Archive-name: Fantasy/closrenc.txt

Archive-author: Brian Foster

Archive-title: Closer Encounters 



Based on "Alien" and "Aliens"



 Three dreamers, and one to whom dreaming was an abstract theory, rested in 

individual protective cocoons within the heavy military transport, Sulaco, 

hurtling through space on its return path to Earth. 

 An observer on the control deck would have seen only the brightest stars 

through the ghostly blue corona surrounding the ship, emitted as a byproduct 

of the Hyperdrive unit. Occasionally a star came close enough that 

appreciable movement in its position could be seen in a few minutes at the 

speed they were travelling. 

 This was a far cry from the way the very first interstellar settlers had 

departed Earth, in slow-moving spaceborne cities knowing they wouldn't live 

to see their chosen world. Their Children or even Grandchildren would finally 

arrive and start a life initially no better than that they had left. 

 The discovery of Hyperdrive techniques reduced the once interminable voyage 

to a few months, and Hypersleep reduced this further, to a few minutes of 

dreams. The floating cities were evacuated barely a decade after departure, 

and left to drift as they weren't economic to upgrade. 

 

 The technology surrounding the dreamers was the last thing on their minds. 

The thoughts of all three were very similar, even if their philosophies 

weren't. A mixture of relief at escape from raw horror, sadness, anger at the 

unnecessary deaths of friends, and apprehension for the future. 

 The last thing that went through Ripleys mind before enforced sleep overtook 

her was that a formal inquiry awaited them when they got back, her second, 

and this time the facts couldn't be papered over. Those smug Interstellar 

Company heads who had presided over her sham hearing couldn't cover this one 

so easily. They weren't talking about a few freighter jockeys with few or no 

family ties to Earth this time, it was all except two of an entire colony and 

a squad of troopers. All recorded in full color by the Sulacos automatic 

recorders, with three other undeniable witnesses to back her up in case the 

tapes were "erased". 

 Newts thoughts were of her lost family and friends. She hoped that Ripley 

and not her never-seen relatives on Earth could adopt her. Occasionally her 

peaceful expression in the Hypersleep chamber became tense at flashbacks of 

the losing battle by her Colony against the Aliens, followed by weeks of 

utmost silence to keep the nightmare away. She also had a measure of guilt to 

contend with... 

 Hicks, ever the soldier, was predictably thinking of his next posting. His 

Corporals badge would matter little to the battle-hardened hombres he would 

be slotted into. He would have to pierce their initial distrust of the 

newcomer in their midst with hard work and action to earn their respect, the 

way he had with Apone, Vasquez, Drake, Hudson "the loudmouth" and the others, 

now all dead. 

 Dead in action, as they'd all been prepared to go. But under the command of 

a freshman with a single combat mission under his belt, a Lieutenant at that, 

who froze at the crunch. Where the hell did an inexperienced Lieutenant come 

from in this Mercenary army? Something stank. He had the feeling they'd been 

fed to those goddamned... Things! For live specimens, as Burke had tried with 

Newt and Ripley? 

 Gormans proper course of action would have been to order the return of their 

ammunition and an immediate withdrawal the moment the first part of Ripleys 

hitherto unbelieved story was vindicated. Not that taking their ammo had been 

necessary in the first place. A "make safe all weapons, no firing unless 

attacked" order would have been adequate. Instead, he had chosen to insult 

their combat-proven ability. 

 Money over Men? Preserve the station at all costs? Perhaps his seeming 

ignorance was more like following company policy to the letter. 

 A soldier NEVER officially questions a superior's worthiness of his rank, 

but he wasn't going to rest on this one. He had a measure of rage to work out 

as soon as he was able. 

 

 For now, sluggish dreams, each moment dragging out for minutes of real time 

while the Ship monitored itself and its fragile occupants. 

 

 Several weeks after departing Acheron orbit, an undistinguished yellow star 

appeared directly ahead. This one didn't move aside when the ship approached, 

it stayed there, glowing brighter by the minute. Abruptly the blue hyperdrive 

corona switched off, leaving the ship almost stationary about 2 solar system 

radii away. 

 Immediately the main drive activated to continue the approach to Earth at a 

more manageable pace, while the Sulaco began transmitting its status and 

that of its occupants to the bored Gateway station traffic controllers and 

customs people. And several very expectant company officials... 

 

 Ripleys first action on waking was to check the ship status panel opposite. 

A prominent green light showed instead of the half-expected yellow security 

light. Good, no unexpected surprises to contend with this time. 

 They were home. She could pick up her promised Flight Officers certification 

and contract and be back plying the freightways. Or she could remain on 

Gateway with her new job and raise Newt as her own. Either way, she'd stay 

out of the Companys hair so long as they didn't tread on her toes. She'd 

seen enough Company property destroyed lately to satisfy her thirst for 

revenge, and the coming inquiry would throw a permanent little spanner in 

their works. 

 

 Ripley detached herself from the Hypersleep monitors and stepped out of the 

protective cocoon. Whether occupied or not, all had opened to release their 

waking occupants. She tried to ignore the line of empty sarcophogii that 

should have held Hick's vaporized soldiers as she helped Newt out. 

 "Wakey wakey, honey. We're home." 

 "Mommy?" 

 "Yes, Newt. Time to get up." 

 "At Earth?" 

 "Uh, huh." 

 "Whats Earth like? My parents told me they left because there were too many 

people and it smelled too bad." 

 "That used to be true, but it's been cleaned up in the last few years. A lot 

of people have left to colonies, like your parents did." 

 And that was the first good thing the company ever did, she mused. They made 

their money though. The healthiest people were targeted by advertising 

encouraging them to move to the colonies. A sizable portion of the 

population voluntarily did so to escape the mess, and unwittingly help expand 

the Companys empire. In return they strip-mined large parts of the planet to 

extract every rock of viable mineral they could find, planted trees over the 

holes and pretended they were Earths saviours. What a joke. The Gaia 

theorists reckoned Earths environment had been about to select against 

mankind, when the Company scientists saw it coming and acted to save their 

own skins. 

 

 "Do you have a family, down there?" 

 "A long time ago, yes. I had a daughter about your age." Ripley looked sad 

at the memory. She left her 11 year old daughter, Amy, promising to return 

for her 12th Birthday. Instead, she died of old age two years before Ripley 

was picked up by a range spanner at the edge of explored space. 

 "Did you lose your family, the way I did?" 

 "I suppose you could say I did. I'll tell you about it another time." When 

the wounds were better healed, she thought. 

 

 Newt still looked like she was carrying half of Archerons dirt on her 

clothing and body. Brown hair, brown eyes on a fragile looking 11 year old 

frame looked back at her from the capsule. Hidden within was enough strength 

to survive much worse than she had. Kids have an amazing ability to recover 

and deal with bad memories, given time and patience. Hopefully she wouldn't 

be plagued by the nightmare, as she had. 

 Bishop had shut down all nonessential systems to prevent his remaining vital 

fluids escaping from the massive wound he'd sustained. She'd let the tech 

boys take care of him, there was nothing she could do. 

 Ripley paused to admire Hicks. Sleep smoothed the hardened features and 

robbed him of his tough Marine outlook, turning him into the handsome young 

man he was. For a moment he reminded her of another young man in another 

time, before she shook off the memory. Did he have a lady awaiting his return 

somewhere? If there was, she was a very very lucky Woman, she thought. 

 

 Ripley and Newt showered together before Ripley scrounged some food for the 

two of them from the automatic dispensers. Yuk - military food - she felt 

that every joke she'd ever heard about it was true. Maybe even the rumours 

about bromides. Newt didn't grizzle, she'd survived on little more than raw 

vitamins during her nightmare sojourn in the bowels of the Colony. 

 

 The two of them strode to the Control deck to watch the final approach to 

Earth and the docking procedures. Newt was spellbound by her first sight of 

Earth looming up ahead. The blue-brown globe was about a quarter full as the 

Sulaco approached under its own power and guidance. 

 Even with 60 years evolution in Starship controls, Ripley had recognized 

enough to set the Sulaco on her return journey and bring her in on automatic. 

All she had to do was allow the station computer to guide her in. 

 On Gateway station, one of the two traffic controllers had just come on duty 

when the Sulaco appeared on monitor. Their job was largely Automatic, 

checking remote sensor reports of activity around the system and alerting 

Customs to irregularities. They considered themselves almost outdated, and 

might have been insulted if they had known how true this was. As it was, they 

sometimes barely managed to come up with enough paperwork and reports to 

convince management of the need for their job. The argument that Human backup 

was needed won the day whenever the job came up for review, but that wasn't 

likely to last forever. 

 Shortly the Sulaco's automatic report arrived. Alice checked it against the 

expected one, and gave a low whistle of disbelief. Eleven missing crew - wow! 

There'd be some good gossip today. The normal procedure was to return 

military dead to Earth for burial in hibernation to prevent further decay. 

That way inquisitive station controllers couldn't tell the status of the 

crew. Colonial army death rates were classified documents. 

 

 She had just reported the discrepancy when the two men walked uninvited into 

the cubicle behind her. 

 "How long until the Sulaco arrives?", an Authoritive voice asked. 

 She turned to inspect the newcomers. Two men in neatly pressed suits 

disdainfully regarded her, a little like how scientist examines an insect, 

she felt. 

 "Thirty minutes.... Do you have permission to be here? This is a restricted 

area." 

 "We're with Company administration. Is that enough for you?" 

 The second newcomer strode over to inspect the Electronic report. 

 "Eleven missing, nothing on the condition of the rest." 

 The first intruder thought that over, then came to a decision. 

 "Bring that ship to a halt 10 kilometers away. Do not, I repeat, do not, 

allow a boarding party to enter it, and open a communication line." 

 "This is highly irregular, can I ask why?", she replied. 

 "Official company business. If it concerns you, you'll find out about it. 

Now... would you two Ladies step outside for a minute, please?" 

 "Sir, It's a major breach of regs to leave ship control unattend...." 

 "I said 'please'. May I remind you that the Company is paying your wages? 

Kindly leave the room." 

 They recognized a direct order when they heard one. The door closed behind 

them, making a soundproof seal. 

 "That guy has a very big carrot up his arse" Josie said to Alice. Alice 

quietly agreed, and joined her friend in regarding the corridor. 

 

 Newt, always the quick one, noticed the pulsing Red "APPROACH HELD" light 

appear before Ripley did. 

 "Ripley, what does this mean?", she asked. 

 "Someones held us up." She frowned, unable to think of any reason to do so. 

There wasn't any emergency nearby, and no other ship within a thousand 

kilometers. 

 Static crackled for a moment as a comm screen activated on reception of the 

incoming signal. Blackness, then the face swung into view. 

 Now what? 

 "Ripley...." he recognized her. She'd never seen him before. "Do you or any 

of the other three have a.... medical condition?" 

 "Is that why you stopped us?" She looked incredulous. "Thats for 

Customs..." 

 "Just answer the question, thank you." 

 What the dickens was going on? This dickhead wasn't anything to do with 

traffic control... The Company! 

 

 "No, we don't have a sample of your fucking Alien! You can tell your boss 

that the Colony, the Alien ship, everything was destroyed along with your 

precious samples. I'll see you at the Inquiry, and I'm going to see your 

precious Companys ass fry! You hear me!" 

 For a timeless moment, outraged and shaking Ripley and a wide eyed official 

stared into each others eyes, before he pulled the plug without another word. 

 The two strangers left the cubicle and swept past the bemused controllers 

waiting outside, who shortly released the Sulaco to complete its docking. 

They were long gone by the time the Ship arrived. 

 

 * * * * * * 

 

 Hicks awoke in the Hospital with a start. The movement brought back the 

searing pain of multiple acid burns on his forehead and Chest. All he could 

see was a few Biomonitor instrument lights and a moving, dimly lit cloud deck 

outside the viewport. His first thought was that he had been left behind in 

the dark tunnels of Archeron, then he realised he was in a bed. The clouds 

were hundreds of kilometers below the orbiting station. As he watched, a 

lightning flash momentarily illuminated a portion of the distant cloud bank. 

 As his eyes adjusted to the dark he made out details of the room. A water 

purifier, a dripfeed hanger (thankfully not in use, he hated injections), his 

personal effects neatly hung in the tiny wardrobe, the dimly lit Nurse pager. 

 He was still groggy from Bishops much needed painkiller injection. The 

aftereffects would leave him shortly, not that he was in much condition to 

move in any case. Like any Colonial soldier, he wouldn't readily admit to 

needing rest. A day or two with a lovely Nurse for company wasn't above his 

pride however, and he needed time to collect his thoughts. 

