use the same passages as the humans did.

Speaking of humans, he hadn't found any yet, but he could smell them around. The scent was faint, but definitely recent, so he had to be careful.

Following the few signs he could read, he made his way towards the reactor.

It took him longer than he would have liked, but eventually he did find it. Unfortunately, he also found the humans.

At this point Erebus's comfort level with English was not yet sufficient to where he routinely thought in words and not emotions and pictures, but at that moment he thought something along the lines of "Of course they would be here. Fuckers."

There were three of them, wearing bright yellow suits and standing around the reactor, working on various components.

The reactor's chamber was roughly 30 meters in diameter and generally cylindrical in shape. It was as tall from top to bottom as the ship was, so about 50 meters in total. The chamber was poorly lit except for the actual reactor and the service gangways, which had powerful spotlights shining down on them constantly.

The reactor itself was split into two vaguely funnel-shaped pieces which were roughly 20 meters wide at the base where they met the floor and ceiling of the chamber, and stayed that wide until they got close to meeting in the center of the chamber, at which point they narrowed considerably to just a few meters across. The gantries stretched in a wide circle around this point, around which was arrayed a few control panels. Bolts of electricity flashed between the two halves of the reactor violently, splitting the air with their deafening cracks. A steady rain of water fell from the ceiling, making the whole room look like it was inundated in an eternal lightning storm.

To Erebus, who lacked context for the purpose of any of this, it all just seemed very very weird. Had he possessed eyebrows he would have raised one questioningly.

He shrugged this off with the base explanation that humans and their creations were just strange by nature, and continued on his mission.

This actually looked like a good place to build a nest, when he really thought about it. Steady supply of water, low light, built near a thing that humans valued and so would have to be cautious when attacking. Yes… he could see himself building a very impressive hive here. It'd be different from the more conventional horizontal nest that he instinctively knew how to construct, but he could still do it.

He wondered if George would let him build a hive here when they were done. He doubted it. Humans really wouldn't like hives all that much. They were too full of things that killed them. Eggs, hungry drones, angry warriors. George would probably say no.

Shaking his head to clear it of these thoughts, Erebus focused on the task at hand. He needed to get past the humans without alerting them, and then put his explosive-thing on the valve-thing.

Currently he was in a room filled with flashing lights and more buttons than he could have counted, even if he knew how. Symbols he didn't understand flashed by at a dizzying pace on flickering monitors. A panel of thick glass separated the room from the reactor chamber, and provided a good top-down view of it.

Erebus was fascinated by it all. Everything in this room had to have a purpose, and that was mind-boggling to him. He wanted to learn about everything as fast as he could.

But for now he had a mission to complete.

On the far side of the room, he found a staircase which lead down a deck to an airlock that allowed entry to the reactor chamber.

Not worrying too much about alerting the humans to his presence, as even through the thick walls the deafening cracks of the lightning could still be heard, plus the light levels around here were low enough that he wouldn't be spotted opening the airlock, he entered the chamber and cycled through it. Just as he thought, the three humans in their funny yellow suits failed to notice him, and he scuttled over the railing to crawl upside down on the underside of the catwalks. He padded silently towards the reactor, carefully putting hand over hand and foot over foot. He wasn't afraid of heights, so looking down at the vast chasm below didn't bother him at all. He knew he wouldn't fall as long as he was careful.

The humans were preoccupied with their tasks, plus their vision was impaired by the strange suits that they were wearing, which surrounded their heads and only left a clear bit in front of their face to see through, so it wasn't difficult for Erebus to keep out of sight until he reached the reactor itself. Laying a hand on it, he found it warm and wet to the touch, probably from the water that was falling in a steady downpour from the ceiling. A gentle but noticeable thrumming vibrated out from the metal into his hand.

Transferring his grip from the underside of the catwalk to the reactor shell, Erebus scrawled head first downward into the darkness. His sight adjusted as the light grew lower, maintaining perfect vision even as the illumination dwindled into pure pitch darkness. Or at least it would be pitch darkness for a human. Erebus could still see just fine.

He reached the base of the reactor in good time, and began circling it, looking for the valve. His watch glowed faintly in the dark. Four minutes left.

Despite the hard limit on his time, Erebus stayed calm and composed. He knew that panicking wouldn't do any good. Best to keep his mind sharp and focused. Losing composure would just make the situation worse.

With three and a half minutes left, he found it. A thick silver pipe with red stripes and symbols on it he couldn't read. What he could read were the words "Emergency Reactor Content Evacuation" written in big red letters next to a large red ball valve.

Erebus grinned in triumph, showing his long crystalline teeth. Reaching for his satchel, he pulled out a large white lump with a sort of squishy texture.

Barns had told him this stuff was called C4, prompting Erebus to ask why it had such a weird name. Barns had rolled his eyes and promised to explain later.

The xeno pressed the malleable white explosive around the valve, bending it so it would stay in place. He then reached into his bag, pulled out a blasting cap, and stuck it into the putty-like substance. Feeling unsure, he put in another, and then one more. He had been given several in case he lost one, and by the end of it he had stuck them all into the squishy explosives.

There was just one more item in the rucksack: the detonator.

As new to this as Erebus was, he wasn't stupid. He had seen the humans back on the base use makeshift explosives to devastating effect, and this was the real thing he was handling here. He didn't dare mess with the detonator before it was time to actually set off his little surprise.

Barns had told him to try and go to the front section of the ship again before detonating the explosives just to be safe, but if he didn't have time just put as much space between him and the bomb as he could.

Snapping the rucksack closed again with the detonator safely inside, Erebus began the long climb back up to the airlock.

***

"So then the arrangements are made, and our negotiations completed." Birknow stood up from the table, as if to see the man he thought was Meyers out.

"I believe so, yes." George confirmed, although a quick glance at his watch told him that there was a full two minutes left before the bomb was slated to go off.

"And let me say, for what it's worth, that it was a pleasure having a fellow man of educated status aboard." The commander said, indicating the ceremonial cane that George had left leaning against his armchair."

"And it was a pleasure for me was well." George replied, although secretly he thought that masturbating with sandpaper would have been more pleasurable than conversing with this man.

"Captain?" The voice buzzed from the intercom again. The contempt was long gone, replaced by something akin to panic.

'Saved by the bell.' The medic thought as Birknow politely excused himself and then stormed over to the panel. "What is it now?" He demanded.

"The body of the mechanic has been found in the ventilation duct he was working on."

"The…" For the first time, Birknow seemed at a loss for words. "The body?"

"His head's been caved in, and his stomach was mutilated. We found the body because blood was dripping out of the duct."

The enemy commander was struck dumb. For several seconds his mouth gaped open and closed like a goldfish. "W-Who did this?" He finally stuttered.

George tried not to smile, but failed miserably. He settled for picking up his coffee and taking a long sip from it to hid his knowing smirk.

"We don't know sir. We can't well lock down the ship and stay prepared for battle at the same time, so it's one or the other."

"W-Well, I'm sure that whoever has done this won't do it again. Everyone else is all together in groups for battle, yes?"

"… No. There are still over a dozen people spread out individually on the ship."

"Well get them with other people dammit! Safety in numbers!" The way he said this was highly reminiscent of someone who thought themselves a genius for stating the obvious.

"Yes sir. I'll dispatch the order immediately."

Something happened then. A shudder ran the length of the craft, gently vibrating the tea set and making the porcelain rattle noticeably.

The lights flickered, went out, then the emergency back-ups came on in their place, dimmer.

George calmly and discreetly pressed the start button on his watch.

