The Travis Hicks Diaries

Entries 6 Through 10

SPECIAL SYNDICATE ORDER # 98364-X

PRIORITY: HIGHEST

TO: ADMIRAL BESSON, COMMANDER OF ARMY BASE 613. LV-212

FROM: THE HIGH ADMIRALTY OF THE SYNDICATE

ORDER: USE "SUBJECT A", SENT TO YOU ON MARCH 14TH, TO PREPARE FOR AN ATTACK ON THE UNITED EARTH ARMY BASE IN YOUR DIRECT VICINITY. IF IT HASN'T ARRIVED BY NOW, THEN IT WILL IN THE COMING DAYS. PLACE "SUBJECT A" CLOSE ENOUGH TO THE ENEMY BASE, THAT THEY WILL FIND IT AND BRING IT IN. THE SUBJECT HAS A XENOMORPH GROWING INSIDE OF IT, THAT WHEN IT HATCHES COULD POTENTIALLY WIPE OUT THE ENTIRE ENEMY ARMY AND IS OUR HOPE WILL LEAVE YOUR SECTION OF THE PLANET OPEN FOR OUR DOMINATION. THIS IS A MATTER OF THE HIGHEST SECRECY AND ONLY THOSE, WHO YOU DEEM AS ABSOLUTELY NEEDING TO BE IN THE KNOW ON THIS MATTER, ARE TO BE TOLD ANYTHING. ANY BREAKING OF THIS CODE OF SECRECY IS TO BE PUNISHED WITH IMMEDIATE TERMINATION.

Entry #6:

March 16th, 2194

USS Nebulus

Orbiting the planet LV-212

They say that for every fifteen days you're in stasis, it takes you an extra day to recover from it. One thing is how if fucks with your mind to know that 2 and a half months have passed in what feels like seconds to you, another thing is how sore you feel, since you haven't used any of your muscles for so long. No muscle pain can live up to the pain in my head over what I was forced by circumstances to do however, and I guess it's time, I told you my story.

My parents are what you call planetary engineers. You know those atmosphere processors, they set up to create breathable atmospheres on uninhabitable planets? Well, my folks are basically among those who get called in to fix them, in case one of them breaks down or is on the verge to. This also meant that (with the exception of the few times that me and my brother Dwayne were brought along) we were more or less raised by the officers and teachers on the space station we lived on, as much or more, than we were by them. Not that it's anything to cry over or that it made us special from the other kids on there, but it's also why I never felt like I got to know them, like I wanted to. Dwayne was supposed to take care of me and when I look back on it, he did the best he could under the circumstances, until he signed up to join the Marine Corps, when I was 11 years old. Since then, I've seen him one time, when he came back on a week's leave a few years later, but he's as much of a stranger to me, as those who gave life to me are. I sincerely hope that he's not dead, it's not like that, but apart from that, I rarely think about him. As for my parents, I doubt that they've been told the truth about what happened to me and the rest of the 491st Infantry Brigade, I was a proud part of. Weyland/Yutani never would have become the giant that it is, unless they were masters at hiding their own shortcomings.

By the time I was done with my basic training, the war against the Syndicate had been raging for over five years and cost hundreds of thousands of lives already, while having grown to span more than twenty planets. It was one of these, a depressing desert world mainly known for it's enormous dust storms called LV-89, that me and my unit were assigned to. The reason why it's considered so important to both sides are the minerals to be mined there however, and in spite of us being outnumbered two to five and the other side having close to complete air supremacy over that part of the planet, we were told to hold our base at any cost. In case you're not in-line with the Weyland/Yutani lingo, that means "Fight Until the Last Man is Dead, or You Will All Be Executed for Treason".

Nothing they taught us in basic training though, could have prepared us for the devastating power of the supersonic bombs, they would dump on us in what seemed like it was never-ending barrage at times. Among the first to fall were the senior officers, most of whom were so dedicated to the army edict that "A Senior Officer Has to Stand as an Idol of Bravery for His or Her Soldiers", that they also forgot to jump for cover, when a bomb was about to land on their heads. After a few days, it became a running joke that anyone, who survived a day in the job deserved a special medal. Me, being a mere Junior Sergeant, was perhaps 25th or 30th in line to take command, when we arrived there, but with every day that passed, a painful truth became clearer to me all of the time: Either I was going to die very soon or eventually, I would end up as the Captain of what everyone could see was a rapidly sinking ship, where the just as rapidly shrinking amount of passengers were being forced under penalty of death, to stay on board until the bitter end. Which of the two scared me the most, is hard to say.