 For now, time to rest. The last thing he saw before the first natural sleep 

in months was the spiderlike lights of a city starting to roll past the 

window. 


 

 Another time, another place. Another dark room. He was inspecting the brand 

new Corporals stripe officially awarded a few hours before they were let 

loose on Arcturius for a few days furlough. It was no extra weight, but it 

was gold to him. Not that he really needed it with his fellow soldiers, he'd 

earned their respect by always being in the right spot when needed. He'd 

saved two of their lives in tight spots through no fault of their own, so 

he'd been proud enough not to tell anyone. But the camera relay captured it 

all as always, and he'd had to suffer the indignity of seeing his name in the 

next official dispatch. 

 He undressed and neatly hung up the uniform before putting on the casual off 

duty attire. Tomorrow he'd see the sights of the town with the other 

troopers, and rage it up with the women who gravitated towards military 

uniforms. 

 

 Arcturius was an unofficial military R&R planet, full of all the goodies 

off-duty soldiers headed for the moment their fat paychecks and rare slack 

time arrived. The resulting wild scenes often went down in folklore, to be 

told and retold (and altered) until they were unrecognizable to those 

responsible when they returned. 

 The initial survey ships to Arcturius had found a planet with an atmosphere 

and climate close to that of Earth. No intelligent native species or 

particularly nasty alien disease was found so the world was readily 

colonised. Biologists and Zoologists swarmed over the planet for years, 

studying and classifying its works of evolution. 

 As always on new Worlds, curiosities were found. Like the tree officially 

named 'Agathis Australis' after the most similar Earthbound tree, whose 

tissue most closely resembled that of muscle. It seemed not to be attacked by 

any insect whatsoever, and its wood proved very tough and weather resistant, 

hence ideal for building materials. 

 The Biologists labeled it 'odd' and promptly forgot about it. It was a 

farmer who grew a line of them for use as a fenceline who discovered its 

most remarkable property. A fence whose supports were hammered into the tree 

was flat on the ground in the morning. Intrigued, the farmer found the trees 

had literally spat out the nails and healed overnight, leaving barely a 

trace. Biologists quickly discovered that tissue movement forced out anything 

that penetrated, explaining its resistance to insect attack. 

 Promptly someone thought of drilling a hole into it and inserting his 

paddywhacker, becoming the first to experience the sensations of the 'Pussy 

tree', as it became known. For a while it was an initiation rite for some 

soldiers to bring the newest member of their unit to a suitable specimen. 

 Hicks was lucky, his unit had given up this embarrassing practice long 

before he signed on the dotted line. 

 

 He was musing over this and other curiosities of Arcturius, when the 

diffident knocking on the door took him by surprise. Who was it at this time 

of night? 

 "Yes?" 

 "Room service. The drinks you ordered, Sir." 

 What drinks? He hadn't ordered any. Whose idea of a joke was this? 

 He opened the door to sort the problem out. Eight very familiar faces stared 

back. 

 "You didn't think we were going to let you spend your first night as a 

Corporal alone, did you?", said Drake. They laughed. He knew that laugh. 

 

 "Gettim!" 

 

 Eight pairs of strong arms took hold and half dragged, half carried him to 

the misappropriated Taxi waiting outside. The locals must hate Colonial 

marines, he thought. 

 "It's party time! The whole towns gonna know we're here!" shouted an 

obviously half-drunk Hudson, to a chorus of whoops and yells. 

 "Take us to the worst place in the city", said Drake. 

 "Oh man, you don't wanna go there! No fare is worth going to that place!", 

said the nervous driver. 

 "Don't worry, we'll leave you at the Checkpoint", he replied, holding up a 

fistful of Military scrip easily worth five times its face value on the 

local Black market. 

 "Okay man, you got it", the driver said, looking a whole lot happier. 

 A few minutes later they were at the yellow and black brightly lit barrier 

manned 24 hours by two armed, grim faced Military Policemen. Beyond was a 

poorly lit paved stone street. Movement and music was discernible ahead. 

 They paid off the driver, who quickly disappeared the way he'd come. 

 "Now, you boys aren't going in there, are you?", asked the more 

senior-looking MP of the approaching soldiers. 

 "Surely we are, Sir", Hudson drawled back in his Southern accent as they 

trudged past. 

 "Enter at your own risk", the MP simply replied. He didn't have time to 

argue with off duty Marines. He'd find out soon enough if they bit off more 

than they could chew in that place. 

 

 Dimly visible figures regarded the little group that ventured into their 

area. Looking Mean and Evil was one thing some of the Soldiers practiced long 

and hard at, and consequently they were very good at it. None of the watchers 

ventured more than a look after them. 

 Shortly they reached the better lit area and discretely sized up their 

surroundings. Loud music thumped from the entrances to obviously very seedy 

establishments along the street. Scantily clad women of all ages and 

appearances walked slowly and suggestively up and down their patch in pairs, 

a short distance apart from each other for safety. Some were discussing 

business with men. Several heavily drugged men and women were staggering 

around. Silhouetted by distant lights, another addict was openly injecting 

himself with his choice of Narcotic. Hawkers were pushing little sealed foil 

packets of drugs among the less reputable looking people around. 

 

 "A Septic spot on the arse of this Planet", was all Wierzbowski had to say. 

"The tourist brochures choice." someone added. 

 "Perfect for the three off-duty offences. Excessive drinking, brawling and 

sex", Drake replied. 

 

 Crowe found what he was looking for. 

 "Hey, Hudson, you're the one whos been saying he wanted some Arcturian 

Poontang. Well, try that girl over there." 

 He indicated a slim, nice looking girl standing near an entranceway. Never 

one to refuse a dare, Hudson approached her and whispered something into her 

ear. She nodded. 

 "Don't forget to sample the goods first!", Crowe called out. 

 Hudson put his hand under the girls dress, and discovered..... a pair of 

Balls. A deafening peal of laughter issued forth from his fellow Soldiers as 

Hudson reeled back in shock. 

 "Gotchyer!" Crowe howled back. 

 "That wasn't funny, man!", he said as he stumbled back to the comparative 

safety of the squad, accompanied by a few last guffaws. 

 

 "The Outlaw bar", Drake said, indicating a discreet entrance partway up the 

street. "The perfect place to initiate our new Corporal." 

 The thunderous music nearly deafened the nine of them as they entered the 

most infamous stripjoint in this Red light area. "Entry is five credits 

tonight", the large Bouncer with the busted nose and no-nonsense expression 

gruffly said after quickly looking them up and down. 

 They took up position near the elevated dance floor while the first round of 

drinks was ordered and delivered by a slim topless waitress, who seemed to 

ignore the almost continual handling of her Breasts by the patrons. 

 Onstage was the regular parade of strippers, mostly bored looking, unsmiling 

young women. On every table was a small collection of vibrators and dildoes 

for use on the women when they finally ended up naked and wandered among the 

audience to sit briefly, legs spread, on each table in turn to be groped, 

probed and manhandled by the beaver-eager crowd. 

 The Marines were above that sort of behaviour, but cheered on each girl who 

splayed herself on their table. The waitress accepted their invitation to sit 

and have a few drinks with them when she went off duty. 

 As they watched, a man couldn't restrain himself any longer and whipped out 

his cock prior to screwing the girl on his table. Bad move. Two bouncers 

materialized and dragged him from sight. The nearer patrons fancied they 

could hear the blows and screams prior to ejecting him from the joint. 

 

 A few of the Soldiers began a whispered dialogue with the Waitress while 

furtively glancing at Hicks. Soon she smiled and disappeared backstage for a 

minute. Hicks groaned when he saw the backstage curtains part a little as she 

pointed him out to someone. 

 The next girl, a pretty Brunette with a nice tan and the stage name 

'Danielle', came out and began her dance routine while two other ladies 

brought onstage a reclined chair like a psychiatrists couch, with a towel on 

it. 

 Upon completion of the first part of her act she walked offstage, made a 

beeline directly for Hicks, and half-dragged him by the arm onto the stage to 

the cheers of the crowd. 

 She lay back on the couch, legs spread wide for the audience, and handed 

Hicks what looked like a Hospital issue razor with a little protected 

electric trimmer. She didn't want him to do THAT, did she? He gulped. The 

crowd went wild when they realised what was coming. Some were almost in tears 

with jealousy. 

 She turned to Hicks with instructions. "Go slow and gentle. Don't push it. 

Start at the top and work down." 

 He turned it on and experimentally applied it to a few strands of the girls 

pubic hair. They came away without any fuss, leaving probably the smoothest 

after-shave skin he'd ever felt. The razor humming in his hand, he kneeled 

next to her and began shaving the girls hairy parts. White untanned skin was 

exposed as the strands of hair fell onto the towel. Careful not to miss any 

hairs, he worked his way across the Girls mound then down between her legs. 

The top of her slit became clearly visible, the dark skin contrasting against 

the now smooth white pubic triangle. He pushed the vagina lips aside with a 

finger before nuzzling in to catch every hair. This close, he could easily 

see the glistening pinkness within the Girls cunt. Judging from the obvious 

dampness, he guessed the gentle vibration was turning her on more than the 

probing fingers and vibrators she'd experienced so far this evening. 

 Finally he finished, and the two of them stood to thunderous applause. Hicks 

rejoined his friends while the Girl did her obligatory tour of the premises 

to let everyone see his handiwork. 

 

 About 1am they decided they had drunk and seen their fill for the evening, 

and were about to leave when the announcer came on again to proudly introduce 

"Their youngest attraction, the lovely Jasmine." 

 The soldiers were intrigued. Why had they held her back until this late in 

the evening? They might as well wait a while longer. The overloaded sound 

system went wild with the next tune, as 'Jasmine' walked onstage. 

 

 "Is this a joke?", Hicks wondered aloud. A ripple of excitement went through 

the crowd. Rough, sweaty hands took hold anew of the various probed 

instruments scattered around. The waitress sitting with them blanched and 

looked away. 

 'Jasmine' couldn't have been older than twelve. Shoulder length, almost 

black hair, no visible breasts through the T-shirt she was wearing. She 

hesitantly began a slow dance routine to the music and loud hooting from the 

crowd. 

 Hicks spotted the nearly invisible earplug in the girls left ear. The little 

waif was receiving instructions via radio, he realised. 

 Onstage, the Girl searched the Audience for a single friendly or familiar 

face. Not finding any, a tear rolled down her cheek at what was coming. She'd 

learned not to cry in the 3 days since being grabbed when she'd walked too 

close to this area. Crying invited laughter from the merciless crowd, and a 

beating afterwards. 

 

 Surprise turned to shock, then sheer outrage in Hicks mind. He looked away 

to his friends, who were rapidly forming the same idea. 

 "I'm not standing for this", he said quietly. 

 Their faces told him he had the support he needed for what he was thinking 

about. It was time to earn his badge. 

 One of the bunch of heavies crowded near the exit noticed the uncomfortable 

movements and expressions from the group of patrons near the stage. Their 

build and general demeanour throughout the evening marked them as Soldiers. 

He hated soldiers, they were the only real threat to their grip on the area. 

Threatening one was like lighting a fuse. Beat one up, and within an hour you 

could guarantee to have a hundred on your doorstep seeking retaliation. He 

signalled for the others to keep a close eye on them. 

 

 "On my count - Drake, Wierzbowski - grab the girl. The rest, make weapons. 

We're leaving", Hicks ordered. Frost suggested to the waitress that now was a 

good time to leave. She turned slightly pale and hurried away. 

 Onstage, the girl had received the next set of instructions from the unseen 

manager. Reluctantly she took hold of the white underwear and pulled them 

down, leaving her bottomless in front of hundreds of leering, expectant men. 

 

 "One!" 

 

 Another tear rolled down her cheek as the shouts and screams to "take the 

rest off" reverberated in her ears. 

 

 "Two!" 

 

 The girls eyes met those of the soldiers. The eyes spoke of concern and 

caring for her, something she didn't know existed any more. She stopped 

dancing for a moment before the earplug barked with the order to continue. 

 

 "Three!" 

 

 Two men sprang from the group and leapt onto the stage. They took hold of 

her by the arms. The girl screamed. With her weak strength, she tried to push 

them away. 

 "It's okay!" one shouted over the din. "We're Soldiers. We're getting you 

out of here. Put your clothes on." 

 Immediately they moved, the others stood up. Two took hold of the table in 

front of them and with one great heave broke the forward legs off for use as 

clubs. The collection of empty and part-full drinks on the table shattered 

onto the floor. 