Birknow turned white. For a second he was completely still, then he turned and screamed "What the fuck was that?!" into the comms panel.

***

Erebus looked down at the detonator in his hand. In hindsight he supposed he should have cleaned his fingers a bit first, since now the little device was smeared in grease, saliva, and the blood of his latest meal, but that was fine.

The xeno was sitting behind a crate in the tram terminal, holding the little device in his hand. It was small and black, a bit larger than a pen, with a plastic cover over the button on top

He flipped open the cover, like Barns had instructed, and looked down at his watch. 30 seconds.

He counted down with the timer, and when it reached zero and started flashing, he brought one of this thumbs down on the trigger.

Even through the armor plated bulkheads, he heard the great roar that the blast created, and felt the aftershocks of the explosion go racing up the length of the ship, the floor rattling underneath him.

He grinned, savoring the victory. But it was a hollow victory. Without George by his side, Erebus didn't have anyone to share it with.

Slipping the detonator back into his rucksack, Erebus got to his feet and boarded the tram.

***

George was rather enjoying his experience. His coffee was quite good, and having now downed a cup and being halfway through another, his exhaustion had abated for the time being. It was difficult to drink it without snorting with laughter though, as Birknow's pathetic attempts to wrangle back control of the situation were downright comical.

After engaging in a short shouting match with a bridge officer, Birknow had ordered a security team and a group of mechanics to the rear section in order to figure out what the hell was going on. All they could infer from the forward section was that something had gone wrong with the reactor, and that it was no longer functional.

The enemy commander was now watching the progress of his team on the little video screen in his comms panel, impatiently thrumming his fingers against the wall as he did.

Taking one last sip of coffee, George set the cup back down on the saucer and addressed Birknow.

"Captain," He said, getting the man's attention "I'm ready to accept your surrender."

George relished the look of angry confusion on the man's face. He was silent a moment, before a single word slipped through his lips: "Sabotage…"

"Excellent detective work sir." George applauded mockingly. He hated this man, and now that he didn't have to hide his contempt, he let it all spill out into the open. "Now…" He steepled his fingers in a parody of the position he had original found Birknow in "We have business to discuss. Without your reactor being online, you don't have enough electricity to power your vessel's weapons. A simple equation, one even you can understand. The Hermes is poised to use her own weapons to sever the beam connecting the section of your ship. They will begin firing in roughly, oh, about 13 or 14 minutes, unless you surrender now. After that, you will have ten more minutes to surrender. And if you do not, then the Hermes will blow the Costaguana apart piecemeal."

The medic wasn't sure where these words were coming from. Aside from mocking the enemy captain, these were all things he would never have said under normal circumstances. He supposed they were a manifestation of getting into character.

A vein was popping out of Birknow's forehead, and his face had turned the color of a ripe beet. "No." He whispered, rage honing his voice to a sharp point.

Turning back to the intercom he pressed a button and said "Attention all crew, there is a saboteur on board. Remain vigilant and do not let him strike again!"

He turned back to George, smiling in a rather disturbing way. One might have called it unhinged.

"There, you see?" A muscle twitched in the man's cheek. "Everything is under control."

George simply sat back and looked at Birknow passively. It didn't matter how much the man blustered, he was well and truly screwed. Even if his repair team was able to diagnose the problem, a process which would probably take a good 20 minutes by itself, they would have to manually override the emergency valve AND restart the reactor, a process that would take at least 30 minutes.

"Captain, we're at the transit station to the aft section." A voice buzzed from the panel. "But the transit car was already moving towards us before we called it. Someone is coming back to our section."

Birknow grinned at George. "Your saboteur?"

George put down his coffee and shrugged. He honestly didn't know.

"Lieutenant, take up positions in front of the trams doors, and when they open shoot whoever is inside!"

The medic grit his teeth. 'I don't know if that's you, but if it is, be careful Erebus!' From his seat, he watched on the monitor as the security team took up positions around the tram terminal. The gaggle of mechanics and technicians hid to the rear, crouching behind whatever they could find to hide behind. Two men with shotguns kneeled in front of the tramway doors, with another two armed with pistols hid behind a pair off columns a little further away. They all leveled their weapons at the door and waited as the tram crept closer.

It was an agonizing wait, until finally there was a low ding, and the tram doors slid open to reveal… nothing. There was no one there.

George breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Birknow, by contrast, seemed pretty pissed. "Get in there and check it out." He said impatiently.

The two shotgunners crept forward, with the pistoliers shadowing a few meters behind. Once inside the tram, the two men leading looked around for a moment, then lowered their weapons. "There's no one here, sir." One of them said, turning away to address the security camera watching them.

At that moment, Erebus dropped down from the ceiling of the tram. He kicked the man who was facing away in the small of his back, sending him flying into the two pistoliers and bowling them all over.

The last man standing tried to raise his shotgun, but his reflexes were much too slow to match a xenomorph.

With a flick of his tail, Erebus severed the unfortunate officer's trigger hand at the wrist, then grabbed him by the top of his head and forced his entire arm through the poor man's midsection, spraying the wall with blood.

This all happened in the space of a few seconds.

Tossing the limp body away like a rag-doll, the xenomorph leapt upon the other gunmen as the unarmed crew ran screaming from the room.

Birknow watched, silent and slack-jawed, as Erebus proceed to dispatch all the other officers.

First to go was the other shotgunner, who was scrambling to his feet and trying to raise his weapon, which was pinned beneath another officer's body. Erebus leapt at him, and with a jumpkick so strong it could shatter bone, sent him flying into a pillar, with which his skull connected with a sickening crack. His body slid to the floor, leaving a smear of blood behind.

A pistolier had by this time stood back up and was in the midst of aiming, but Erebus wasted no time in flashing his tail out and slicing the man's throat.

The final man was still on the floor beneath Erebus, lying on his back and reaching desperately for his pistol, which had slid just out of reach.

The alien looked down at him with a sneer of pure hatred, then raised his taloned foot and brought it down on the officer's face, the man screaming in agony as his head was crushed by the impossibly strong appendage, blood spraying across the cold steel floor.

Erebus stood tall over the bodies of his victims, blood dripping from every part of his body. He raised his head and let out a deafening screech of triumph, so loud that it made the camera lens vibrate, then took off on all fours after the fleeing technical staff.

Birknow took a step back, his mouth still hanging open. He blinked dumbly.

George had averted his eyes from the screen after Erebus had taken off. He didn't like looking at those corpses, their pale, lifeless faces forever frozen into expressions of panic and fear.

Blood didn't bother him. If it did he wouldn't have gone into medicine. But he wasn't a violent person by nature. He'd joined the navy out of revolutionary zeal, not bloodlust. He thought back to when he'd tried to execute Erebus, but couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. 'If I'm too soft to kill, or even to look death in the face, then how can I be a productive member of the armed forces?'

But as pressing as the question was, now was not the time to tackle it. His stomach churned unpleasantly from the violence, but in a power play right out of some epic sci-fi tale, he picked up his coffee and calmly took a loud sip, draining the cup.

The noise attracted Birknow's attention, who turned his head to gaze at George in disbelief.

"It might be wise, captain, to put the ship on lockdown until the xenomorph can be contained."

"Xenomorph." Birknow mouthed the word, in the tone of a man who never thought he'd come within a million miles of one. He blinked again, then seemed to regain lucidity. Pressing the ship-wide intercom switch again, he said "Attention all crew. There is a…" He gulped, seemingly unable to say the word "a… a xenomorph on board. I repeat, there is a xenomorph loose on this ship. All crew are to arm themselves immediately, and the marine detachment is to activate and come meet me at my quarters. The ship is on lockdown until further notice."

