Alien: Revelation | Aliens Vs. Murder Drones 3

14

J half-dragged, half-shoved Hecate into the docking station, her HUD display confirming that there were still twenty minutes before the self-destruct sequence would blow the entire facility into oblivion. She felt a flicker of hope—a rare spark in this increasingly hopeless nightmare. The Xenomorph from earlier seemed to be gone; at least the docking station was empty, save for the quiet hum of machinery and the persistent, low drone of the alarm.

"Finally," J muttered, clambering into the pilot’s seat. "Let's get out of here."

The hope, however, was short-lived. The second she touched the controls, she saw the panel was warped, half-melted from the Xenomorph’s acid blood. Buttons fused, circuits mangled and blackened, the ship was nothing more than a hunk of useless metal. Her fists clenched, her jaw tightened, and within seconds, her frustration reached critical mass.

“Are you kidding me?” she roared, slamming her fists into the already destroyed controls. “I go through all this crap, fight off nightmares, almost get my head ripped off, just to find out this stupid ship is fried?! Damn the poorly made, quality lacking fragility of Weyland-Yutani products!”

She yanked a chunk of melted wiring from the panel and flung it across the cabin, ignoring Hecate’s wide-optic'd look as she stomped her foot into the control panel. Every slam, every curse, felt cathartic—until Hecate cleared her throat.

“Um, J?” she said cautiously, sounding far too calm given the circumstances. “There’s another ship. Remember?”

J paused, breathing hard, fury still simmering beneath the surface, but she let her gaze flick to Hecate. The kid was right. There was another ship docked nearby. J took a shaky breath, then exhaled slowly, forcing herself to calm down.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Other ship,” she muttered. “Come on, kid, we’re not dead yet.”

The two of them sprinted across the docking station, weaving around scattered debris and destroyed equipment until they reached the other ship. This one was a sleek model, with newer, polished exterior panels that practically screamed “stolen from the military.” They reached the entrance, and J felt a flicker of genuine relief as she stepped inside. Finally, salvation.

As J slid into the pilot’s seat, she felt a pang of excitement, imagining herself pulling away from this doomed station, flames licking up behind them as they soared into the void. But that excitement quickly faded as she scanned the control panel and her mind went blank.

She knew nothing about these controls. None of the buttons, switches, or displays matched anything she’d trained on, and there were no handy labels or intuitive layouts to save her. She ran a hand over the controls, but it was like trying to read a foreign language she’d never seen before.

"You have got to be kidding me," she muttered, the panic clawing its way back up her throat. She sat back, looking around, feeling that horrible sinking sensation return. All this, and they were stranded because she didn’t know how to fly the damn thing.

Just then, the echo of hurried footsteps broke through her frustrated haze. She whipped her head around, peering out of the ship's cockpit. Two figures emerged from the smoke and shadows: Nori and Hicks, the latter leaning heavily on Nori’s shoulder. Hicks looked battered, his face tight with pain, his shirt soaked in blood around a makeshift bandage wrapped hastily around his side. He grimaced as he walked, but he was holding his own.

J scrambled out of the cockpit and waved her arms. "Over here!" she called, her voice cutting through the noise of the alarms and the distant rumble of the station's failing systems.

The two staggered toward her, and the second they stepped aboard, Hecate practically launched herself at Nori.

"Are my parents okay?!" she asked, her voice a frantic whisper, optics hollow and pleading. J watched Nori’s expression soften, a flash of sympathy cutting through her usual stoic expression. Nori knelt down, hands resting on Hecate’s shoulders, her face serious but steady.