 

 The music stopped. 

 

 Silence. What looked like a wall of toughs, fourty strong, advanced on the 

little group from the shadows. A few carried knives and clubs. 

 "You guys aren't leaving here with OUR girl", the one who seemed to be the 

leader said. "Or your pay packets!", another added. The others laughed. So 

did the Marines. 

 

 The onlookers got clear and averted their eyes. They didn't hear anything, 

and they absolutely goddamned didn't see anything.... 

 A great howling broke out. The sounds of heavy blows raining down. Screams 

and yells filled the confined space. 

 Something was wrong, one of the watchers decided. Where were the attempts to 

talk their way out, the resulting laughter, the attempt to escape before the 

inevitable bashing? He looked back to see what was happening. 

 It took the patron several seconds to register that the Soldiers had 

attacked the mob, not the other way around. The battle didn't last long. 

Trained and experienced Close quarter combat specialists verses Street 

toughs. No match. By various ways and means, mostly extremely painful, the 

odds against the soldiers were quickly whittled down. 

 Four forced Wierzbowski to his knees while a fifth prepared to start kicking 

him. Frosty stepped in with the Hammer he'd appropriated from another man 

before landing a Haymaker to shut him up. He swung it full force into one of 

the four standing mens kneecaps. The man collapsed howling, clutching his 

knee. The fight went out of the remainder after that. 

 The thugs still standing considered the shrunken odds and retreated sharply. 

Spunkmeyer scooped up the girl from under the table where she'd ducked for 

protection and slung her over his shoulder as the group made a hasty exit 

before reinforcements arrived. 

 Just in time. Men armed with a collection of weapons were pouring from side 

streets and entrances behind them as they ran for their lives. Nearly to the 

checkpoint. The MP's guarding it heard the commotion and were squinting into 

the near darkness when the little group sped into the light. 

 The MP's allowed them past before unslinging their Pulse-rifles and 

simultaneously chambering the first round then aiming into the path of the 

onrushing mob. They knew what that meant, and slowly backed off. 

 

 When it was safe to look away, the MP's turned to balefully regard the 

Soldiers. 

 "Now, what the fuck did you guys do...", one began. His voice trailed off 

when he saw the girl. "Christine... her name is Christine. She's been posted 

as missing for 3 days. Where did you find her?" The MP's were incredulous. 

 "The outlaw bar, Sir." 

 "You went to that place? You're crazier than I thought. I don't want to know 

what you thought you were doing by going there. Take her to the local Police, 

they can handle her. We'll take care of the Outlaw bar. And don't EVER return 

here, granted you want to live that is." 

 "You can count on it, Sir." 

 The MP's shook their heads sadly as they waved them off. Colonial marines - 

theres nothing crazier, they thought. 

 Oh sure, they'd be back someday. They didn't take kindly to not being 

allowed to go places. 

 They dropped the still-shaking girl off with the local Police before 

trudging through the streets for another twenty minutes before arriving at 

Hick's last stop for the night. 

 

 The Vapor lounge. Probably the highest class Cathouse in the town, set in 

the middle of a far more reputable Red light area. Two bouncers silently 

watched the group from the doorway as they each put 20 credits of Military 

scrip into the kitty for Hicks night. 

 They cheered Hicks as he passed through the entrance. He was on the verge of 

tears. You could search for lifetimes without finding loyalty like this, he 

thought. 

 "Bring back proof that you've been with one", someone shouted as he 

disappeared inside. 

 Outside the Vapor lounge, the group slowly dispersed to their lodgings for 

the night, leaving Crowe and Hudson alone. 

 

 "Okay Hudson, that was a bit mean of me earlier. I'll make it up for you. 

You see the girl at the corner there?" 

 Hudson found the indicated girl. Small breasts, slim legs, Asiatic features, 

early twenties, nice-looking as best as he could tell. She was presently 

looking sideways to them. He nodded. 

 "She's really nice, you'll like her. I went with her the last time out here. 

She gives real mean head, man." 

 "Done. See you shipside in two days, Crowe." 

 Crowe slapped him on the back of the shoulders before disappearing into the 

dark and the gathering mist. 

 Hudson approached the girl and propositioned her. Seemingly without looking 

him over properly, she accepted and led him up a nearby flight of stairs and 

unlocked her room at the top. 

 She looked straight at him for the first time. Hudson nearly puked. She had 

only one eye and no teeth. 

 Somewhere nearby, Crowe smiled to himself. 

 

 "Okay, you're clean", the bouncer said after a cursory patting-down for 

hidden weapons and taking the entrance fee. 

 "First time here?", the other asked. 

 Hicks nodded. 

 "Alright, the rules are simple. You choose the ladies you like, then if they 

like you, they'll come over. Do alright by them, and they'll do alright by 

you. Any rough stuff, and you'll regret it. Ok?" 

 Hicks nodded. 

 "Have a nice night", the bouncer smiled as he waved him through. 

 True to their word, it was a far more upmarket establishment. Conservatively 

dressed women were chatting amongst themselves or with potential clients over 

drinks. Occasionally one would lead a man to a discreet door in the shadows 

of the lounge. 

 Hicks indicated a stunning Redhead who took his immediate fancy and looked 

presently unattached, along with several other women, to the courteous waiter 

who asked if he'd like a drink or if he'd made his choice. 

 Several minutes later the Redhead sidled over and introduced herself as 

Michelle. He bought her a drink and they chatted idly for a while before she 

popped the invitation to come out the back with her. 

 As soon as the door of the tidy bedroom had closed behind them, Michelle was 

all business. She showed him her Health card, holographically imprinted with 

her photograph, todays date, and the signature of an independent Authority to 

the statement that she had tested negative to all known Venereal diseases. 

 After it was returned, she asked for his arm, and pressed a vacuum syringe 

against it to extract a minute sample of blood. 

 "Just routine", Michelle commented. 

 Hicks hardly felt the tiny jab. The sample was mixed with a solution before 

Michelle drew a line along a piece of paper with more than fifty coded lines 

along it, split into three groups. After a few seconds many turned Green 

where they'd been touched by the mixture. The remainder stayed blank. 

 "You're a Soldier, right? The green lines are what you've been innoculated 

against. If anything was positive, it'd show up red. Most people have only a 

few greens." 

 "What do the groupings stand for?", he wondered aloud. 

 "The first are the easily curable ones. If any was red, I'd still go with 

you but we'd use protection. The second are the drug resistant ones and the 

last are Incurable. You'd be out the door if any of those showed red." 

 Hicks smiled. It must be nice for the women to be able to pick and choose 

who they wanted and not have to worry whether a client was signing her Death 

warrant. He wondered how they were chosen for the establishment. 

 

 "You're one of the guys who trashed the Outlaw bar tonight, aren't you?", 

she suddenly asked. 

 Hicks became defensive, but answered to the positive. 

 "Don't worry", she replied smiling. "Word spreads fast around here. They've 

had it coming for a long time. The MP's couldn't touch them without proof, 

and you gave them that. Right now the whole area is being searched." 

 

 "Now lets see about those clothes..." She expertly undressed him before 

leading him to the shower. 

 When he returned, she dried him off, before asking "Whats his name?", 

pointing towards his cock. 

 "No name, sorry", Hicks replied, blushing. 

 "Okay, I'll call him George for the evening." 

 She indicated for him to lie on the bed, before switching on some music and 

giving him a long slow striptease, finally ending up completely naked, legs 

spread wide, while sitting on his legs just above the knees. 

 'George' was completely erect by this time. Hicks inspected the young womans 

sexual parts, knowing he was going to be allowed full access to them. The 

pouting lips of her slit stared back. 

 "I'm feeling a bit hungry, would you like something to eat?", she asked. 

 "Sure, I wouldn't mind something. I haven't eaten decent food for months." 

 Michelle put on a dressing gown before leaving the room. Hicks was in no 

hurry, the night was still young. He passed the time exploring the room, 

discovering the collection of equipment stored in the drawers for assorted 

sexual tastes. He had no doubt there was an electronic bug hidden somewhere 

for the Girls safety, but he didn't find it. 

 

 Wasn't she taking a little long? He wondered. He checked his watch, and 

discovered to his shock that Michelle had been gone for over twenty minutes. 

 Suddenly realising she had left him in the lurch after taking his money, 

Hicks cursed himself. Outraged at being ripped off so easily and callously, 

he collected Michelles clothes together in the rubbish bin, drew the 

rarely-used cigarette lighter from his trousers and started burning each item 

separately. 

 The room rapidly filled with the acrid smell and blackened fibers caused by 

burning rubber before being sucked up the air conditioning vent. The last 

item to go was the lacy bra, which rapidly reduced to a smouldering pair of 

straps. 

 Just then, his trained ears heard unmistakably female footsteps returning to 

the room. He hid the remains of Michelles clothes out of sight under the bed 

before she re-entered the room carrying two steaming plates piled high with a 

local meat dish. 

 

 "Sorry I took so long.... Whats that burning smell?", she asked. 

 "Oh, I just had a cigarette. Hope you don't mind." 

 Michelle shrugged her shoulders before sitting next to him to eat their 

meals together. 

 An hour later, he was standing next to the bed with one leg on a chair. All 

the better to expose his manhood to Michelle, who was giving him the hardest 

blow job of his life while fondling and cupping his cum-loaded balls. 

 He looked down to watch the action in the dim light. She'd turned down the 

light level before engulfing him in one movement. The lipstick was specially 

made for the girls it seemed, it wasn't coming off as she pushed his cock 

slowly in and out of her mouth while sucking and swallowing rhythmically. 

 Before he could come, she pulled back and rubbed her firm Breasts around his 

cock for a minute. 

 "Now, would you like to fuck me?", Michelle asked. 

 "If it's ok, can I give you a good licking first?", he asked. 

 She seemed a little surprised at his request. 

 "Where.... down there?", she asked. 

 He nodded. 

 "How do you want it? Do you want me to sit on your face or lie back?" 

 "You've done all the work so far, you can lie back, unless you want to be on 

top?" 

 "No, that's fine", she answered casually. 

 Michelle lay back, and Hicks moved her legs into a comfortable position for 

both of them. 

 He leaned close to Michelles cunt and took hold with his fingers for the 

close inspection he didn't want to give the Ladies earlier in the evening. 

The fingers gently parted the tufts of red hair then the wings of Michelles 

vagina and peered inside. 

 The little round clitoris sprang out as her innermost secrets were exposed. 

He slowly examined the glistening slit from top to bottom, trying to memorize 

every detail before setting to work. 

 Maybe I should have been a gynaecologist, he thought. 

 

 Michelle didn't seem afraid to take her own pleasure while Hicks flicked his 

tongue over her clitoris and fingered her vagina. She started teasing her 

own nipples while laying back with her eyes closed. Who was she fantasizing 

about, he wondered. He was headstrong enough not to be worried that it wasn't 

likely to be him. The only sounds in the room was the faint hum of the air 

conditioning, their breathing and the lapping of Hicks tongue between 

Michelles red wings. 

 "I'm ready", she quietly said after about 10 minutes licking. 

 An idea came to Hicks. Michelles cunt lips were big enough to try something 

he'd heard about but never tried. He shook his head from side to side making 

them go 'Pitter patter slappity slap' on his cheeks. 

 "Stop that!", she giggled. 

 He blew a raspberry on her clitoris, making a BRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPP sound. She 

giggled hysterically and closed her legs on his face. 

 

 He climbed on top and she guided his cock into her wet hole. It slipped in 

up to the hilt with hardly any pressure. He started pumping gently while 

Michelle relaxed with her eyes alternating between looking at his and the 

ceiling. For a long time he savoured the feeling of sliding in and out of a 

well lubricated vagina, then faster and faster as he approached orgasm. To 

his surprise, Michelle reached between them and held his balls just before he 

came. The moment she did that, he came violently and sprayed her insides with 

his come. 

 As soon as they disengaged, he took another close look between her legs to 

see the aftermath of their coupling. As he watched, a thin stream of his come 

emerged from the wide, wet hole of her Vagina and dribbled down her thighs 

onto the towel she'd placed on the bed. 

 He ordered a few more drinks for the two of them using the inroom intercom, 

and they chatted for a long time in the buff before having another shower and 

falling asleep in each others arms. He liked to feel the warmth of another 

person next to him as he dozed off. 

 

 When Hicks suddenly woke before dawn by force of habit, he remembered being 

asked to bring back a souvenir of the place. Oh, bugger it! He would have 

asked if she could sign her underpants for him to keep as proof, but he'd 

gone and burnt everything. Ooops... 