Ending the announcement, Birknow began flipping rapidly through the cameras, trying to catch up Erebus as he bounded at breakneck speed through the twisting maze of corridors, leaving a path of dead technicians behind him in a breadcrumb trail that would have been comical if it weren't so gory.

It occurred to George that he could alert Birknow to the fact that there were three armed men right outside at his disposal, and he considered the idea. On one hand, he wanted Erebus to win, and reminding the enemy commander of the extra resources at his disposal might impede his xeno ally. Then again, four men with guns hadn't impeded him very much, so three more probably wouldn't either. On the other hand, gaining Birknow's confidence and 'helping' him strategize might make the man respect him enough to give George some leverage to pull the rug out from under the captain later.

After considering this for a moment, George came to the conclusion that on a ship full of people with guns, three more running around probably wouldn't make much of a difference. With that in mind, he cleared his throat loudly getting Birknow to focus on him again.

"Captain, you have three armed men waiting outside this room, correct? You might be able to utilize them to neutralize the organism."

Birknow blinked. "Oh, uh… yes. Right." He looked up at the door and shouted "Lieutenant Clyde!"

'Idiot.' George thought, 'Even children know not to make a racket when monsters are around.'

The door opened and the lieutenant entered. "Yes sir?"

"Remain on high alert and guard the door."

"With all due respect sir, I think it would be safer to move you to the bridge. It would be easier to command the vessel from there, and the area is more secure, with fewer entrances and exits. It can be sealed shut and quarantined, even against the brute strength of a xenomorph."

'Good man. He's got a pretty smart head on his shoulders. I even kind of hope he survives this. Even if he hates his commanding officer, he still knows his place and the role he plays.'

Birknow was silent for a moment, then said "No. My order stands."

"Yes sir." Clyde said, and retreated from the room, closing the door behind him.

The captain stared after him for a moment, then turned to look at George. "How are you so calm?"

Now, the real reason George was calm was because he knew that Erebus could and would tear through every single person on this ship, and wouldn't lay a finger on him. But he couldn't very well tell Birknow that and expect to be considered anything but insane.

So instead he said "Panicking certainly won't improve the situation. So I simply don't."

"Hmph." Birknow turned back to the security cameras.

Now, what George had said wasn't really true, he had certainly panicked quite a lot back on the base when Erebus had first come after him. But the opportunity to look badass in front of the man he so loathed was too good to pass up

'Well, that certainly paid off.' The medic thought, watching the captain flick through the cameras in a semi-panicked fashion. He had make himself look good, and Birknow hadn't utilized his men in any meaningful way. Win-Win.

George couldn't help but grin, watching his enemy try to catch up to Erebus by following his trail of destruction. Aside from the looming time limit, this was all going quite well. He poured himself a third cup of coffee.

***

Erebus leapt over a crate in his path, barreling down the corridor after his quarry.

The young man in the white coat was a nippy one for sure. He was younger than the rest, and had used his energy to stay ahead of the pack, which was how he had survived this long.

Erebus had counted five humans fleeing from the tram terminal. He had killed three, and the fourth, a rather plump older one in overalls, had disappeared in a hallway filled with lockers and boxes.

Figuring that the man was hiding in one of them, Erebus had just continued chasing the other one. He could track down the hiding one later, and show him what happened to humans who thought they were too clever for a xeno.

The one he was chasing rounded a corner and disappeared into a room off the main corridor.

Erebus followed a few seconds behind, landing on the door frame sideways and leaping off of it after his prey to save time and momentum. Inside was a white room that reminded him strongly of the laboratories back on the base.

On the far side, the young man ran up to a thick metal door which lead to another room like this one, but smaller and with a row of windows separating the two. He pressed his thumb against a pad on the wall. It beeped, and the door made a low click.

Erebus's prey hurried pushed it open and tried to close it behind him, but it was too late. The xenomorph was already bounding over the lab counters in a wide arc towards the door. He slammed into it, knocking it back open and sending the man sliding several meters, sprawled on his back.

Erebus tromped up to him slowly, his feet thudding ominously against the floor.

"No… No…" The young man tried to scuttle backwards on his palms, his sweat-soaked hands slipping on the smooth tiles. His glasses were cracked, and his fear-filled eyes refracted crazily through them.

Without warning, the xenomorph pounced, planting his bloody hands on the man's shoulder's and pushing him firmly to the ground. Without giving the man time to scream, he opened his mouth and slammed his pharyngeal jaws through his victim's skull.

In the relative silence that followed, Erebus heard something. Footsteps behind him. The front of his domed head was pointed directly at the ground in front of him, so even though he could see in a semi-sphere all around his dome, no part of it was facing the door.

He turned to look right as the older man in the overalls slammed the door to the room shut on him. The door made another low click.

The alien wasn't one for inaction, so he immediately strode over to the entrance and gave the new obstruction a firm tug on the handle. Nothing happened.

Erebus frowned and tugged harder, pressing down on handle with as much force as he could muster. All he accomplished was bending it.

He took a few steps to his right, over to the windows which separated. the two rooms. Through the one closest to him he could see the older man bending over with his hands on his knees, panting heavily.

The xenomorph silently raised his hand, curling his fingers into a fist. He then punched the transparent divider with all his might.

Any conventional glass and even some metals would have buckled instantly under a blow of such strength. If the same amount of force was applied to a human bone, it would have been rendered into powder.

But this was no ordinary glass. It bent outward a little bit, but otherwise remained unchanged, and immediately bent back inward again, resuming its original position.

The man outside looked up, then took a few steps back as Erebus began laying into the barrier with everything he had, but to no avail.

As he pounded away, the man outside did something that broke the xenomorph: he smiled. He smiled mockingly, confidently. Without fear at all. Just like the scientists back on the base had done.

Erebus was trapped. Again. In confinement, subject to the will of humans who he hated with every fiber of his being and in the very depths of his soul. He tilted his head back and opened his mouths, and a great, primal scream emanated from deep within him. Only someone who knew what to look for would have recognized it as a word: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

***

"Yeeeeeesssss!" Birknow crowed with triumph as the xenomorph struggled fruitlessly to escape from the room. He moved back to the table and picked up his cup of tea, taking a full gulp of the stuff, probably to add some moisture back into his mouth. "Birknow to marines, the creature has been captured in the biology lab. Proceed there now and secure the area."

George wasn't sure why, but he felt anger building within him. Not for Birknow, he already loathed that man enough, but for this new man, who had shut Erebus in and trapped him. He began memorizing the man's face. Wire rim spectacles, round chubby cheeks, receding hairline, sort of tubby around the waste.

Ultimate victory was still certain at this point, so as soon as Birknow (or someone more command-capable) had officially surrendered to George or the Hermes, he would personally track down the man who had trapped Erebus and send him on a one-way trip through an airlock.

George paused, then looked down at his coffee, which was sitting on the table. This feeling, of devotion to another person, wasn't new per-say; he'd had it with a couple of the other men he'd been in relationships with. But it had never been this strong before. He wasn't sure quite where it came from. Perhaps it was because Erebus was his own creation, in a roundabout way. If he hadn't healed the xenomorph, and told him about the universe beyond, then Erebus as a person wouldn't even exist. Like the xeno himself had said, he's just be another hive drone, if he had even survived.

The medic now had several very conflicting feelings battling inside him. On one hand, he was beginning to see Erebus as almost his own child. On the other, he wanted to have sex with him, so the child metaphor was rather uncomfortable to think about. Erebus, while almost child-like in some ways, was definitely very mature in others. He was highly intelligent,

and perfectly aware of the direct short-term and long-term results of his actions.

