..::ALIEN::.. ..::BEGINS::..

[Crystal Tears]

The sewers are a dark, dangerous place to those who didn't know them. So many things lurked beneath the Dome City 'Haven'. But to Tim Burtoc, the sewers were like a second home. They matched his persona, smelly, dirty and disgusting. He thrived down here, cleaning them, making sure there were no gas build-ups. With a reluctant sigh, he began to make his way back, the day had gone by like usual: with nothing interesting to report, and nothing interesting seen.

A small splash made him turn, curious, he shown his flash light onto the black, gurgling water that was barely flowing. He could see it, whatever 'it' was. Swimming down the darkened waters at an unusually fast pace. Ignoring all reason and his own inner desire to back away, Tim neared it. Hell, he leaned down.

From that he saw: it was a deep orange colour, with eight, thick, finger-like legs and a slightly armoured tail. It was flat; looking similar to a fossil in the museum he had seen a couple of days ago, though he couldn't remember its name. He leaned closer, almost to the point where he could grab it.

His world disappeared then, the stench of the sewers, the darkness of his lovely dirty world. All vanished within a second.

He wasn't the first to disappear, about a week later, two other sewer works vanished, their bodies lost in the foul darkness of the labyrinth of tunnels. Soon, the disappearances and strange sightings plague the above world; the attackers only seemed to appear at night. People were desperate, that sent distress calls to the ships that were supposed to be patrolling close by to this planet. No answer, unknown to them, the ships were at war, far from the desert planet and its dome City Haven. They people were trapped.

And now they're attackers were appearing at dawn.

Accepted
1. Valerie Midland ~ Crystal Tears
2. Celia Midland ~Toxicity
3. Gaert T'il Sippor ~ Blademaster
4. Andrew Burton ~ Samchu
5. Evander Grove ~ Mystic_Clown
6. Adam Bannister ~ Ghost
7. Ish'Taa'Ahki ~ Outlaw JT


Valerie ‘Val’ Midland

26

Female

An attractive woman, Valerie has long, black hair that’s full, thick and has a slight wave to it. She has tan skin, bright blue eyes, and a gorgeous smile. Valerie stands at exactly 5’7’’, average height for a woman, and has a slim body and an agile build. She’s usually wearing dark blue jeans with a white leather belt, with a black spaghetti string top, and a deep blue denim jacket. On her wrists are numerous silver and gold bracelets. Around her neck is a silver locket that looks like half a heart, inside is a picture of her daughter.

Valerie is somewhat cynical and judgemental of men. She tends to think of them of nothing above a pig or a dog, and most prove her correct. She’s a mother, so she’s protective over her daughter, and her protectiveness has increased since the disappearing incidents. She's kind, caring and all around affectionate to her daughter and would never, ever do anything on purpose to intentionally hurt her in some way. She's nice to anyone when they first meet, and is reasonably trusting, shatter that trust however, and its hard to get back.

Valerie had a normal life up until she became pregnant. Her oh so loyal boyfriend of two years left her, saying how her child was a mistake. Valerie didn't share the same opinion, and wished the worst of luck, which could be fell him, to come. It seemed to work, her ex suffered from a serious case of bad luck while Valerie flourished, three years after having her child, she won the lottery, obtaining 25 million dollars. From that, Valerie and Celia lived comfortably, enjoying the luxuries of being rich.

Valerie was walking home with Celia from the park (; Celia was a sleep in her arms. Valerie became overwhelmed with the sense that her life, and the life of her precious daughter were in danger. She broke into a sprint, dashing down the sidewalk and upon reaching the nearest hover train, boarded it and looked out the window. Her daughter was surprisingly still asleep, so she didn't see it. But Valerie swears she saw something watching her from the darkness of the alley across the street. However, the train took off before she could get a clear look.

She's the mother of Celia Midland (Toxicity's Character). Open still.

She HATES the dark, though she won't say why.

Valerie Midland

The place seemed as if it were deserted. There was no laughter of children, no cries of a young baby, upset about not being fed yet, not even the cry of a mother who was desperately trying to get her son to listen. No, the emptiness was filled with fear and the soft pitter-patter of a child’s feet in the sand, yet she made no noise, and she seemed to make no attempt to understand where all the other kids were. She was an adorable child, with thick brown hair, a thin frame and had a cute little outfit as well. She turned, eyeing the woman on the bench carefully before smiling.

Valerie smiled back, waving to her little girl who grinned and turned back to digging in the sand while trying to keep her clothes clean. Valerie, or Val for sort, was the girl’s mother. A good mother or so Valerie would like to believe, Celia (her daughter) ran over to the swings, quietly swishing back and forth while the only sound that escaped the eerily quiet public park was the slight screeching of the chain link that held the swing. Valerie breathed in deep; Celia and all of her friends didn’t understand what was going on, and these trips to the parks were getting worse and worse. Everyday there seemed to be less and less people. Cautiously, Valerie looked around; she could see the faint outline of a patrolling guard, clinging to his weapon as if it were some sort of holy relic.

The wind blew through the park; it was cold, and not at all comforting. It felt like ice, though it didn’t seem to bother Celia at all. She was still smiling, quietly swinging as if nothing was wrong. Valerie remembered the news broadcast that alerted parents to not tell their children that the rebels were kidnapping anyone they could find, but something told Valerie otherwise, that experience before, during the evening. It made her feel as if it were something else, something that stirred your very core in a frenzy of uncontrolled fear. ‘Its’ essence attacked your primal instincts, and told you to run: run as far and as fast as you can.