 He scanned the dimly lit room for anything of Michelles that remained 

intact. 

 The only thing he spotted was her Jewellery. 

 

 He took it. 

 

  --------------- 

 

 The moment the Sulaco was securely docked to the Gateway station, the 

Customs people and Military police were grilling Ripley via comms monitor. 

 She recognized the procedure and knew they were only doing their job 

properly. They had to be sure the 11 missing Soldiers hadn't been struck down 

by a contagious Alien virus or militant boarding party waiting to attack the 

station the moment the hatch was opened. 

 Ripley patiently explained to the anxious officials the events on Acheron, 

and waited while the Sulacos records were transmitted by high speed data link 

to check everything was in order. 

 Finally the hatch was opened. Immediately, a fully armed boarding party 

entered the ship and checked it thoroughly before allowing Newt and Ripley to 

leave. An official took them aside and explained that, as witnesses, they had 

to remain on the station pending the inquiry, and requested a written report 

from Ripley. 

 

 The troops were impressed by the damage in the Cargo bay, and more so by the 

evidence of colossal force brought to bear on the landing mechanism of the 

remaining Dropships forward strut bay. Something had pushed aside atmospheric 

plates to make room for itself. Deep claw marks showed where toughened metal 

had been torn by hideous forces. 

 Hicks went to the infirmary and Bishop went down on the next shuttle to the 

Hyperdine systems factory for repair. He was evidence, otherwise he'd have 

been deactivated and stripped of expensive partarming smile was a strong 

personality that didn't take kindly to being pushed around. 

 She pondered this unexpected surprise. She had never been to one of 

Charlenes parties, but she'd heard they were well organized with lots of the 

best people there. She'd also heard but didn't quite believe, the stories 

Megan and Michael had told her of what sometimes happened at them later in 

the evening. 

 "Okay, I'm in. I'll see you there... what time?", Ellen replied. 

 "Great! It starts around seven tomorrow. See you there", Charlene said as 

she made a last minute dash for Communications class. 

 Ellen had to run to be in time for History. She loved learning about the 

great explorers and journeys of the past. Sometimes she wished she could have 

lived in the past, there were far more paths to advancement available then. 

The glamour jobs these days were in Computers, Administration, Space, and 

Mining. Mankind was on the move, making a beeline for the stars as fast as 

ships could ply the spaceways. 

 The only thing that never improved was the pollution. This morning there had 

been another red smog over the city. With the advent of the Hydrogen powered 

vehicle the only significant source of Sulphur fumes was the mines, and 

little was said about their output. Someone was making money, she mused, but 

none filtered down to where she could see it. 

 

 Her parents raised no objection to her going to the party when she asked at 

dinnertime that night. Her Father and Mother were a professional couple 

working in Maintenance and Computer-aided design, respectively. Ellen wasn't 

expected to follow in either of their footsteps, just to find her own way in 

life. Sometimes she regretted being an only child, it meant her parents 

aspirations were entirely on her shoulders and she couldn't go to a brother 

or sister for help. Her parents had helped by 'letting her go', to choose her 

own career or life, and she loved them for it. 

 When she got contemplative she felt herself at a bit of a crossroads 

sometimes. She could find a man to settle with or pursue a career... but what 

in? She liked the idea of going into space and joining modern day pioneers 

somewhere, but was a little afraid of so completely leaving her roots behind. 

She planned on doing something at least theoretically physical, to leave her 

mark somewhere, as she put it. 

 As they ate in their 70th floor apartment she admired the cityscape through 

the floor-to-ceiling one way glass, opaque and not mirrored from the outside 

so as not to make someone elses life hell from the massive reflections. 

Artifical diamond columns reinforced the 200-300 storey apartment blocks. 

Pedestrian access was afforded by walkways every 50th floor, and jutting 

landing platforms every 10th floor for ultralites, many of which cruised and 

glided on precisely controlled paths around the city at all hours. Far below, 

people were just visible in the last hours of daylight, walking through 

designated greenspaces and shopping areas. The odd seabird flashed through 

the fading light between buildings, heading inland from the sea a few miles 

away. Occasional glimpses of indicator or brake lights betrayed Hydrogen 

powered Automobiles filling the roads as always. There was more than enough 

room for everyone on under and overground public transport, but predictably, 

many had refused to give up the independence of their own vehicle. 

 The overpowering size of the city, and the number of people occupying it 

with the same dreams and aspirations as her meant that the odds of making a 

mark here were slim to virtually non-existent. 

 Slowly but surely the scales were tipping towards leaving. 

 

 The days until Friday passed quickly, between school, friends, study and 

work. 

 Half an hour early, Ellen bade her parents goodnight before taking an 

evening transport to Charlenes block. Ultralites were patiently recharging, 

wings folded upwards in the takeoff gangway to save room, like fighters on 

ancient aircraft carriers. Ellen had an ingrained habit of never taking the 

first available, probably learned from watching too many spy and gangster 

movies when she was young. 

 As soon as she was secure, the ultralite closed and rolled toward the 

takeoff point. Motors started and the wings folded down just before it 

reached the point of no return. Ellen soared out into the clear air between 

buildings. A faint whistling sound penetrated the cockpit, a combination of 

air rushing past and wing flaps adjusting position hundreds of time a second 

to counter turbulence. Even with thousands of craft in the air at once there 

was no possibility of collision with everything under central control via 

Radio. 

 The ultralite was presently taking her towards the distant sea. Almost 

directly above was another craft on a similar course. It's destination wasn't 

the same; shortly it changed direction and disappeared towards the reddening 

sun. Beyond the city were the recycling plants then the New Forest, dozens of 

miles of still maturing native and imported trees segregated by species into 

miles-long blocks. Part of the company's "green" image. 

 

 Was it really true that adventurous couples had made love in mid flight? Two 

person transports had consecutive seats, precluding climbing from one to the 

other. The only conceivable way was if she sat on his lap. But security 

people would still be waiting on arrival to check if the occupant(s) had 

experienced a medical problem, alerted by sensors to the unusual passenger 

movement. 

 The line of thought brought her back to the upcoming party, only a few miles 

away now. It was months since she'd broken up with Alan. His juicy dick had 

filled her mouth and cunt with cum on many occasions in the four months 

they'd been going out.... Damn, she was making herself wet just thinking 

about it. If only he hadn't been so stubborn about accepting that she liked 

to go out with girlfriends by herself sometimes. He was the first guy she'd 

ever given a blowjob to. The taste revolted her at first but she'd gotten 

used to it and almost liked it after the first few minutes. Then came the 

sudden jet of sperm that went straight down her throat. She was so taken 

aback that it wasn't until two more jets landed on her tongue that she 

realised he was cumming, he hadn't given a sign he was near. She couldn't 

decide if she liked the taste or not, but she'd really have preferred to have 

been warned first. 

 Afterwards he'd laid her back and planted his tongue in her crack. It was 

only a few nail-biting minutes before Ellen felt herself about to climax, and 

decided two could play his game. She was tiddly enough to do it, and a jet of 

natural lubricant shot from her vagina into his mouth as she came, making him 

splutter from the salty taste. She wished she could have recorded the look on 

his face at that moment for posterity. Heh heh. 

 

 Nearly there now. Charlenes block was looming up. The motor stopped for the 

glide down to the nearest available spot. Just before landing they started 

again to guide Ellen to a pinpoint landing at a leisurely five knots. 

 Charlene was able to afford her own 3-bedroom apartment, which was how she 

was able to have such regular parties. Ellen took care not to let herself 

jump at Charlenes solido picture of a jungle, cunningly installed near the 

door to catch people by surprise. As you walked past the full color hologram, 

the scene changed like a movie. At a point, a Crocodile lunged out of the 

river to fill the whole picture. Ellen had a simpler one, a fractal 

landscape. Mountains, Lakes, Underwater shots, Space scenes and Nudes were 

popular in solidos. 

 Twenty people were chatting away or dancing in a little group near the sound 

system when Ellen arrived. 

 Charlene did the introductions before Ellen spotted Megans distinctive 

plaited hairstyle in the crowd and joined a group of her chums. Megan was 

going out with Michael, a good friend of Ellens. The conversation was 

presently centered on the uncoming exams and their preparation or lack 

thereof for them. 

 Some hours later the party reached its quota of 30-40. Ellen had quaffed a 

few drinks by then and danced with a few people, mostly girlfriends. 

 With her latest drink in hand, she took a long look at the crowd to see what 

kind of company Charlene kept. There were a few older people aged 19-20 

scattered about, most were about her age, and a few in the 12-14 age group. 

There were more women than men in the room. Nothing special, she concluded. 

She couldn't imagine much happening, and rejoined the conversation. 

 

 "Watch her", Megan suddenly whispered into Ellens ear while subtly 

indicating a Brown haired girl aged about 19 who'd arrived a few minutes 

before. Megan was the friend who'd told Ellen about the goings on here. 

 As she watched from the other side of the party, the Brown haired girl 

walked over to the group comprising the youngest boys and promptly said 

something to one of them. He nodded, and followed her out the door. Nothing 

special about that, she thought. They were probably family. 

 "Wait", Megan said. Ellen was becoming impatient with Megan, when the boy 

walked back into the room looking as though he'd swallowed a bottle of 

spirits. He was promptly followed by the Girl, who again walked over to the 

group of young boys and said something to one. 

 After the second time, the boys were whispering to each other and looked 

expectant. Something was going on, and Ellen had a queasy feeling she knew 

what it was. 

 "Whats she up to?", Ellen asked Megan after the second boy returned and she 

departed with the third, a blonde aged about 14. 

 "Come on, I'll show you", Megan replied, leading her to the unlit kitchen. 

 "Don't touch the light!" someone said when Ellen moved for the switch. 

 Several people were already in there, looking out the window. 

 Curious, Ellen joined them. Outside was the Balcony. The door to the Balcony 

next door opened and the boy and girl came out. 

 As she watched, the girl closed the door behind them and whispered something 

into his ear. He nodded vigorously, and followed her instruction to lean back 

against the wall. She kneeled and pulled his trousers down before swallowing 

his half-erect cock in one gulp. 

 Oh, shit! Ellen gasped in disbelief. The other watchers murmured. There was 

just enough light with the door closed to see everything. 

 "Deborah is cock-crazy", Megan whispered into Ellens ear. "She can't get 

enough of giving young boys their first blowjob. She's done boys down to 

about 10." 

 Transfixed, Ellen watched the girls cheeks puckering rhythmically as she 

applied suction to the young virgin's cock. As soon as he was hard enough, 

she began moving her mouth up and down its length while fondling his 

cum-filled balls with one hand. 

 It didn't take long with her obvious experience. The fast and furious 

Blowjob took its toll; his mouth opened wide and he sagged back. She didn't 

relinquish her hold on his cock, but kept sucking, extracting every drop she 

could. 

 Ellen stayed in the Kitchen for 10 minutes, watching as the girl returned 

several more times to do the exact same thing to new boys. At one of them, a 

line of sperm burst from her mouth and dribbled down her cheek as he came. As 

soon as he was finished, she wiped it off her face with a finger before 

licking it clean. Next to them was a deckchair, but she always had them 

standing up. Either she knew she was being watched, or she figured she'd get 

more spunk than if they were lying down. 

 "Oh my god", Ellen shook her head to Megan when she returned to the party, 

leaving a small group still watching. 

 "They don't complain, and I've never seen her do the same guy twice", Megan 

replied, grinning. 

 Ellen thought she'd seem absolutely everything now, and had to have another 

drink to recover! 

 

 Not long afterwards, Philip, a nice-looking guy Ellen had cast a few 

admiring glances over when she'd seen him in school, 'convinced' the girl he 

was chatting with to come with him to one of the spare bedrooms for awhile. 

Very shortly she found herself being undressed from top to bottom, and each 

part of her body made love to as it was exposed. 

 She had a little suurrppriiiiisssee waiting for him! It wasn't only pleasure 

lust that smirked across her face in the bedroom. The surprise stared him in 

the face when he peeled down her underwear prior to some serious 

muff-munching. Before leaving for the party, she'd used a food-colouring to 

dye her pubic hair green and applied a temporary 'Keep off the grass' tattoo 

in the shape of a sign immediately above it. 

 

 Outside, an exceptionally pretty, slim, smooth legged, miniskirted young 

Blonde of around 15 was sitting amongst her friends. She was the focus of 

attention of several young men across the room from her, who were making less 

and less subtle glances her way. 

 Little by little her legs were coming further and further apart before 

closing again, affording them tantalizing views of inner thigh and white 

underwear. 