"What is it doing now?"

George was roused from his thoughts by Birknow, who was staring at the screen with a look of confusion across his face.

Erebus had stopped trying to escape, and was standing with his arms pressed against the glass, head hanging in defeat. His posture was one of resigned misery.

The portly man on the other side of barrier stepped closer, looking through at the xenomorph curiously.

Erebus didn't respond for several seconds. Then he suddenly perked up. Looking the man square in the face with the front of his dome, Erebus then slowly rotated it so his face was pointing at the young man who was lying on his back in a pool of his own blood.

Leaving the barrier behind, the xeno slowly walked over to his victim and looked down at him impassively. Then he picked up the man's hand, and swiftly severed it from the arm with a flick of his tail.

Erebus stared at the severed hand for a moment. Then he curled all the fingers into a fist. All except one: the thumb. He turned his dome to face the door again, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Birknow inhaled sharply in disbelief. "No…"

***

"Yes!" Erebus whispered, as the pad he had pressed the thumb against beeped, and the door clicked once more. He pulled the handle, and this time the obstruction swung open easily. He carelessly discarded the hand by tossing it away.

On the other side was the stout man in overalls, looking very much like he regretted coming out of hiding to pull this scheme. He gulped and stumbled backward as a single word escaped his mouth "No…"

"Oh yeah…" Erebus murmured, stalking towards his prey.

The man's eyes bulged out of his head "You talk?!"

The xenomorph leapt forward, pinning the man to the ground as he tried to turn and run. "Yes," he whispered into his victim's ear "I do talk." He trailed his hand in front of the man's face, making him watch as his talons slipped from his fingertips into the open. "But right now, that's the least of your problems."

***

George didn't watch what Erebus did to the man for very long. He could pretty well guess what it was. He had seen the xeno slid his claws under the man's skin and then begin to pull gently, peeling it up from the flesh and bone below. The alien was flaying him alive.

The medic had looked away when the screaming started, but that didn't stop the horrible cries of agony from emanating through the speakers. If he had had a more delicate constitution, George might have been sick. He resolved to have a talk with Erebus after the mission was completed, and try to get him to adopt more… conventional methods of killing. He still had the assault rifle strapped to his back after all, having remained untouched since the mission began.

Birknow was still staring intently at the screen though, squinting at it as though confused. "What is… does that thing have an assault rifle on its back?" He asked, almost in disbelief. "And is that- is it wearing ammunition belt?!"

'Oh shit, he finally saw it.' George thought. Out loud he said "I don't know, you tell me. You can see the screen better than I can."

"It sure looks like it's wearing one…" Birknow squinted closer. "Tell me if you think that looks like and ammunition belt and assault rifle."

The screaming still hadn't stopped, and when George looked up there was a very large splotch of red pixels covering a good portion of the screen, which George took to be a pool of blood. He tried not to look at the man on the floor, but it was hard not to. By now most of the skin on his chest and about half of his face had been peeled away. George could see bits of his skull through what was left.

"It looks like it, yes." He said evenly.

"Who the hell dressed it up like that?" The captain asked disbelievingly. "Were they insane?"

This remark almost made George smile. He doubted that Barns was insane, but the thought had probably crossed the other marine's mind while he was kitting out the xeno. The comedy of it almost made him forget that they were still on the clock. George didn't know how much time was left before the Hermes opened fire, but he knew it couldn't be very long.

Suddenly Erebus looked up from his work. He stared at the door to the room for a fraction of a second, then stood up and turned his head to look directly into the camera watching him.

Birknow inhaled sharply and took a step back.

The xenomorph opened his mouths, let out a deafening shriek which rattled the camera lens, and brought his foot down hard on the head of the man he had just been skinning a moment before. There was a wet crack as the skull buckled and shattered, and gore splattered everything around him. Then he jumped a good three meters straight up, stuck to the ceiling, and clambered into a ventilation duct.

A few seconds later, an entire platoon of heavily armed marines burst into the room Erebus had just vacated, and were left with a scene of death and blood.

Looking rather pale, Birknow turned off the monitor and ordered the marines to split into squads and search the ship, then collapsed into his armchair.

George had recovered quickly from the disgust he'd felt at the fate of the man that Erebus had skinned, and picked up his coffee to take another sip.

The enemy commander looked up at him in disbelief. "How can you stomach coffee at a time like this; after seeing gore like that?!"

"I trained as a medic. I've seen worse. Plus we don't really have steady access to this stuff in the outer rim." It occurred to George a couple seconds too late that this didn't really line up with his claim of being a corporal, but thankfully Birknow was too busy wallowing in his own pity to take notice of this oversight.

"Captain, I really think it would be prudent to negotiate a surrender. We don't have much time left before the Hermes opens fire. Then a rouge xenomorph will be the least of your worries."

Birknow looked up at him with a grim expression. "I'm not going to surrender to you. Never."

George just looked back down at his coffee. He raised the cup to his lips, and took another sip. Putting the cup back into the saucer, which he was also holding, he started intently at Birknow and, in the most even and measured tone he could manage, said "Then you condemn yourself to death."

"Just myself? You can be sure that I'll be taking you with me."

The medic didn't even bother to conceal his smug smile anymore. The power of having a xenomorph on his side was beginning to go to his head, and he was loving it. "I wouldn't be so sure."

It was at that moment they both heard rattling in the ceiling above them, and looked upwards with vastly different expressions on their faces.

***

Erebus had enjoyed torturing the man who had trapped him. It was oddly calming, cathartic even. It was a pity that he hadn't had time to finish the job, but he had really needed to get moving anyway. He didn't have any more time to play.

He wasn't sure how long it had been, but it would only be a few more minutes before the Hermes opened fire. Then George would be in danger, and he couldn't stand that thought. So, obviously, he had to go protect his human. At the very least, they could die in each other's arms.

Erebus paused for a second, considering that thought. As a hive drone, all he had ever been concerned about was keeping himself, his hive-mates, and their queen alive. It seemed rather odd that now he wished to die. He tilted his head a little, lost in thought. Or… maybe he didn't want to die per-say. He knew what he wanted; he wanted to have George in his arms, to smell his happy-sweet scent, and to drift off pressed together in warm softness. Whether to sleep or to death wasn't really the point, come to think of it.

So then, what was?

The xeno resumed his progress, still thinking. Why did he want to be so close to George? It was physically satisfying, to be sure, it was warm and cozy, and rather arousing sometimes. But that wasn't entirely it. There was something else…

Maybe the humans had a word to describe it. He'd ask George when they were together again.

He scuttled through the air ducts, looking for a central junction, which he found. Flicking his tongue out to taste the air coming in from every individual shaft leading there, he picked the one that smelled the most strongly of his friend and raced down it, not compromising stealth with his lightning pace.

Eventually reaching a small vent cover, from which George's happy-sweet scent entered the airway, Erebus peered through it.

From this vantage point he was at floor-level, with furniture generally obstructing his view. The vent was much too small to squeeze through, and it appeared to be located under a bed. The xeno's olfactory and hearing abilities were still good though. The room definitely smelled strongly of George, and he could hear his friend's voice clearly through the vent.

"Captain, I really think it would be prudent to negotiate a surrender. We don't have much time left before the Hermes opens fire. Then a rouge xenomorph will be the least of your worries."

A voice that Erebus recognized but could not put a face to then said "I'm not going to surrender to you. Never."

