Murder Drones: Perfect Organism | Aliens Vs. Murder Drones

Chapter 10

As the crew of the UAS O'Bannon gathered in the mess hall, the atmosphere crackled with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. Davis, the seasoned Company Man, stood at the head of the table, his expression grave as he addressed the mercenaries.

"Alright, listen up, folks," Davis began, his voice cutting through the din of the bustling mess hall. "We're approaching Copper-9, and I don't need to remind you of the gravity of our mission."

Chau, her fingers flying over a holographic display, chimed in. "We're entering the planet's atmosphere in approximately twenty minutes. I've run a scan of the surface—minimal atmospheric interference, but plenty of subzero temperatures."

Coleman, his brow furrowed in concentration, inspected the mechanisms of his rifle with meticulous care. "Cold won't be a problem. My gear's insulated enough to withstand the depths of space."

Fischer lounged back in her chair, a devil-may-care grin playing on her lips. "Guess I'll just have to keep warm by setting the Xenos on fire, huh?"

Henick, his drawl thick with southern charm, chuckled. "Don't get too cocky, darlin'. Them bugs ain't known for playin' nice."

Davis nodded, his gaze sweeping over the assembled crew. "Remember, people, these Xenomorphs are the deadliest creatures in the galaxy. One wrong move, and we're all toast. Literally."

Cameron, his voice a low rumble, spoke up from the corner of the room. "And if one of those bastards gets hold of you, don't hesitate to put a bullet in your own head. It's better than lettin' 'em use you as an incubator."

The gravity of Cameron's words hung heavy in the air, a somber reminder of the dangers they faced. Around the table, the mercenaries exchanged wary glances, the weight of their mission bearing down on them like a leaden shroud.

With a collective nod of understanding, the crew fell silent, their minds focused on the perilous task ahead. As the UAS O'Bannon hurtled towards its destination, each member of the crew steeled themselves for the battle to come, their resolve unwavering in the face of impending danger.

* * *

As J and Tessa trudged through the desolate wasteland of Copper-9, the icy wind howled around them, carrying with it an eerie sense of foreboding. The ruins of the once-thriving city loomed in the distance, their jagged silhouettes casting long shadows in the fading light.

With each step, the crunch of snow beneath their feet echoed through the silent landscape, a stark contrast to the chaos that had engulfed this forsaken world. J's thoughts drifted to their elusive quarry, a puzzle waiting to be solved amidst the frozen ruins.

The voice in J's head whispered cryptic directions, guiding them deeper into the heart of darkness. Tessa, ever the scientist, studied their surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, her keen eyes scanning for any sign of life.

At last, they reached the crash site of the shuttle, its twisted metal hull a grim reminder of the dangers that lurked within. The air grew thick with tension as they entered the shadowy interior, the flashlight Tessa produced was cutting through the darkness like beacons of hope in a sea of despair.

The sight that greeted them was chilling. Doll's motionless form lay cocooned in resin, a haunting reminder of the horrors that had unfolded within these walls. Tessa's breath caught in her throat, her scientific curiosity warring with the visceral dread that clawed at her insides.

J, ever the pragmatist, wasted no time in examining their surroundings, her sharp optics searching for clues amidst the wreckage. It was then that she spotted something out of place, a discarded husk lying on the ground, its alien texture sending a shiver down her metal spine.

"What's this?" Tessa's voice broke the silence, her eyes widening with curiosity as she peered over J's shoulder.

J held up the shedded skin, its grotesque form illuminated by the harsh glow of the flashlight. "Looks like some sort of exoskeleton, boss," she murmured, her mind racing with possibilities. "Whatever shed this is growing, that's for sure."

Tessa's mind whirled with excitement, what J assumed as her scientific curiosity ignited by the mystery before them. Together, they examined the enigmatic artifact, their thoughts consumed by the tantalizing prospect of the recent discovery.

* * *

As the dropship descended towards the icy surface of Copper-9, the mercenaries braced themselves for the mission ahead. Sinise's quips filled the air, his humor serving as a welcome distraction from the impending danger.

"Express elevator straight to hell, going down," Sinise declared with a grin, earning a round of chuckles from his comrades. Davis, ever the stoic company man, simply nodded in acknowledgment, unfazed by the banter.

Sinise, known for his irreverent sense of humor, leaned back in his seat with a grin and continued. "You know, I've always wanted to visit a frozen wasteland. It's like a vacation, but with more death."

Davis, the ever-stoic company man, raised an eyebrow. "Let's focus on the task at hand, shall we? We're not here for sightseeing."

Johnston, a seasoned veteran with a penchant for sarcasm, chuckled. "Oh come on, Davis. Where's your sense of adventure? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to freeze our asses off on an alien planet."

"Hey guys, what's the difference between snow men and snow women?" Palms asked his comrades. "Snow balls."

Johnston couldn't resist turning her jokes to a different target, though. "Looks like Whistler here is about to experience his first taste of action," she teased, nudging the new recruit playfully.

Whistler, though visibly nervous, tried to maintain his composure, knowing he had to prove himself to the seasoned veterans. Paulson, sensing the tension, intervened with a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Easy there, Johnston. We were all greenhorns once," Paulson remarked, casting a knowing glance around the dropship. "Whistler's got this."

As the dropship touched down on the frozen terrain below, the crew prepared to disembark, their weapons at the ready. Cameron, Kim, Chau, and Singh grabbed flamethrowers, their fiery arsenal poised to incinerate any threat.

Sinise, Paulson, and Williams armed themselves with smart guns, their precision and firepower unmatched in the hands of skilled marksmen. Henick opted for a shotgun, its reassuring weight providing a sense of security in the face of uncertainty.

"Why the bloody hell would you pick a shotgun for a Xenomorph?" Davis asked when he spotted Henick unslinging it.

"I like to keep it handy," Henick said, cocking the gun and chambering a slug. "For close encounters."

The rest of the crew, armed with pulse rifles, stood ready to face whatever dangers lurked in the shadows of Copper-9's frozen wasteland. With each step they took onto the desolate surface, the tension in the air grew palpable.

Davis, ever the voice of reason, reminded the team of the mission objectives and the importance of staying vigilant. Despite their bravado, each mercenary felt the weight of their task bearing down on them as they ventured into the unknown.