 Ellen noticed the temperature rising in a corner of the room, along with 

some anxious bulges in trousers, whose owners were trying to subtly cover up. 

 "Do you see what I see, Megan?", Ellen asked. 

 "Oh, her. She KNOWS what she's doing", she replied when the girl was pointed 

out to her. 

 While partaking in the conversation her group was in the midst of, the 

Blonde continued to mercilessly tease the young men across the room whilst 

maintaining her look of complete innocence. 

 Yes, now was the time for the coup de grace. 

 She reached under the miniskirt and between her slightly spread legs, took 

hold of the side of her panties, and pulled them and her Vagina lips aside 

for a few eternal seconds. Ellen clearly saw pink before the girl released 

them back into place and closed her legs, not to be opened for the rest of 

the night. 

 Ellen nearly fainted. All the time, the girl hadn't so much as made eye 

contact with the guys she was teasing. 

 

 "Hi Ellen! You're a sight for sore eyes as always", Michael greeted her as 

he came over and joined her and Megan. 

 "Flatterer", Ellen shot back. 

 Megan poked him the ribs as he sat between them. 

 She'd had the chance to go out with him years before, but they'd decided 

they were too close as friends to risk what they had. She'd seen people who 

were friends become lovers then bitterly split up, and figured it was best to 

make a lover out of a stranger. 

 Ellens group kept their discretion and remained together so they wouldn't be 

hassled by the few guys whose sex drive had boiled over with the goings on. 

They were content to watch the amusement over drinks. Charlenes party was 

living up to its reputation! 

 

 Then trouble presented itself in the form of... Paul. He'd been sitting with 

the other Brain deads in a corner, and had decided it was time to "score". He 

was the kind of guy who had to boast to everyone who'd listen, of each sexual 

conquest whether real or imagined. 

 "Who invited him to the party?", Ellen asked Michael when she spotted him 

working his way over. 

 "I think he invited himself. He's been here the last few times, and a lot of 

people are getting pissed off at him. Just ignore him." 

 But no, he didn't ignore her, and sidled over. 

 "Say, Ellen, I haven't seen you here before", he said. 

 "Wanna dance?" he continued when no reply was forthcoming. 

 Ellen slowly turned towards him. "Piss....... off", she simply said before 

turning away again. 

 "Well, if thats the way it's gonna be, fine", he said as he walked off. 

 No skin off my teeth, Paul. 

 "Hang on a minute...", Michael said as he went to the kitchen to grab 

another drink. 

 Ellen caught a glimpse of him having an urgent whispered conversation into 

the ear of a nice-looking Brunette she hadn't seen before. The girl looked 

unhappy about something, but presently she smiled and left the kitchen. 

 Michael returned and saw Ellens quizzical face when he sat between them 

again. 

 "Just making an arrangement", he said simply. 

 As she watched, the Brunette walked over to Paul and invited him to join her 

for a dance. True to form, within a few minutes he whispered something to 

her. To Ellens surprise, she nodded agreement and went with him down the 

corridor to one of the spare bedrooms. 

 "Oh no, why did you do that? She'll keep him going for WEEKS!", Ellen said 

in disappointment. 

 "No he won't. You'll suffer him for 2 or 3 days, max", he smiled. 

 Ellen mulled this over. 

 "How come?", she asked. 

 "She's a friend of a friend. She enjoys sex, and I brought her along 

especially for Paul. She's got the clap." 

 Ellen sprayed some of the mouthful of drink she was swilling, and nearly 

choked on the remainder from laughing. Megan grinned evilly. 

 STD's could have been eradicated centuries ago, but with such things there 

was always SOMEONE who refused treatment out of ignorance or stubbornness, 

and so the cycle started all over again. The medical centers had never ceased 

to be amazed by the daily parade of people seeking attention. 

 

 "How did Charlenes parties get like this?", Ellen asked. 

 "This your first time here?" 

 "At one of her parties, yes" 

 "I dunno really, I think it started when someone decided to flirt a bit 

harder than normal, and it went on from there. A few people didn't want to be 

a part of some girls ego trip and haven't come back, but thats up to them." 

 "What if someone tried touching a girl who didn't want it?" 

 "A guy tried once. We took him out the back, stripped him, tied him to a 

bed, put toothpaste on his balls, and didn't let him go for hours. Nobodys 

tried since." 

 "I'm not surprised." 

 

 Meanwhile, Jane and Philip in the first bedroom were engaged in a furious 

sixty-niner. He had licked her until she was randy enough to demand a go at 

his cock, so they moved into position with her on top. 

 She was getting closer to orgasm with each passing moment from the incessant 

licking and the mouthful of cock he had, and she wanted to feel her vagina 

being filled by the cock she was sucking on. 

 "I want your cock inside me, right now!", she blurted out. 

 A light came on in his head. 

 "Can we do it from behind?", he asked. 

 Jane liked it that way because she could play with herself and his balls at 

the same time, and feel them slapping against her crack as she was fucked. 

She agreed. 

 "Could you lie flat on your stomach with your legs a bit apart?" 

 Jane thought that position a bit odd, but said nothing and did as he asked 

to see what it would be like. If it didn't work she could move back into the 

original position. 

 But Philip had other ideas. He rubbed his cock up and down her crack to 

spread the lubrication around and stimulate her clitoris with the tip. Then 

he moved the head of his cock into position and eased it in. Little by little 

he pushed it in until his balls pressed against her crack. 

 Right... go for it! He took hold of her arms to hold her down, stopped in 

midstroke and bent down to her ear. 

 "You're the ugliest bitch I've ever been with, and I've been with heaps of 

girls. I wanted you in this position so I don't have to see your face", he 

said. 

 WHAT? 

 "YOU FUCKEN BASTARD!", she screamed loud enough for people near the bedroom 

to hear over the sound system. She did a good imitation of hair going on end 

as her face twisted with rage. She began struggling violently. 

 Wow! He was surprised by her strength, and had to hang on tight. 

 Perfect! Ridem, Cowboy! 

 He didn't have to move. Her thrashing did it for him and he shortly came in 

long spurts inside her vagina. 

 A few seconds later he relaxed, allowing her to get the upper hand and throw 

him off. 

 At that moment, Ellen was chatting with Charlene, who'd circulated around to 

her again. The first they knew of it was when the apartment reverberated to a 

loud crash as Jane attempted to propel Philip from the room, without opening 

the door first. 

 "Oh, fuck!", Charlene exclaimed. "If they've wrecked anything they're gonna 

pay for it!" 

 A few seconds later Philip ran for his life from the bedroom, with his 

trousers undone and no t-shirt. 

 Unbeknownst to him, his lips and tongue had aquired a prominent tinge of 

green from the food colouring in Janes pubic hair. 

 Ellen smiled to herself as the bedroom door was yanked shut behind Philip. 

The explanation for this one would be interesting! 

 

 Shortly thereafter, Megan noticed the fat insect feeding off Michaels arm. 

Looking closer, she saw it was red with his blood, meaning it'd been there 

awhile. 

 "Mike, you've got a Mosquito on your arm." 

 "Pardon?", he said over the din. 

 "Culicidae culex, on your arm" 

 "Ah..." Understanding flooded across his face. He mashed the offending 

insect with a meaty palm, leaving a bloodspot. 

 "Fucken Xenomorph." 

 

 As randy as Ellen was feeling after viewing the goings on around her, she'd 

lose social status by making a pass at Philip tonight. She was tempted to 

"put the bait out" and see who she could reel in to give her a licking, but 

decided against it. Not under these circumstances. 

 

 A few minutes later she noticed a little group of giggling girls subtly 

glancing in the direction of a guy several seats away from her. Now what? 

 After an especially loud peal of laughter, one of the girls broke away from 

the group and sat next to him. Ellen was just close enough to hear what came 

next. 

 "Hi.. Umm.. my friends have a little bet on you. Interested?" 

 "First, what are they betting on?" 

 "I've bet you'll take my underwear off within a minute of sitting next to 

you. Could you? I'd lose money otherwise." 

 He glanced into her eyes for approval, then reached under her dress with 

both hands and pulled them down to her knees. She pocketed them before 

returning to her friends. 

 

 Oh.. FUCKEN HELL! Right... THAT was IT!! Ellen had reached her limit. She 

couldn't take any more. 

 So who was it to be? She wanted a tongue in her groove, and it couldn't be 

Michael. She scanned the crowd for possibles. Yes, there. Among the few 

dancers near the stereo was another guy from school she'd added to her mental 

"I want" list. Yummy! She didn't know his name, but he was definitely her 

type with darkly handsome features, brown eyes, hair almost as black as hers 

and a thin smile she'd wanted to kiss from the first time she'd seen it. To 

her, the ring and stud in his left ear meant internal strength. She was 

convinced he'd be interesting to get to know better. 

 After watching him for awhile to ensure he was alone, Ellen approached and 

tapped him on the shoulder from behind. 

 "Are you with someone?" 

 "No." 

 "Good. I want to dance with you. Okay?" 

 "Thats fine by me", he flashed the grin she liked. 

 "I'm Ellen. I've seen you around my school a bit", Ellen replied as she led 

him to the middle of the little group. She wasn't one to stand out. 

 "Hi, I'm Kevin. Ummm, I've seen you around as well." 

 Gotcher! So he was probably paying attention to her, too. Lets play it by 

ear. 

 "I like the earring. Not many guys have one." 

 "Oh, that! It's a bit of a family tradition, goes back god knows how many 

generations." 

 They danced and chatted for awhile before Ellen beckoned him to follow her. 

She led him to the bedroom recently vacated by Philip and Jane. The sheets 

were still ruffled and the smell of sex was still noticeable. 

 Ellen closed the door behind them before turning to Kevin, who was regarding 

her while holding his watchstrap and looking nervous. 

 "Kevin, I want to kiss you." 

 "Why do you want to do that? I don't think I'm that great." 

 "Well, I happen to think so. Your modesty will take you far." 

 "This is happening a bit fast." 

 "You're nervous, aren't you?" 

 "I've never met anyone so..." 

 "Forward?" 

 "Yes, thats what I mean." 

 "I know what I want, thats all." 

 Ellen moved forward and planted a quick kiss on Kevins lips. That woke him 

up. He took hold of her and pulled her to him for another. 

 "That wasn't so bad, was it?" 

 "I've got protection, if you want to go all the way." 

 "No, you can't fuck me. You can lick me, and I'll suck you, but you're not 

sticking me. I don't want that tonight. Okay?" 

 "Some people would call you a tease for that." 

 "Thats their problem. I don't really care what they say." 

 "Yeah, I figured." 

 Ellen wiggled a finger towards her lips in the "c'mere" gesture. 

 They intertwined again, Kevin forcing his tongue into Ellens mouth. Ellen 

reached around and grabbed one of his arms, tried to pull it around to her 

front. He resisted. She pulled harder. 

 "Is something wrong?" 

 "Gimme your hand." 

 This time he didn't resist, as Ellen placed one of his hands on her breast. 

 "Thats where I want it." 

 He gently squeezed her breast, making her moan. 

 "I like to be kissed like this", she explained as their lips met again. 

Ellen started backing them towards the bed. 

 "How do you want it?", Kevin asked. 

 "Can I be on top?" 

 "Yes please!" 

 Kevin lifted Ellens dress and with one swift movement pulled off her 

underpants. He quickly got onto the bed and lay back. Ellen clambered on top 

in the 69 position. Kevin arranged her dress so it wouldn't get in the way 

before parting Ellens clamshell cunt lips. The inner lips eagerly opened wide 

at his touch, revealing soft wet pink flesh. 

 "I'll bet half the guys in school would like to give you a gynaecology 

examination." 

 "Would they now? Tough. They're out of luck aren't they? Now shut up and eat 

me." 

 ZONK! 

 Yes, that hit the spot. Kevin didn't need to be asked twice. 

 It wasn't until her second time with a guy that she'd received a licking. 

That first tonguing had given her the spooks, she didn't know what she was 

supposed to feel until she got used to it. Now she was trembling, possessed 

with pleasure and lust. 

 Her part of the bargain was staring her in the face. The thermometer bulging 

in his pants told her how much he liked what he was doing. She didn't want to 

suck him yet, she found she couldn't concentrate on receiving and giving 

pleasure at the same time. But a little teasing never went astray, and she 

started fondling the bulge in his pants. 

 A finger penetrated her cunt, quickly followed by a second. The lapping 

tongue disappeared and was replaced by something cooler and harder. His nose! 

The cheeky bugger was using his nose on her clitoris. Oh well, as long as he 

doesn't stop what he's doing, she figured. 