A few moments after there was a strange noise, which the xeno quickly realized was the sound of a liquid being sucked up. Accompanying the noise came a new smell. It was warm, but bitter, unlike the rich salty tang of blood. Erebus cocked his head to the side. Was George drinking something in there. He didn't know much about humans, but it sure seemed an odd time for it.

His friend continued though "Then you condemn yourself to death."

Erebus decided that that was a good cue for him to introduce himself. He quietly scuttled up the vent until he was perfectly above the room, then began banging on the floor of the duct, trying to goad the bad human into shooting up at him, which would focus his attention there, and allow the alien to sneak up on him from a different direction.

***

"GUARDS!!!" Birknow screamed in panic.

A huge grin spread over George's face. "Hello Erebus." He whispered.

The three guards burst into the room, guns drawn and ready to fire.

"Xenomorph in the ceiling; shoot it!"

They unloaded their weapons into the ceiling, the two marines holding down the triggers of their assault rifles and chewing through their large magazines just as quickly as the officer with the semi-automatic pistol went through his. When their ammunition was finally exhausted, there were well over a hundred bullet holes in the roof; insulation and fragments of pulverized aluminum drifting to the floor like snowflakes.

No acid blood though.

George smiled even wider. Every round had missed its mark. Erebus apparently hadn't lingered in the vent.

As the marines moved to reload their smoking weapons, they looked around in confusion. The officer looked too, but directly at Birknow and with a rather judgmental frown on his face, as though he thought his superior had just imagined a noise and broke form over nothing. He efficiently ejected the magazine from his pistol and inserted another with a sharp snap, then pointedly turned on his heel to leave.

George couldn't see what happened next behind the back of his armchair, but he had a pretty good idea, because a second later he heard a loud "Oof!" and the officer went flying past him into Birknow, tipping over the latter's armchair and knocking them both to the floor. Given the panicked look on everyone's faces, he assumed that Erebus had just swung down from the doorframe kicked the officer in the stomach so hard that he had been sent sailing across the room.

That temporarily removed both the officer and Birknow from the equation. There were two marines still standing though, one directly to George's left and another slightly behind the first, both struggling to reload.

The alien wasted no time in kicking the marine nearest to him right in the groin, causing him to instinctively drop his weapon and close his legs together, clutching his crotch while an agonized expression exploded onto his face. Erebus then nonchalantly seized him by the collar and tossed him aside like a ragdoll, sending him crashing down onto the table, knocking it over and breaking it in half as George calmly held his teacup and saucer clear of the destruction.

The other marine was still fumbling with his magazine, but would have it in before Erebus could close the distance between the two from a stand-still. So, in a motion so smooth and satisfying that George could have watched it a hundred times over, the alien reached back with his long arms, brought his assault rifle forward, and leveled it at the marine just as the man managed to load his weapon.

Erebus didn't hesitate, and emptied an entire magazine into the guard's chest, shredding his torso into mincemeat. The marine collapsed against a wall and slid to the floor, dead as a doornail.

Coughing, spluttering, and clutching his stomach, the officer was now finally getting back up, fumbling for his pistol, which was still on the floor.

In an act of arrogance that brought back memories of how Erebus had gloated over George's helplessness back on the base, the alien casually leaned his empty rifle against his friend's armchair and walked over to the officer, who had only just managed to retrieve his weapon. As he tried to raise it, the xeno simply grabbed the hand holding the gun, forced it up to position the barrel directly under the man's chin, and squeezed.

Brains and bits of skull decorated the ceiling, and the officer toppled over dead, his gun following him to floor.

Thus was the scene that presented itself to Birknow as he scrambled backwards on the palms of his hands, backing into the wall as he tried to put as many centimeters between himself and the alien as possible. Two of his guards lay dead, another catatonic. The room was soaked in blood, and the floor was covered with spent casings and bits of the ceiling. And in the middle of it all, sat a young man in an officer's uniform, still situated comfortably in the tacky white armchair that he'd been reclining in for the past half-hour.

The young man was smiling, as though satisfied by that which he saw before him. He raised the coffee cup, the last intact piece of the entire porcelin set, to his lips, and downed the last of the bitter brown liquid, before carelessly tossing it aside, letting it shatter on the floor some ways to his right.

Climbing comfortably to his feet, he walked over to stand beside the xenomorph, his posture downright casual.

And then, to the utter shock and disbelief of Birknow, he and the creature held hands, fingers intertwining as they cast an affectionate glace at one another.

"Who are you?" Birknow whispered.

The young man smiled even wider, then stuck out his free hand, as though offering to shake his opponent's. "Private George Canner, Combat Medic, 101st Marine Section. And this-" he indicated the xenomorph "-is Erebus. We will now accept your surrender."

And Erebus raised his head and screeched in deafening victory.

***

Upon their return to the Hermes, George and Erebus were greeted like heroes.

Or rather, George was. Everyone still avoided Erebus like the plague. In fact the only time anyone came within three meters of him was when they wanted to get close to George, to shake his hand or give him a hug or something.

Normally the medic would have been pretty pissed by this kind of behavior, as it was exceptionally rude to his friend, but at the moment he kind of understood their hesitation. Erebus may have just played a part in winning them a major victory, capturing an entire corporate frigate, with almost all systems still intact and the crew surrendering without a fight, but that didn't change the fact that he was covered in grime, grease, and gore.

He left a trail of dirty footprints wherever he went, and people naturally shied away from him, as he looked downright feral when he was covered with filth.

George hadn't really appreciated it before, but now he realized that appearing clean and well-kempt was a pretty integral part of looking like a person. Erebus had certainly been more relatable when he was shiny and groomed. More cuddly too.

They returned their equipment Barns, who upon learning that the strange sticky substance that coated the detonator was in fact a mixture of blood, industrial lubricant, and xenomorph saliva, had make a particularly high-pitched squeak and dropped the device on the floor.

This had prompted Meyers to yell at Barns about mistreating military grade-hardware, and he had sent the private off to find a way to clean the detonator.

After that, George had started taking off the uniform to try and give it back to Meyers, but even the corporal was very much aware of how exhausted the poor medic was at this point, and simply told him to keep the uniform for the night, go to his quarters, and get some sleep. Effective immediately.

And so it was, that a half-asleep George, and very much wide-awake Erebus stumbled into their shared room.

The private didn't even bother with anything but closing the door behind them, and promptly staggered over to the bed and collapsed.

"Um… George?" The xenomorph murmured.

"Yeah?"

"I don't… I can't get into your nest; I'm not clean. I'd make it dirty."

George rolled over onto his back and looked at the xenomorph. It was true, from the blood dripping down his chin to the grime he had tracked in on his feet, the xenomorph was in no fit state to go anywhere but the bathtub.

Thankfully, this being a suite on a previously civilian vessel, there was one in the immediate proximity.

"Follow me." George muttered, forcing himself up and leading the xeno into the washroom.

For a warship it was rather luxurious. Actually it was rather luxurious for any washroom in the outer rim. The floor was all crisp white tiles, while the walls were smooth white plaster. Across from them was a sink built into a small row of cabinets. To the left was the bathtub, and to the right was the lavatory.

"What's this?" Erebus asked, looking at the tub.

"It's a bathtub. Here, step into it."

The xenomorph did so, looking around curiously.

Too tired to explain what he was going to do, George turned on water and waited for it to get warm.

Erebus seemed very interested in this, and crouched down on all fours to look at the spigot from the bottom. He made a sort of strange giggly sound as he put him dome under it and washed his head in the running water.

It was at this moment that George pulled up the pin on the tap, and the water came shooting out of the showerhead instead of the faucet.

