Number: 39 Title: When Will He Learn Type: Fan fiction x-over Action, action, ACTION! ---------- Synopsis: ---------- Old Dave, female James as Arcana, arrive on LV-426 and tangle with the xenomorphs. ---------- Scenes: ---------- Ripley couldn't tell what was worse. The electrical storm, the atmospheric generator slowly going critical, and not to forget the horade of bloodthirsty alien killing machines waiting to tear her, Newt, and the Colonial Marines to shreds were all pretty bad, but hallicinations now weren't an option. "Hicks, I am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?" She said, pointing a screen that showed an external monitor. The grunt was at her side almost without a sound, looking at the same monitor. "It can't be, but I see them too." Two people stood at the front blast doors in the rain. The first was a short girl with black hair that was a mess. She wore a heavy black trench coat that looked like it was suited to the rain, though. The other figure was wearing a drab brown robe and had impeccable hair, also quite unaffected by the rain. He was half leaning on a tall staff, talking to the girl. "Well, can we just leave them out there. I mean, with all the aliens?" Hicks looked at Ripley. It was like a moment of mental telepathy. "No. Should we get them now?" "They're inside." Hicks blinked. "Where'd they go? Try the internal monitors." "I am. I can't find them anywhere." "We're right here." The pair jumped a foot clean off the ground, and two automatic rifles were leveled at the unexpected visitors a split-second later. "Whoa." Said the girl. "Time to switch to decaf." "Who the Hell are you?" Hicks said, looking over the dripping wet arrivals. The two looked at each other, then answered. "Arcana." "Dave." "That's it?" Ripley asked, fingering the safety on her rifle. "Well, we kinda gave up our last names a while back." Arcana said, gesturing for effect. "And how did you get here?" Asked Hicks. The girl answered again, which seemed to displease Dave. Arcana's tone was like a real estate agent. "We were looking for a vacation spot. We found this place instead, complete with thermonuclear radiation signatures, so we stopped by to check the place out. Fantasic place. Love the lighting effects, but this little out of control reactor will have to go, definitely. What?" "Okay." Hicks said slowly. "Then how did you get inside, past the barricades?" "Trade secret. Oh, you did want those closed, right?" "Yeah." Ripley answered, shouldering her rifle. "That would be nice." The two arrivals looked worried. "Well, Arcana, looks like you messed up again." She snapped her fingers. "Shoot." Hicks set the safety on his rifle and pointed it at the ceiling. "What did you do?" Arcana answered before Dave could stop her. "Cut it apart." Ripley put her head in her hands. Dave folded his arms and said to himself, "Open mouth, insert foot." "You cut," Hicks deadpanned. "the barrier apart." "Was that a bad thing?" "Want a shovel?" Dave asked. "You're not helping." Hicks turned to Ripley. "Now what?" "Hey, what's the problem?" Arcana asked. "The aliens." Ripley answered. "Oro?" Dave put his head in his hands. After the explanation had gone around, with much back-tracking, side-tracking, and general confusion on Arcana's part, Ripley left post-haste to check up on the youngest member of the suvivors. Arcana turned to Dave to talk strategy and weapons while the other two Marines came back. "Great. We're down to three starburst grenades, useless in a space like this, and a tac-nuke, which is utterly pointless in close quarters combat." Dave commented after checking his and Arcana's weapons. "I still have my sword, and you have the Staff." "A knife and a stick are gonna stop a hundred six foot tall wall-walking, man-eating, armor-plated, acid-for-blood with TWO sets of teeth aliens in under fifteen minutes WITHOUT detonating the equivilent of a thermonuclear weapon with our ki?" "It'll be fun, Dave. It's our vacation after all." While the Gods prayed for a levity, the author cackled, adding just a dash of meglomania for flavor. ---------- Carter J. Burke, consultant and special operations director for Weiland Yanni Group, was pacing back and forth in front of the arrivals with an air of insurmountable skepticism mere minutes later. "Now let me get this straight. You're saying you two are prepared to take out the entire infestation with a sword and a staff between you?" "The longer we talk, the uglier this is going to be." "You do know what these things are capable of, right?" "Perfectly, Mr. Burke. Now, if you'll let us get to our work..." Arcana, her teeth beginning to grind audibly. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Note from the author: This sucks. I'll leave in the above bit for interested parties (what interested parties? -Ed.) and start anew from here. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- If there was one thing LV-426 was well-known for, it was the rain. The atmosphere, thick with the stink of carbon dioxide and methane, but breathable, gave birth to an almost continuous storm that raged over the planet's surface. In fifty years or so, the weather would calm and the wilderness of lava rock worn smooth by the powerful wind and rain would become a primative paradise. For now, that distant paradise was a seething hell of biarre rock formations covered in a sheen of slick alakine chemicals. Traversing any chunk of the planet on foot was extremely difficult at best, outright lethal at worst. But, if one was careful, they could survive. One person out in this wilderness was doing just that. She short, slim, a woman most would call 'petite.' Her bustline seemed somewhat large on a woman of her height, but the added weight did not seem to bother her. Her arms, poking our from underneath a thick vest of body armor, were thick with muscle and darkly tanned.