 She felt the massive orgasm start when the tonguing and fingering resumed. 

 

 Then came an out of place rustling noise. 

 "Mommy?", a voice called out. 

 

 No, that didn't match. Ripley ignored the interruption to the impending 

orgasm. She'd learned a few prodreaming skills to help her recovery from the 

Nostromo flight, enough to prevent a dream sidetracking from the path she 

wanted it to take. The trouble was recognizing the nightmare for what it was 

while asleep and avoiding it in time. The exercises included how to shut off 

outside influences, and keeping dreams going past the usual cutoff point of 

extreme emotion if she chose. 

 Oh god, she was so close now. Don't you DARE stop, Kevin! Fuck that feels 

good! Ellen nuzzled closer to the bulge in Kevins pants and kissed it. One 

queen-sized BJ coming up just as soon as she'd come. She was going to tease 

him for ages before finally bringing him off into her mouth so she could 

experience the sudden hot taste of his cum. She wanted that more than 

anything else right now. 

 

 "Mommy?", the voice came again. 

 

 The pleasant memory faded out, replaced by the semi-darkness of her 

apartment. The night lights were on and faint music was playing. Time to get 

up. 

 

 "Mmmmmpphhh??", Ripley moaned. 

 

 "Why are you sleeping on the floor?" 

 

 I'll tell you about it someday, Newt. 


 

 Ripley had arranged things so she didn't have to return to work on the cargo 

docks until after the military inquiry, which was only a few days away. 

 Today she wanted to visit Hicks in Hospital after Newts custody was decided 

upon this morning. Then there was her flight certification to see to. 

Burke... liar, blank faced official murderer and good Company tool, she hoped 

he hadn't lied about her reinstatement to flight duty. And Bishop; she'd see 

him at the inquiry no doubt. At least his Holographic memory couldn't be 

doctored like the lifeboat flight recorders... 

 

 The beep from the door took her by surprise as she prepared a cooked 

breakfast. (And when was the last time she'd done THAT, she thought to 

herself) 

 She answered the door in her nightrobe while Newt showered next door. 

 A Tall suited figure was standing outside, suitcase in hand. Receding 

hairline, brown eyes, clean shaven. Late twenties at a guess. She knew who he 

represented before he spoke. 

 "Hello Ripley, Can we talk? I'm Bill; Bill Keys. I work with the company. 

Hope I'm not too early?" 

 She started, but caught herself in time from slamming the door in his face. 

The last company 'okay guy' assigned to her had attempted to deliver them to 

the wolves for money. She wisely decided to at least hear him out, it 

couldn't do any harm. But this time she wouldn't allow herself to make the 

mistake of forgetting what he was, not even for an instant. 

 "Now is as good a time as any, I guess", she said without much enthusiasm. 

"You're kinda early for a housecall, aren't you?" 

 "Ah, yes, I wanted to catch you before you left for work." He noted the 

sheets and pillow still lying on the floor and said nothing, remembering 

Ripleys psych reports. 

 "As you know, Mr Burke arranged the return of your commercial flight 

officers license in exchange for your help on the rescue mission." 

 "And?" 

 "The decision as to whether it will be returned will be made after the joint 

military and civilian court of inquiry", he took a breath, "but it looks good 

so far." 

 Well, that's the first piece of good news for a long time, she thought. 

 "You did pretty well there, from what I've seen on the records. A few people 

were wondering if you'd consider a military career?", he joked. 

 She smiled, without much humour. "Not really, I'd just like to continue 

where the company left me off." Strictly business. 

 "Well, in that case, as Mr Burke also stated the company has agreed to pick 

up your contract, if you're interested", he added when he noticed Newt 

returning from the shower. 

 "The young girl you brought back from the Colony?" 

 She nodded. "The temporary Custody hearing is this morning. No, theres no 

hurry to go, it's in a few hours. And about the contract - I haven't given 

much thought yet about taking it up." 

 "Hows your report coming along?" 

 "It'll be finished on time." 

 Time to raise the stakes a little. 

 "What's the company view on the Sulaco tapes?" 

 His voice dropped a pitch. 

 "They validate your story." Pause. "What I saw of them was godawful. The 

subject of whether they should be classified was raised last night. They're 

still deciding how to tell the families of those poor people." 

 She looked into his eyes. The feelings he was conveying seemed genuine, but 

she wasn't allowing herself to fall into the subtle trap. Lets see what she 

could get out of him. 

 "What was Carter Burkes position within the company?" 

 "He was a minor company executive, assigned to your case. Why?" 

 "Just curious. There are some aspects of this affair that aren't on the 

tapes." 

 "Such as?" 

 "Company directive Six Twelve Nine, dated Five Thirteen Seventy-Nine, to the 

colony of Acheron. Have you read it?" 

 "I would if I could, but all material concerning the colony has been 

subpoened. Enlighten me." 

 She handed him the piece of paper she'd discreetly printed from the Colony 

computer. If the soldiers had seen this... 

 He read slowly through the edict, and his color faded somewhat. He re-read 

it before answering. 

 "Mr Burke sent them to check on the Alien ship you reported?" 

 "Without warning them of the danger. He seemed more interested in preserving 

a sample than anyones welfare, if you know what I mean", Ripley added. 

 "I assume this is genuine?" 

 "There should be a copy in your computer." She placed emphasis on the word 

'should'. 

 There was a long pause. 

 "My god... I had absolutely no idea of this, believe me. Can I keep this?" 

 "Sorry, I need it for inclusion in my report." 

 He looked reluctant, then nodded. 

 "I think I should report this immediately, if you don't mind?" 

 "By all means." Ripley nodded to the door. 

 There goes the mouse that destroyed the elephant, she thought. 

 

 There was an uncomfortable few minutes waiting before they were called into 

an office. 

 The 30ish year old female social worker bade them to sit while arranging her 

papers. 

 "You're Rebecca Jorden?", she asked Newt. 

 "Uh huh." 

 "Okay, Rebecca. Have you given much thought to where you'd like to live?" 

 "With Ripley, if thats alright." 

 "You could say we've got a lot in common. I'd like to give it a try" Ripley 

added. 

 "Okay. Now, Rebecca, we're tracing your relatives through computer records, 

but that will take a few days of course with some being on other Colonies. 

You know we have to give priority to relatives applying for permanent 

custody?" 

 "Yes, but I'd like to stay with Ripley." 

 "And we want whats best for you too, Rebecca. We just have to consider all 

available options. You get to have a say, of course. 

 Now, Ms Ripley, as part of our job we have to do a background check on 

possible recipients. There are a few things I feel we should discuss. Do you 

want Rebecca to be in here during that?" 

 "I think I know what they are. Go ahead." 

 The Social worker nodded. "Ok. According to your file, you had a messy 

family situation immediately prior to leaving Earth on a short term contract. 

How do you feel about looking after a daughter again?" 

 Ripley could almost feel the accusation, that she'd abandoned Amy. Her 

Husband had similarly accused her when she'd accepted the Nostromo posting. 

She admired the diplomatic way the social worker had put the question, 

sparing her recalling the details in front of Newt. 

 "I was thinking about Amy. She'd had enough of both of us, so I figured to 

give her a few months to get over it. 

 Every day I think about Amy waiting her whole life for me to return, but I 

never did. 

 I'd very much like to look after Newt. I feel we need each other." 

 "Good. Okay, secondly, until the Nostromo flight you had a good employment 

record. But, on your return, you were found to have acted with questionable 

judgement, and were required to attend a psychiatric tech once a month. 

You've had a good record since, working in the cargo docks. You obviously 

like to keep occupied. But what I need to know is, do you feel you've gotten 

over the... 'problem'... since your return?" 

 "I can tell fiction from reality, if thats what you mean?" 

 "Yes, thats what I mean." 

 "My 'problem' as you put it, I'm handling in my own time now. The court of 

inquiry will corroborate my story in a few days." 

 "I'll have to take your word on that, but I don't see any problems. You have 

temporary custody of Rebecca Jordan, until such time as a full hearing on her 

adoption, subject to the condition that relatives are allowed access at any 

reasonable time. Do you have any questions?" 

 "No, thats fine by me", Ripley answered. 

 The social worker typed the order into the system. 

 And that was that. 

 Ripley was beaming for the first time in years when they left the office. 

 

 Now, there was someone else she had to see. After finding where to go on an 

electronic map, they set off across the station. 

 "Where are we going?" Newt asked. 

 "To see someone special." 

 "Mr Hicks?" 

 "Uh, huh." 

 It took a good 15 minutes to reach the medical area, deliberately set in a 

quiet out-of-the-way area. 

 "We're see to Hicks; Dwayne Hicks", Ripley asked the duty nurse, who was 

busy entering details into her terminal. 

 "Are you relatives?" 

 "No, we're just friends. Is that ok?" 

 The expressionless Nurse didn't need to check the console for his status and 

availability before replying. 

 "Room 2107, next level up", indicating the lift partway down a corridor. 

"He's doing quite well for himself, I gather. He should be out in a day or 

two." 

 "Is he awake?" 

 "He's refusing injections, he wanted seconds and thirds of breakfast this 

morning, and he asked the Charge Nurse out on a date. Sounds normal to you?" 

 "Very definitely", Ripley smiled. 

 

 Hicks was working on his written statement when they entered the open door. 

Bandaged forehead, chest and arm - he wasn't slowing down any more than 

necessary. 

 "Well, Dwayne. You've been keeping the nurses busy, I hear." 

 "Ellen! How the bloody hell are you? It took me hours to find out if you 

were alive or not. You made it... you really made it!" 

 Hicks welcomed Ripley with open arms. 

 "I still think you were crazy going down there, but what the hell..." and to 

Newt, "I owe you one, little lady, and I don't forget debts." 

 "We all owe her. I've got temporary custody. And I seem to remember you 

promising to buy her a bed." 

 "Oh, THAT", he grimaced, remembering the promise he'd made while following 

Newt through the ventilation ducts out of the complex. Oh well. "A promise is 

a promise. You'll get it." 

 "I heard something about one of those critters smuggling itself onto the 

dropship. What happened?" 

 "Well, yes. We threw it overboard before it could do much", Ripley answered 

modestly. 

 "The company people got to you too, huh?", she continued, obliquely 

referring to his half complete report. 

 "Have they what! They're right miffed because someone dropped a nuke on a 

high plateau area of Acheron. That was you, I take it?" 

 "Bishop gave me the codes to drop one from orbit on the Alien ship, so no 

other poor souls would stumble across it." 

 "Wish I'd seen it. For years we've looked at those nukes and stencilled on 

them, but we never got to actually use one. And I slept through it all. Don't 

tell me, they can bill you for it?" 

 "Yeah, well, the tabs getting quite big. It won't make much difference." 

 

 That night was Hicks' second of normal sleep in a row. He didn't miss the 

cryogenic alternative in the least. You never dreamed in cryosleep. Maybe 

that was another reason why the military preferred it. 

 

 Another off duty time. This time Hicks memories flashed back to the time on 

Tionis. 

 Bored bored bored. They were in temporary accommodation, playing craps and 

racing the Insects someone had collected, while awaiting the orders to move 

onto the next troublespot they had to clean up. Half the time, a few big time 

hunters would suffice to clean out whatever marauding wildlife had taken a 

fancy to the colonists. But no, they had to send a team of soldiers instead. 

Great. They'd trained for years to become bug hunters. 

 "Okay, chiluns, I've scored us some vids", Drake the smartgunner proudly 

announced as he entered their enclave. 

 Everyones ears perked up. Entertainment at last. Wherever they were, Drake 

always managed to get his hands on some illegal vids. It was widely believed 

he'd signed up to hide from the law. Nobody ever queried this; a soldiers 

past was his own so long as it didn't interfere with his work. But he 

certainly knew how to make the contacts. Maybe his scarred appearance helped 

in that respect. 

 "What've you got for us today, Drake?", Crowe asked, intrigued. 

 "Lessee... 'Alien antics'... and 'Doggie training'" 

 "Well, what're you waiting for? Put em on", Hudson suggested. 

 Even Ferro the dropship pilot, Dietrich the stuffy medtech and Vasquez 

joined in. They'd long since learned to find amusement wherever it could be 

had. As long as fun wasn't poked at them as women, they didn't really care 

what the men watched. 

 Someone scrounged a vidset from a back room, while Hicks grabbed an armful 

of beer cans from the fridge to go around. 

 'Alien antics' went on first. This one featured various partners having sex 

in turn with a species of Hermaphrodite monkey a few of them recognized as a 

native of Vebi. 