Erebus squealed in panic and scrambled desperately to get out of the tub, his feet and hands slipping on the smooth wet porcelain. His feet went out from under him and he slammed into the bottom of the tub, still shrieking horribly.

Thinking that maybe the water was too hot and it was burning him, George quickly shut off the showerhead and reached in to try and help Erebus out.

A six-fingered hand grabbed his arm and held it like a vice, Erebus using him as leverage to haul himself out. He collapsed on the tiled floor and curled up into a tight little ball, tail curled around himself with his head tucked between his legs.

In the ensuing silence, George realized that the xenomorph was whimpering.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The human murmured softly, kneeling down next to his friend.

"Why-" Erebus sniffled "Why did you do that to me? What did I do wrong?"

"What? You didn't do anything wrong."

"Yes I did. Why else would you shoot me with water?" The xeno whined softly, curling up tighter.

"I don't-" Then it clicked in George's head. "Erebus, did they do this to you on the base?"

"They… they sprayed me with water whenever I was angry or misbehaving, to make me stop. It hurt so much, and I couldn't escape."

Pity welled in George's heart. "Oh Erebus…" He laid down on the floor next to him and held his hand comfortingly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. What I was doing to you is what humans call a 'shower'. We spray ourselves with water to clean ourselves. I should have warned you, but I thought you understood how it worked. I didn't mean to hurt you." And with that, the human leaned over and gave the xeno a light kiss right on the top of his dome.

The alien was still for a moment, then he raised his head and looked at George questioningly. His breathing had calmed somewhat, but was still heavy. "What was that? What did you just do?"

"It's called a 'kiss'. Humans do it to show that they really like someone."

"Do you really like me?" Erebus sounded almost incredulous.

"Yes Erebus, I do. I really do. And do you remember when we were in the bed together?"

The xeno nodded slowly.

"I was thinking then…" George closed his eyes and pressed his forehead gently against the xeno's own.

Erebus pressed back, affection passing between them in the intimate touch of each other's flesh.

"And I decided that you were right: I want to mate with you."

Erebus was silent.

George opened his eyes and looked at him curiously.

"Really?" The xeno asked, almost disbelievingly.

"Yes, silly." George reached up and rubbed the top of the xeno's head affectionately. "You're intelligent, handsome, sleek, and graceful. And very kind to the people you like. You're fun to talk to, and you love to learn. You're everything I could ever want in a partner."

The xeno uncoiled as he heard this, muscles relaxing as the praise sank in.

Seeing his opportunity, George half-jokingly sad "Plus you have a really great cock" and reached forward to rub Erebus's groin, running his fingers over the slit he found there.

The xeno purred and pressed his forehead against George's. "Thank you. I like you. You are kind, and nice, and you healed me when you could have let me die. You showed me how much more there is to life. I would be honored to be your partner." He grinned playfully. "And your cock isn't bad either."

George felt something rubbing his crotch, and looked down to find one of Erebus's six fingered hands stroking up and down the bulge in the front of his pants.

"Do humans take their clothes off to wash themselves in the shower?"

"Yeah. Otherwise we- Oof!" George let out a surprised huff as the hand stroking him squeezed his package gently.

'Fuck.' He thought, 'Thus bugger's been out of confinement for a week tops and already he's got a good hand on foreplay. Pun intended…'

"Yeah. We do, because if we didn't then out clothes would get all wet and chafe, plus we wouldn't be able to clean most of our bodies." George continued, struggling to form coherent thoughts as Erebus's squeezes got stronger and more insistent.

"Will you show me how to shower?" Erebus asked, half serious and half sultry.

"Sure, if you'll let go of me for long enough to stand up and get undressed."

The hand promptly retreated from his groin, and Erebus smiled again, playfully bumping his head against George's.

If he had had more energy, George would have put more effort into undressing sensually. As it was, even with the adrenaline rush from the alien's panic attack, and the testosterone from his own arousal, he still barely had enough energy to function. So he simply took off his clothes piece by piece. He kicked off the shoes and socks, removed his dress shirt, and the shirt underneath, showing the xeno his bare chest.

Erebus purred happily, watching this with an unabashedly voyeuristic smirk on his face.

Then George moved on to what he knew his companion was really interested in. He undid his belt and tossed it aside, before lowering his pants and kicking them away.

The xenomorph was staring quite intently at the human's groin now, covered as it was only by his underwear. "Off." He said simply, stated very much like a command.

A small shiver went up George's spine. Authoritarianism. He wasn't crazy for it, but in small doses it really livened things up. Complying, he peeled off his underwear and tossed them into a pile with the rest of his clothes, leaving himself completely naked in front of the xenomorph.

The xeno propped himself up on an elbow, staring at George's genitals intently. He was smiling. A genuine, happy smile too. Not a voyeuristic grin, or a malicious sneer, a rare, genuine expression of contentment, which George had only seen from him a few other times. "I like seeing you naked." Erebus explained, unprompted, "It's when you're the most like me. And you're very handsome too."

"Well my junk is hanging out and yours isn't." George said invitingly, trying to prompt the xenomorph to reveal himself too.

Instead Erebus cocked his head to the side curiously "Junk?"

"Uh, this." George cupped his genitals in his hand. "Something you should know about the English language is that we have a lot of innuendoes. An innuendo is when you say one thing, but mean something else." 'Junk' is an innuendo for 'genitals'.

"That seems inefficient. Why not just call things what they are?"

"Because some people get upset or offended by that."

"People get upset by accurate definitions of what things are?" The xenomorph sounded incredulous.

"You have no idea…" George chuckled. "But that's not my point. What I meant to say is, you can see my genitals, but I can't see yours."

"Oh." The sultry grin returned to the xeno's face. Wordlessly climbing back to his feet, the xenomorph's slit split open and his cock emerged, along with, to George's great surprise, a pair of balls, which dropped down to hang between the xenomorph's legs, along with his flaccid member. And to his even greater surprise, they seemed to swell a little bit, not cartoonishly, but they definitely got a bit bigger and fuller over a few seconds.

"You have…?" George touched his own testicles to illustrate the point.

"Yes. I didn't show them to you earlier because I wasn't sure how much to trust you. It's a very sensitive and vulnerable part of our bodies, which is why we keep them tucked away in our slits. Humans don't seem to have slits though, which makes you very vulnerable to…" He made a sort of upward kick with his leg, making George wince as he remembered the guard on the Costaguana that had found out first hand just how vulnerable his groin was to attack in that manner.

"Is it normal for them to swell up like that?"

"Yes, they're filling up from an internal reservoir. My balls are just temporary storage for when I'm mating. What you saw me ejaculate in the water reservoir was the full contents of my internal storage. Is that not how humans work?"

The absurdity of the question almost made George laugh. "No, what humans have in their testicles is all they have until they make more, which takes a while. And it's a lot less than you have."

Erebus frowned. "That seems awfully inefficient. How do you make lots of hatchlings then?"

George almost laughed again "We don't. Human, er, hatchlings take about nine months to gestate and grow enough to be born, or hatch I guess. You've been free for about seven days; a week. Human fetuses take 240 days, or 40 weeks to mature fully.

The xeno's mouth actually dropped open. "How have humans survived this long and spread this far if you can't have many hatchlings?!"

"Lots of time. It took us a really long time to get here. We've been working up to it for ten thousand years."

"I don't know how long that is. What is a 'thousand'?"

"This is really interesting, but I'm also really tired and my sex drive is about to give out, can we just move on and get the shower done already?"

"Ok." Erebus motioned at the bathtub. "Are you going to show me?"