 In between the howls of laughter, the loud groans as the vid-disk descended 

to a new low in film history, and the sound of beer being guzzled to help the 

drinker recover from segments of the tape, came various lewd remarks. 

 "Primates, not more fucken primates", Wierzbowski said out loud, in between 

the squelching and moaning the too-close microphone had captured for 

eternity. 

 "Fuck, those things again. Ever been near them? They smell like nobody's 

business. I'd sooner shoot them than screw them", Vasquez, the 'Gamin 

assassin' muttered. 

 "Same thing in your case, innit?", Drake retorted. 

 Vasquez biffed at him the furry insect she'd been stroking. 

 Apone chose that moment to walk in. He'd been out to check whether their 

orders had come in yet. There was a collective inhaling of breath. The big 

Sergeant sized up the goings on at a glance. 

 "At ease. You'll go blind watching that sort of crap, people", he announced 

before returning to his paperwork. 

 A quiet guffaw went through the little crowd. Apone knew when to turn a 

blind eye; as long their fun didn't do any harm he couldn't be bothered to 

pull rank. 

 The next vid-disk was more of the same, with Earth-bound dogs. Very deviant 

stuff. The beer was long gone by the end. Even Drake was satisfyingly 

disgusted with it all. 

 The Ladies wandered off after that to have drinkies down the road. 

Unscheduled slack time was rare as hens teeth, and not to be missed. They 

wisely reported their exact whereabouts to Hicks first, in case the order to 

ship out came through. 

 "I could do with a stripper to get over that one", Frosty said out loud 

after they'd gone. 

 "Well, what do you think, Hicks. Is that a good idea, or what?", Hudson 

seconded the suggestion. 

 "Well, I'd say yes, but I'd best ask Apone first. Are the rest of you in?" 

 By the vigorous nods, he took the response to be 'yes'. 

 Hicks went to check with Apone. He wasn't gone long. 

 "The Sarge says 'yes', he'll even chip in. Who wants to arrange things? 

Crowe? You seem to know your way around." 

 "Yeah, ok, give me the money and I'll be back in the hour." 

 Everyone chipped in 10 credits of military scrip. The girl wouldn't have 

much trouble getting 5 times its value on the black market. That was another 

advantage of being in the Army, out in the boondocks things were often 

cheaper than they would be otherwise. 

 By the time he'd returned with a slim long legged natural blonde, the others 

had turned up the lounge temperature for her benefit, set up a sound system 

and collected everyones music so she could take her pick. 

 She looked a little nervous when she arrived, with all those men in the 

Lounge awaiting her. Crowe reassured her, "Don't worry, they know how to 

behave. Nobody lays a finger on you unless you let them." 

 The whistling and clapping told Crowe he'd made a good choice of girl. He 

rejoined his friends as the Blonde selected her choice of music and set the 

volume. 

 When the music started, she put a hand to her ear while facing them 

sideways, feigning listening. 

 The explosion of cheers and whistling from the assembled soldiers bade her 

to start. 

 First to go was the top, then the Leather miniskirt. The more she took off, 

the louder the cheers became. A real professional, she lip synched with the 

songs she knew and pantomimed the words occasionally. 

 No shortage of cheering from this Audience. These soldiers beat many crowds 

she'd performed for. There was nothing she hated more than people paying good 

money for her then staying quiet, as if she or they were doing something 

wrong. 

 Time to start teasing. She invited Wierzbowski to remove her bra, to 

tumultuous applause. She advanced on the men sitting on the floor in front of 

the others, stooped over one and bent down close enough for him to smell her 

cunny. He put his hands up and touched her legs, no further. No worries from 

this bunch alright. Good. 

 She moved among them, teasing as she went. Bending down slightly and closing 

her legs or crotch against the legs of a few. Others, she rubbed the crotch 

of their trousers with a hand. By now, some had hardons they were trying to 

subtly cover by partly hiding behind their friends. 

 One went down on his knees, begging her to marry him. 

 "No, but you can take my shoes off", she replied. 

 She turned away before slowly, ever so slowly, pulling down her underwear 

while rocking her hips from side to side. The soldiers went crazy! 

 Buck naked, she wandered among them again, rubbing herself against them, 

hugging a few, letting them touch anything except her private parts. Not 

yet... 

 She moved back again and lay down, legs spread wide for the first time. 

While gyrating her hips, she put a hand between her legs and pulled 

everything open for them to have a good look. The wilder she got, the more 

they loved it. She was determined they were going to be satisfied with this 

performance! She put a finger inside herself briefly before standing again. 

 Once more she advanced on the men, before bending her knees and pulling the 

face of another who was sitting into her crotch. Instantly he was nuzzling 

close and licking her. She let him have a good faceful of fluff before 

choosing the two she was going to have fun with. 

 Crowe was enjoying the show with everyone else when she suddenly advanced on 

him and pulled him forward by the arm. 

 "Hey, wait a minute, not me!" 

 "Yes, you." 

 "Go on, Crowe.. YEEAAAAHHH!!!" Everyone shouted and cheered him on. 

 You think you're in luck... just you wait buster... Heh heh, she thought. 

 Swiftly she turned down the volume on the sound system, before turning her 

attention back to Crowe and unzipping his trousers, but not pulling them 

down. 

 "The poor guys got a soft-on. Tsk tsk, have to do something about that, 

won't we? Leave it to me. Close your eyes." 

 The moment he did, she whipped a ping pong ball attached to a length of 

elastic from the discarded dress. Working quickly, she tied the other end of 

the elastic to his lowered fly before lying back on the floor, facing the 

crowd. She inserted the ping pong ball into her vagina and held it there with 

her muscles. The elastic was nice and tight by now. Perfect. 

 The others knew what was coming! 

 "Keep your eyes closed. Are you REEEAAAAAADDDYY????" she shouted. 

 "YYYEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!" The men shouted, while Crowe nodded in 

anticipation. Ok, you got it. 

 She worked the ball loose with her vagina muscles. 

 TWAANNGGG!! 

 

 --* THWACK *-- 

 

 Right into the testicles. 

 While the others were almost doubled up in laughter, Crowe was bent over 

from a different sensation. Obviously not in much condition for anything, he 

staggered back to the sidelines. 

 Poetic justice, you Bastard, Hudson mused. This made up nicely for the 

tricks you did to me on Arcturius, he thought. 

 

 The Blonde selected Wierzbowski this time. He wasn't happy AT ALL, but 

reluctantly went out at her insistence. Drake lent a helping hand, or a 

helping shove. 

 Down went his trousers, then his underwear. She pushed him down to the floor 

and pulled them off completely. 

 "Thats the most shrunken pair I've ever seen", someone shouted at the 

embarrassed soldier. 

 Ignoring the lewd remarks, she sat on his face before bending forward and 

fondling him until he was properly erect. On with the condom, then down she 

went with her mouth. 

 They sixty-nined briefly, everyone being treated to a good view of her wide 

spread pussy being tongued, before she stood again, turned around to face the 

assembled men, and sat on Wierzbowski's cock. 

 A few of the soldiers gasped, watching Wierzbowski's rod disappearing into 

her trimmed pussy. Quickly she built up a rhythm, her hair and little breasts 

bobbing up and down with her motion. His hands went up to fondle her breasts 

while one of hers pulled her vagina lips wide so the assembled throng could 

have a clear view of the cock moving in and out. 

 He quickly came, and she climbed off. 

 She dressed and tidied herself, staying for a chat and a few drinks before 

leaving. 

 The orders arrived a day later and they shipped out, but that was one party 

Hicks and the others never forgot. 

 

 The repair section of the Hyperdine factory where Bishop lay was lit with 

antiseptic fluorescent lighting. The sounds of distant machinery and 

technicians chattering amongst themselves were the only things that had 

changed in the last few days. 

 The conversation was around him, about him, but little was directed at him. 

Occasionally he was asked to move an extremity and he'd send the requisite 

light pulses, but mostly he was just another piece of defective machinery 

they didn't pay much attention to. 

 Partway through the second day things sped up when the technicians finished 

wiring him back up and the engineers took over to weld his joints and finish 

sealing him. 

 Someone entered his line of sight. "Okay Bishop, gimme a low pressure 

coolant test... yep, good... go to high pressure... no leaks, everythings 

sealed. Okay, relax. I'll laz-seal the skin then you're finished. Someone did 

quite a job on you, didn't they?" 

 "Not a person, a 30 foot unclassified organism", Bishop corrected the 

engineer. 

 The engineer grinned. "You'd fool anyone who didn't know you were synthetic. 

It's a pity your model only have circumstantial humour though. If I'd been in 

charge it'd be different, but I suppose the military wouldn't approve. Thats 

why I chose engineering instead of programming." 

 "My model?" 

 "Oh, you don't know of course. You've been superceded by the 600. They're 

brilliant. You're programmed to be an individual, but they decide on their 

own little habits. We play 'spot the synthetic' with a volunteer and a 600, 

and fail statistically. I didn't know they could pack that level of holo-CPU 

into that little space. Thats still confidential by the way, but you won't 

talk - thats one thing I like about working with synthetics. And don't worry, 

the 600 is bloody expensive and gets bored with longhaul jobs so you won't be 

replaced." 

 "I'm glad I don't work for Hyperdine then. I see I don't have many secrets 

here." 

 "Sorry about that. We have to know all the tics; fault diagnostics and all 

that." 

 The faint buzz of the engineers low-power welder started on his right side 

and began working its way over to the left. From all reports, if he did a 

good job it'd leave hardly a mark. 

 "Oh... I think I should warn you that you're in for a grilling. ICC Company 

people are calling every hour, on the hour, wanting to know when you can talk 

to them. One implied I didn't know my job because you weren't ready yet. I 

told him to come here and see if he could do any better. He disconnected. 

What would you have done?" 

 "Most likely I'd just let it go over my head. Keep my options open, so to 

speak." 

 "It's not like that with people. You're conservative and inoffensive, but 

nobody who knows you takes you lightly. I'd love to see him try it with a 

600, you can work up a good argument with one of those." 

 People. I'll never understand them as long as I'm functional, Bishop 

thought. Put a hundred synthetics in a high-stress situation and they'll all 

do the most logical thing. A hundred humans would likely do as many things, 

ranging from panic to violence. 

 "What are the company people after?" 

 "They're not much for conversation, but one said he was after information 

about the organism you encountered." 

 "I'm afraid they may be disappointed. The mature form is unapproachable, and 

I didn't have the right equipment to study the biochemistry of the immature 

form." 

 "Interesting beastie. Remind me to stay away from them, will you? Turn onto 

your left side, could you.... thanks. Tough bastard, to do this sort of 

damage. Did you go out to fight them?" 

 "Sorry, I can't talk much. Military secrecy and all that." 

 "Fair enough. Okay, finished there. Now lets do the right side... thank 

you." 

 "I'd like to meet the 600 model." 

 "Sorry, I can't take you to one, and I seriously doub weapons are expensive pieces of hardware 

requiring very high authority for their use. There are procedures in place to 

ensure their proper use. Did you think to discuss it with anyone first?" 

 "She did", Bishop piped up in her defence. "I thought her decision was 

entirely in line with what we'd seen and learned, otherwise I wouldn't have 

given her the launch codes." 

 "But the alien ship was a different matter. If any aliens were present 

there, they were in a dormant state, otherwise the colonists wouldn't have 

made it back to the colony. You seem to have a habit of taking expensive 

company property very lightly. Thank you, Ripley. I can assure you this WILL 

be taken into consideration when the panel decides on returning your 

license." 

 

 And on it went, all day and part way through the next. One niggling, 

irritating questioner after another trying to transform company liability 

into personal liability. 

 Just when Ripley felt near the point of exploding, Van Leuwen decided the 

inquiry wasn't going to advance any further, and sent them outside while they 

considered the verdict. 

 The whole thing was a sham, Ripley felt. She had a horrible feeling the 

company was going to try to paper over the facts. If they tried, she'd go 

straight to the media. That was, if there was a single independent source 

anywhere prepared to speak against the company and risk a lawsuit thrown 

their way to harass them into silence. 


 

 An hour later they were back. 

 "It is the judgement of this court that Corporal Dwayne Hicks has acted 

improperly and beyond his authority. Furthermore, that you failed in your 

duty to maintain the required level of military discipline, and in view of 

the seriousness of the outcome you are hereby reduced to the rank of Private 

and suspended until such time that you're considered fit for duty. 

 All relevant material to this case is sealed indefinitely, for the good of 

the public." 

 He stood through every agonizing moment, before calmly and deliberately 

turning on his heels and striding out without a word. Nobody called him back. 

 

 "Ellen Ripley, your conduct during this affair has been noted, and you will 

receive the boards decision on the return of your ICC license in due course." 

 And that was that. All neat and tidy. By the book. Legal. Final. No right of 

appeal. 

 

 In other words, keep your mouth shut, and there might yet be a future for 

you with us. Fuck you, she thought. She wasn't banking on false hopes. Not 

this time. 

 

 The dirty work done, the officials started packing to leave. 

 "Ripley, the memorial service for the Colonists and soldiers will be 

broadcast this afternoon, as soon as the relatives have been informed. You're 

invited to attend if you like", Van Leuwen added. 

 She waited until the last official had left before returning to her 

apartment. 


 

 Hicks returned to the Sulaco. The MP's on guard didn't challenge him for ID 

when he marched through the connecting airlock. They knew who he was and why 

he was there. 

 In 2 days the vessel was shipping out with a new crew. Unlikely he'd ever 

see it again. His last job here was clearing out his locker, then it didn't 

matter. He'd find a station apartment and a temporary job until he was 

reassigned or worse. 

 The bastards really knew how to twist stories around their chubby unworked 

corporate fingers. Company lies against his mens lives. The colonists lives. 

A few pieces of paper had thrown them all away without the slightest sign of 

human compassion. 

 Hicks went to the common exercise room to let off steam, starting on 

bringing himself back to peak condition while he was about it. Then he 

showered and dressed in off-duty attire before watching Newscasts on the 

control deck, whiling away the hours before he had to be off the vessel. 

 

 Ripley didn't really feel like it, but she hit the "on" stud on the TV to 

watch the memorial broadcast at about the same time as Hicks. 

 The Company president himself was delivering the edict. No wonder. This 

reflected directly on everything he and his predecessors had fought for. 

 "....The Colonists had no way of knowing there was a dormant alien virus on 

the planet. They came across it in the normal course of exploration, and all 

but one died as a result." 

 

 WHAT!!?! 

 

 Ripley stormed out and ran up the corridor, heading for the reception area. 

 

 The job done, The Company president was striding quickly down the corridor 

away from the Media. He despised coverage, more so actually being on Camera. 

Far better to pull the strings from above and give people other faces to see. 

 As always, he was escorted by his chubby little Lawyer. Today he also had 

his new Secretary, Vanessa, walking in step with him. She was the quickest 

learner he'd ever known; he was training her up personally for the job. 

Averaging a few steps behind, were his faithful executive hangers-on. 

 He was pleased with himself. He had a right to be, now that this unpleasant 

little affair was tidied up without a hitch. This way, anything that leaked 

could be ignored or written off as an unsubstantiated rumour, especially with 

every scrap of evidence locked securely inside the Company computers. 

 Nothing could be allowed to interfere with the special projects, that was 

where his backup clout was. He was fully prepared to use any means fair or 

foul to advance them, no matter what. 

 

 Directly ahead, the corridor took a right angle bend towards his office. An 

upset-looking woman had emerged from behind it, striding toward him. Nice 

looking Dame, he thought. Subtly he adjusted course to allow her to pass to 

one side. 

 Instead, she grabbed him by the collar and threw him against the wall. 

 "You Bastard! You think you can get away with murder like that?" she shouted 

at him before his executives pounced and dragged her clear. 

 "Who's this?", he contemptuously demanded while brushing the imagined grime 

off his suit. 

 Ripley got an arm free. The stinging, open handed slap crackled in the 

hallway. 

 There was a moment of stunned silence before his minders got a firmer hold 

and pulled her further away. 

 "She's the one from the Sulaco. Don't take action against her, it wouldn't 

look good", Roberts lawyer advised. 

 "And let the Bitch get away with that?" 

 "In court she could say anything relevant to the case in her defence. I 

can't advise strongly enough to let it slide." 

 Shit. For once he was in a fix. 

 

 "Let her go", he finally said. 

 

 Reluctantly they did so. Ripley shook free and strode off in the opposite 

direction. At least she'd made her feelings known, for what it was worth. 

 

 The President looked to Vanessa for support. It wasn't forthcoming. 

 "Don't look so surprised, you backed her into a corner with no exit and she 

fought back. It wasn't so unexpected." 

 "You're an associate, you're supposed to be on my side." 

 "Business, yes. That was personal, and I'm staying out of it. You've said 

many times I've got a mind of my own. Let me use it, will you?" 

 "Don't you ever get mad at anyone? It helps." 

 "Maybe it does. I wouldn't know." 

 Ouch. He hadn't expected Vanessa to sting like that. Her loyalty was 

unquestioned though; he'd let her have her way. She was an invaluable asset 

to his work. 

 Actually, while he was in the mood, there was another job to do... 

 

 Bishop was standing not far off. He'd observed this byplay in silence. One 

advantage of being an Android was, he could process sound input and as a 

result, hear far better than humans. 

 What he couldn't understand was; what did the presidents associates 

whispering amongst themselves mean by 'A bit of fluff on the side?' 

 

 The President watched Ripley calmly striding away without so much as an 

afterthought or a look back. 

 "I want that bitch", he said to nobody in particular. 

 "Maybe I can help you with that", Bill piped up. 

 "I'm listening, Bill." 

 "She's about to get her commercial flight license back." 

 "We'll see about that. People don't live on gateway unless they work here. 

What does she do?" 

 "She's in the cargo docks, running forklifts and stuff" 

 "She's fired." As an afterthought to the lawyer, "Is it safe?" 

 "Call it... 'Labor restructuring' or something and she can't prove 

anything." 

 

 Right, this had gone far enough, Hicks decided. The time for talk was over. 

 Engineers and welders were busily restoring the interior of the vessel. A 

new dropship had been installed. A senior officer and a few men were 

inspecting the Sulaco; their new home. 

 He ignored all of this and went straight to his locker. Bag. Open locker. 

Clothing, Souvenirs from a dozen worlds, a womans jewellery, exotic 

cigarettes and a lighter tumbled into the bag as they spilled out. 

 Four innocuous little packages remained. Plastic explosive. "For emergency 

use only", he muttered. He remembered Apones strict caution on the stuff. 

"Never, ever store it with detonators, or grenades. But always keep some in 

your emergency kit. It can't explode unless it's detonated. If you're lost 

and half frozen, throw some on a fire and it'll warm you up better than 

anything else. Strictly speaking, it's an offence to keep some, but use your 

heads about where you store your bit, and I'll overlook it." 

 Well, he was grateful for Apone bending the rules for his mens benefit. 

Apone always put his subordinates first. He had relied on them every bit as 

much as they relied on them. Time to repay the favor. 

 Hicks opened Hudsons locker. As expected, the Comtechs pigeonhole contained 

a minor arsenal of electronics. He was sure Hudson wouldn't have minded him 

taking some for what he had in mind. Scrupulously avoiding Hudsons personal 

effects, he sorted out what he needed. An electronic detonator and some det 

cord joined the plastique in his bag. At the last moment he added a selection 

of bugging devices and a few necessary tools and parts. 

 

 Ripley barely had a chance to return to her apartment when her console began 

beeping for attention. 

 "Hello?", she answered as she pressed the 'answer' stud. 

 The Dockside manager. Ah, a big freighter was in and they needed her help 

unloading. 

 "Hello Ripley... Ummm.. I'm afraid I have some very bad news for you", he 

said. 

 "Go on." 

 "I've been instructed that you are no longer working for us. I'm so sorry. 

It wasn't my choice, believe me. You're a good worker, you don't deserve..." 

 "WHO instructed you?" 

 "Some Company hotshot called Bill." 

 "Bill?" 

 "You know him? 

 "I thought I did... Look... don't worry, I know it wasn't your fault. I know 

they went over your head." 

 "Ripley... you deserve better than this." 

 "Don't we all? I hope we cross paths again, you're good to work for. All the 

best for you and your family, Stephen." 

 

 "Wheres Bills card? I'm gonna blister the bastards ears..", she began. 

 

 Again, the console beeped for attention. 

 "Ellen Ripley?", a security officer asked. 

 "Yes?" 

 "It's come to our notice that you are no longer employed on this station, 

and neither is your presence on this station required for flight duty. 

Therefore, we are compelled to order you to return to Earth within 48 hours. 

Do you have any questions?" 

 She disconnected without a word. 

 

 She wasn't needed here. That meant her contract was gone. The Company had 

won, it had taken her future. She had been naive to think she could make a 

dent in their plans, she saw that now. Justice in their eyes had nothing to 

do with protecting the innocent, it was about winning. But she'd tried. God, 

she'd tried. At least she had Newt. Although that was still far from final, 

they had each other for now. She could go peacefully on tonights shuttle, or 

she could wait a few days and make a scene when the security people turned 

up. No, she'd go tonight. She'd been manhandled enough, and she wasn't 

exposing Newt to that. And Dwayne? She'd contact him afterwards, it was 

better that way. It wasn't like she had nothing, she still had a perfectly 

acceptable set of skills for work on Earth. But not with an ICC-owned company 

or a subsidiary. Even if she wasn't blacklisted, she'd refuse on principle to 

have anything to do with them. 

 The door beeped for attention. Fuck off. A second time. Again, she ignored 

it. 

 "Ellen, It's Dwayne. Are you in there?" 

 Ripley pounced on the door, and literally dragged him through the doorway. 

He fell into her arms, dropping the laden bag at her feet as she pulled the 

door shut behind them. 

 "I know", he said. "I know what they did. To you, to me. And the bastards 

are getting away with everything." 

 "This was only ever meant to be a short term job, but it's all I had. Now 

it's gone. Everything I've worked for is gone." Ripley looked like she wanted 

to cry. 

 Hicks pulled back. "No! Don't let them have the privilege. Consider their 

hatred to be a badge of honour." 

 Despite herself, Ripley smiled. 

 "Do you always know what to say to make someone feel good?" 

 "No, I fake it most of the time. A soldier has to look like he's got 

everything covered. To look cool, you understand." 

 

 In his arms she felt warm, comfortable and wanted. This was the closest she 

had gotten to him. On Acheron she had felt his warm body against her as he 

instructed her in the use of a pulse-rifle. Then, it had been innocent and 

purely necessary, and she remembered mentally struggling to not edge closer 

to him. Now, it was shared and personal. 

 Silence. Their eyes met. Neither looked away. 

 Hicks felt a sudden twinge of guilt, thinking he was getting a little 

familiar, and pulled back a few inches. 

 Not this time, she was having none of it. "No... hold me, please", Ripley 

pleaded. 

 Relieved that the feeling was mutual, he pulled close again. 

 "Is it true, a soldier has a girlfriend at every port?", she asked. 

 "I've had my share. I won't try to hide the fact." 

 "You're honest too. I like that. Hicks..." 

 He knew what was next. 

 "Yes?" 

 "Make love to me." 

 "You're sure?" 

 "I need it, right now." 

 With one swift movement he scooped her up into his arms. Hicks was grateful 

for the years of physical training that helped him to easily carry Ripley's 

unresisting form over to the bed. 

 "I take that to mean 'yes'?" 

 "How long have we got?", Hicks replied. 

 Ripley glanced at the wall clock. "3 hours before Newt comes back." 

 "Good. I want to take my time and make you feel good. Okay?" 

 "Yes, oh, yessss....", Ripley begged. 

 She lifted her butt off the bed while he pulled her trousers off, then undid 

her shirt from the bottom up. He could plainly see a few dark hairs poking 

out of Ripleys skimpy white underwear, and barely restrained himself from 

slipping a finger underneath immediately. Her firm proud breasts with big 

dark Areolae were visibly aching for attention as he released them from 

hiding. 

 "Close your eyes, Love. Just lie back and relax", Hicks asked. 

 He found what he was looking for, a spare sheet. He swept it over her 

near-naked body, covering her from neck to toe. Then slowly, ever so slowly, 

he pulled it down her body whilst holding it low to maintain body contact. He 

repeated this two more times. As expected, by the third time she was visibly 

relaxed. Another few more times and she'd likely nod off. 

 "Where did you learn that? It's wonderful", she murmured. 

 "A former girlfriend taught me that. It really works, doesn't it?", he 

answered, as he started massaging his was up her leg. Ripley know what was 

coming as his soothing hands closed on her crotch, and she spread her legs 

slightly to allow access. 

 The higher he got, the warmer her flesh became. Yes, there was no doubt 

about it now, he could see a faint but distinct moistness on her panties as 

he homed toward them. Finally Ripley felt a finger ease under the band, and 

groaned loudly whe