"Yeah, here." George climbed in and turned on the water, Erebus watching intently as water cascaded gently off of his body. "See? It doesn't hurt at all."

The xeno took a cautious step forward, then another, until he was standing at the edge of the tub.

George smiled and held out his hand, which Erebus took, and the xeno stepped carefully into the bath.

Given the alien's large size, it was exceptionally good that the bathtub was on a former yacht, so the bath was built almost as large as a hot-tub to accommodate the egos of the rich pricks who used it. Erebus and George fit with room to spare.

They were both efficient cleaners, the alien having learned to bathe quickly and not to linger during his brief life as a hive drone, and the marine having been taught to do so by his drill sergeant. They didn't waste time, although at one point the xeno took a bite out of the soap after George referred to it as a 'cake'. He spent the next five minutes hiccupping bubbles.

And then after they were mostly clean, the foreplay resumed. It was inconspicuous at first. Erebus asked George if he could clean his dorsal lobes; as flexible as the alien was he couldn't quite reach them back there.

The human complied, lathering his hands with soap and applying the suds liberally to the protrusions on the xeno's back.

Then Erebus asked for George to start rubbing up and down the lobes too. The human wasn't quite sure why, but did as he was asked, gripping the hard black flesh gently between his fingers and running his hands along the length of the protrusions, the soap acting like lubricant and making the movement easier.

The alien's breathing became heavier, and the tip of his tail began to twitch slightly.

"Erebus, what exactly am I doing to you?"

"It feels so good… I don't know why, but stroking those always feels good… Someone else has to do it though, because I can't reach…"

"If you think that feels good, you're going to love this…" George let go of one of the lobes and trailed his finger down the alien's back until he reached the base of his tail. There he found the anal slit that he'd seen earlier. Gently sliding his finger along it, he heard the xenomorph sharply intake breath.

"May I?" George asked sincerely. He wasn't sure if the xeno wanted to be touched there, and he needed permission first.

"Yeah…" Erebus breathed, still reveling in the sensations from his dorsal lobes and under his tail.

George proceeded to move his finger along the slit, teasingly applying pressure all along the length of it. When he eventually pressed his fingers inside, he found the interior to be pleasantly warm and tight. Clean too, which was a bit of a relief. Nothing turned George off quite like poor hygiene. The cascading water was a suitable makeshift lubricant, smoothing the passage upwards towards the xeno's rectum.

"Ah!" Erebus sighed, clenching against the finger.

"Is this your first time having something up there?"

"Yes." Erebus squeaked as George's digit wormed in deeper and brushed up against a small lump inside of him.

"Found it…" The medic crooned proudly.

"Found what- Eep!" Erebus squeaked again as George jabbed the little bundle of nerves with the tip of his finger.

"It's your prostate. It feels really good to have it touched or pressed against. Can I put in another finger, or are you uncomfortable?"

"I feel fine. You can add anotherrrr…" The xeno trailed off into a happy sigh as another digit pressed inside him to join the first. "So…" He breathed, "This must be what the other males felt like as I bred their tailholes. No wonder they didn't want me to stop."

"I'm glad it feels good. Some people don't like it, but I do, and I'm happy that you do too." George began to gently thrust his fingers in and out of the xenomorph's anus, jabbing his prostate with each push, pausing every once in a while to stretch the black tailring apart by scissoring his fingers as wide as was comfortable for his friend.

Erebus leaned forward, pressing his hands against the front of the shower while raising his tail. His head hung between his arms; breathing heavy and intercut with cute little moans.

When George asked if he could add a third finger, Erebus said "Stop teasing me, I can't take it. Just put your cock inside and breed me, won't you?"

The medic paused. "Uh… I can't."

Erebus turned his entire head to look at George, peering at him incredulously from under his arm. "You can't?"

"Um, yeah. No I can't. It's, uh… you haven't been tested for any sexually transmitted diseases. I'm worried that if I have penetrative sex with you, I might get sick. That means I can't breed you, and you can't do it to me either. Not that I think I'd be able to fit you inside me on my first try anyway." He smiled sheepishly.

Erebus stared at the floor for a moment, then said "I guess that's fair." He smiled lovingly at his partner. "I don't want to make you sick. Is there anything I can do that won't infect you?"

"I don't know if you're infected or anything Erebus. You might not even be able to get a sexual infection for all I know. I'm just playing it safe. I'll see if Anderson had any tests for the various diseases lying around, and then we'll know for sure."

"Thanks for the reassurances George." The xeno purred "But still, is there anything we can do that won't infect us?"

"We can still use our hands and fingers all we like, as long as we wash them. And, well… I know I don't have any diseases myself, because I got tested a while back and haven't had sex since then, and mostly the disease I'm worried about is HIV/AIDs, which has a much lower chance of being transmitted orally. So I guess I can fuck your mouth, like you wanted me to on the base. Give me a second and I'll finish you by jacking you off and fingering your rear, then you can return the favor."

"Actually…" Erebus slowly pulled off George's fingers, clenching his anus as he did to heighten the experience for himself. "Don't finish me yet, there's something I want to show you after we're out of the shower. I promise it won't make a mess."

"Uh… ok." The medic had no idea what his friend had in mind, but he trusted him.

Erebus got down on all fours facing George and opened his mouths, sticking out the little one level with George's crotch and retracting his teeth out of sight into his gums.

Despite this, George was still hesitant. "Hey Erebus?"

The xeno cocked his head to the side curiously, unable to speak with his mouths in their current position.

"I'm still worried about your teeth. I trust you, and I know you wouldn't hurt me intentionally. Can you promise to be careful?"

Erebus reached up and held George's hand gently, nodding slowly and obviously trying to convey sincerity into motion.

"Thank you…" The marine murmured gratefully. He knelt down on one knee and gave Erebus another kiss on his dome before standing back up and taking his hard cock in his hand. Lining it up with the xeno's exposed maw, he gently pushed it inside the warm, tight little mouth. It was a bit of a squeeze, but not uncomfortable at all. More like a satisfying pressure against his organ at all times. The large amounts of viscous saliva that dripped from the xeno's mouths was a very effective lubricant, and in no time at all George had hilted himself

Erebus slowly retracted his little mouth into his larger one, drawing the marine's cock inside him. He then closed his lips around it, and began to suck. They were little suckles at first, tentative, cautious even. But within a couple of minutes the alien had increased in both speed and intensity, drawing at George's cock firmly and pressing the front of his dome into the fuzz around the human's genitals.

George was in a state of pure bliss. He couldn't tell if it was just an illusion caused by having his dick sucked, but it felt like his cock was being rhythmically squeezed by the alien's little mouth. He could feel the tongue in there too, wriggling around and adding another whole new layer to the experience.

He could hear the xeno's low sucking sounds over the noise of the shower; long, slow, happy sucking. George put his hands on the side of the xeno's head to get better leverage, and then started sliding his cock in and out of Erebus's mouth, and in response the xeno began sucking in time, drawing on the cock as it was being pulled out for maximum effect.

But it wasn't just the pleasure of sex here. There was much more to it. It was intimacy. Intimacy with another person on such a level as George hadn't felt in months. Two people who trusted each other, who confided in each other, who shared emotions too complex and deep for a mere friend to understand. It just so happened in this case that one of those two people was a xenomorph.

The sex was great, yes, but George could just wank off if he needed release. This was true intimacy they were sharing, a moment of passion and kindness in the cruel and chaotic whirl of war. For the first time since shipping out of Steele, George felt truly at ease.

This of course was rather ironic, as a literal monster had its mouthparts around his genitals and showed no sign of letting go, but that was beside the point.

He felt fingers creeping up the inside of his thigh, and a moment later something pressed experimentally against his rear end. Erebus probably wanted to do to him what he had done to the xeno.

George paused for a moment. They didn't really have any proper lubricant, but the water was an acceptable stopgap, and this wasn't the first time he's taken something up his rear, plus the xeno's fingers were pretty slim anyway. "Ok, but go slowly and be gentle."

Erebus did his best to nod around the dick in his mouth, and slowly pushed a finger up inside his friend. The digit explored a bit, before finding the same little bundle of nerves that George had stimulated, and rubbed against it insistently.

The medic moaned. The pleasure from his ass and from the mouth around his cock together was overwhelming, and with a few more spastic thrusts, he came in the xeno's mouth, shooting several ropes of cum into the alien's hungry maw before pulling out and nigh collapsing onto the floor of the tub, the alien's finger slipping free of his rear.

He saw a few drops of his semen escape from the edges of Erebus's mouth, before the xeno swiped them back up with his tongue and then loudly swallowed the load, tilting his head back for maximum effect.

"That was pretty good." George panted, leaning his head back against the wall and smiling. "How many times have you given oral before?"

"Four."

"You learn quick."

The xeno grinned. "Thank you. You taught me how to find the prostate, so you deserve some praise too. And your cum tastes good."

"I'm glad. Sometimes it tastes acrid."

"What is acrid?"

"If something has a strong taste, but not a good taste, it's acrid." George looked at the xeno. He was sitting rather like a dog, with his hind limbs bent while his arms supported his upper body, smiling at his new mate. "Hey Erebus, can you promise me something?"

The alien tilted his head inquisitively "What?"

"Promise me you'll keep asking questions. You're so curious about everything, and that's such a good quality to have. I know too many people who have started rejecting new knowledge as they grew older. Promise me you'll always keep an open mind, and no matter how much you think you know, keep asking questions."

"I promise." Erebus purred, leaning forward to rub his dome affectionately against George's cheek.

The human reached up and gently ran a hand along the biomechanical patterns on the side of his friend's head, reveling in their intricate complexity.

Erebus made that strange giggling sound again. "That tickles."

George got up on his knees and put his arms around him, pulling Erebus into a close hug.

The xeno immediately returned it, and for a minute they embraced in silence, listening to the water patter against the tops of each other's heads.

"Well," George said, ending the hug and standing up, "That was fun, but I really gotta turn off the water. It doesn't matter how injured or how much of a hero I am, if I waste any more water Meyers'll skin me." He then remembered that that's exactly what Erebus had done to one of his victims and regretted making the joke. Remembering the poor sod's screams put ice in his heart and killed the last remnants of his sexual energy.

They stepped out of the bath, and George took down a bathmat from the towel rack for them to stand on as they dried off.

As George was patting the xeno down with the towel, the alien said "I'm noticing a pattern here: humans like warm fluffy things. Pillows, beds, now towels."

George made an amused huff, welcoming the distraction from his dark thoughts. "Yeah. We're pretty addicted to comfort."

He moved down to the xenomorph's penis and looked up, asking "You want me to dry this? Or do you want it to stay wet?"

"Dry. I've never actually seen or felt it dry, so I'm curious."

George rubbed it down, then continued on until the rest of the xeno was dry and spotless.

Erebus was gently running his fingers up and down his hard shaft, apparently checking out its texture.

"This feels really cool." He said. "Here…" he took hold of George's hand with his own and guided it to his penis. "Feel it."

George did, and he liked what he felt. Aside from the ridges and biomechanical patterns, it was smooth as silk. As a matter of fact, it actually felt a lot like silk. Hard, firm, warm silk, but silk nonetheless. The flesh was smooth and fine, and the human couldn't resist running his fingers along it like he'd seen the xenomorph do earlier.

"Ready to go to bed and see the thing I can do?" Erebus asked.

"Sure." George started walking towards the door, but had only taken a single step when strong arms curled around his and lifted him off the floor, Erebus cradling him against his chest.

"You're never going to stop doing this now, are you?" George asked in mock exasperation.

Erebus giggled "Not unless you tell me to."

The human rested his head against his friend's chest, closing his eyes and smiling. "Tell ya what; as long as we're in a private place with no one else around, you can carry me like this. Deal?"

"Deal." Erebus strode out of the bathroom and over to the bed, setting George down on the right side and bounding over him in a little arc to settle down on the left. He laid down on his back, something which he couldn't do most places because of the protrusions from his back, but which the bed was soft enough to allow. Spreading his legs, he took a hold of the knot at the base of his cock and, in a feat of flexibility that made George's jaw drop, bent over double and slipped the head of his cock into his mouth.

He bypassed his pharyngeal jaw entirely and went straight to the back of his throat, sucking himself off and almost deep-throating his own cock. His hands crept back and began playing with his tailhole as he sucked, pulling it open and teasing the rim before gentling inserting a couple of fingers.

Erebus's sucking got nosier too, although he kept to his word about not making a mess, pausing for a moment to lick his saliva back up if a little escaped from his lips and began rolling down his chin.

Had George possessed more stamina, he would have been hard as a rock and wildly jacking off to this sight. But he was exhausted, and after the intense orgasm he'd had earlier he was pretty mellowed out, so he just watched in amazement as Erebus worked himself.

The xenomorph moaned loudly around the dick in his mouth, then made a muffled screech and thrust his cock as far back into his throat as he could. He convulsed a few times, still sucking desperately on his dick, and then swallowed.

George noticed that the alien's testicles deflated noticeably as this was happening.

"Ahhhh…" Erebus sighed happily as his cock popped free from his mouth, soaked in saliva but otherwise clean. He licked a few more drops of cum off the tip as they emerged, then retracted his empty balls and rapidly softening penis back into his slit and extracted his fingers from his rear

Leaning back against his pillow, the xenomorph sighed once again, and then turned to look at George, grinning. "How'd you like that?"

George was speechless. "That… that was incredible. How many times have you done that?"

"I've been doing it for as long as I can remember, but you gave me the idea to put my fingers in my tailhole. The scientists never stopped me, even when I was alone in my room. I think they were watching me, through the black boxes on the walls with shiny round circles in them, because the part of the black boxes with the circle were always facing me, and the scientists always knew when I did something they didn't like."

"Those are called security cameras, and yes, they were watching you."

"Well, I hope they enjoyed what they saw, maybe jacked off to it a few times, because they aren't alive to enjoy it anymore." The xeno's smile was gone, and he was staring at the ceiling with a neutral expression.

George reached over and put a hand on the side of his dome comfortingly. "You're free now. And I promise you'll never be in a cage ever again."

Erebus glanced at him worriedly. "What if your people put me in a cage?"

"They won't." George assured him

"Are you sure? What if they do?"

"Then I'll get you out, and then we'll run away together, to some far corner of the galaxy where no one will find us."

The xeno was silent. Then he whispered "I think I'd like that. When the war is over, whoever wins, I want to settle down and devote myself to learning and creating." He turned to face George again, "And to being with you."

"With me?"

"Of course with you. Xenomorphs don't mate for life, but I think I want to be with you forever. You've taught and shown me so much. Maybe we'll have sex with other people sometimes, but I want to be your mate for the rest of my life."

George smiled gently, and Erebus returned it. They pushed their foreheads together and hugged, pulling each other close. The human turned over, allowing the xeno to pull him even closer so they could spoon. They snuggled contently as the medic reached down and pulled the covers over them.

"Till death do us part." George murmured, smiling, and Erebus murred in agreement.