“Mommy,” Valerie broke out of her thought and looked at her daughter. Celia had her head tilted slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” The mother smiled; lying through her teeth. But Valerie was an exceptional liar, one of the best. Her daughter usually couldn’t tell the difference. She pushed some of her black hair behind her shoulders and watched her daughter for another moment. “Ready to go back?”

Celia quickly stopped the swing and skipped over to her mother, who was already standing up and packing the left over bits of lunch into a plastic bag and then into her knapsack. Valerie wasn’t really that hungry, she’d eat her half of the sandwich once they got home, and she could relax. Celia was walking a bit ahead of her mother, oblivious to how keen Val was keeping watch. Every slight movement caught the woman’s eye, making her quickly turn and look. She never saw anything, but she was on edge. Something was making her skin crawl, making her overly protective.

‘What was that?’ Valerie thought while reaching out and grabbing her daughter, stopping her in her tracks. Celia turned to her mother, confused on why they had stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Celia looked up into Valerie’s lively blue eyes and then looked to where their gaze had fallen. “Something scary?”

Val’s heart felt as if it was ripping a way through her chest, it was pounding so hard, so fast. But when a teenaged boy who obviously had nothing to lose appeared and shrugged at the girls Valerie breathed a sigh of relief. The boy stayed in the alley way, rummaging around and kicking things over. Authorities were to busy trying to keep the panicking people and riots in control to mind a teenaged vandalism. Besides the boy was obviously a street kid, his clothes gritty and dirty, and he smelt as if he had not bathed in days.

Valerie looked down at her daughter and chuckled, Celia was looking up with a face of utter disgust while her finger and thumb clamped her nose firmly shut.

“He stinks.”

Val silenced her laugh and looked up to where the boy was and blinked. The boy, he was gone, surely that was impossible. He had made noise before, hell he had been rummaging around, how was it possible that he had simply vanished without a trace?

“Mommy,” Celia tugged on her mother’s pant leg. “Where’d he go?”

“I…” Valerie looked at the alley way and stepped into it. She looked down at the ground, and found the boy’s old hat was lying a bit further down the alley, lying near an old sewer drain. It was slanted downwards and the boy could’ve probably fit, but had he slipped? Surely he would’ve made noise then, but if he wanted to go down there purpose, well then… Maybe… “Don’t know…”

The woman’s eyes gazed into the darkness; Val knelt down and grabbed the hat quickly, fidgeting with it as she tried to see in the darkness. ‘I don’t know why anyone would go down there…’ She thought, tossing the hat into the darkness. ‘Hopefully he finds it.’

As she and her daughter walked away, the cold wind washed over them again, though it seemed darker then before. Something came over Val then; she scooped up her daughter and walked a bit faster, her mind thinking something cruel.

‘He’s dead.’

They’re building was close now, in fact, as they passed this rather large, annoying bank structure, they’d be there. Valerie hurried, and once they revealed the automatic doors that were guarded by armed men, Val put Celia down, content they were safe.

“Welcome home,” The men bowed, to the Midland family and a few others all returning from overly cautious trips outside their homes. Valerie nodded her head to the guard, smiling.

They were home.

[Outlaw JT]

Sorry I'm so late. Been distracted by family issues.

Ish'Taa'Ahki

47

Male

Ish'Taa'Ahki stands at an imposing 7'6", weighing in at a lean 328 pounds. Of course, he is merely average for his species as he is Yautja. He presents a strong muscular build when seen. His skin is a mottled light greenish gray with several black splotches around the face, sides and back. His 'hair' is braided neatly into a series of dreadlocks. His face when seen features four prominent mandibles, orange colored eyes, and a symbol resembling an upside down capital R with the lines unconnected on his forehead. He normally gives the usual appearance of a Yautja on the hunt (breastplate and mesh armor, hunting mask also with the 'R' symbol carved into it, usual hunting tools and weapons secured on his person) with the exception that he wears a cloak typically only worn by Honored or Elder in their culture. His Combi Stick is visibly secured to a belt and his shoulder mounted plasma caster is visibly secured behind his right shoulder. He appears to have something on either forearm that could be concealing additional weaponry (actually concealing his Smartdisc, retractable claws, netgun, and self-destruct counter). For reference, only the Smartdisc and Combi Stick are resilient against xenomorph blood. The mask has some resilience against it but won't withstand a constant source or a large splash.

Ish'Taa'Ahki is a blooded Warrior in rank among his society. He adheres to their code absolutely. He will only hunt prey capable of protecting itself. He takes this a step too far in some cases as he will challenge any warrior he sees hunting defenseless prey unless it appears to be for food. Fortunately he has only been rewarded with standing for this behavior as it has led to his acquisition of worthy trophies and the kill of two Badbloods (outcast fugitives from Yautja society). Many Elders criticize his enthusiasm in the matter, however, fearing he may inadvertently affect an ecosystem somewhere or draw unwanted attention to the hunt. He prides the purity of the hunt above all else and all of his behavior is colored by it.

He has led the typical life of a Yautja Warrior. Early on he showed great promise and through many hunts rose in rank quickly. He has a unique and diverse trophy case aboard his small one man ship which he earned by defeating a particularly brutal Badblood who had been slaughtering a native intelligent species on a world of one of his last hunts. He has hunted numerous alien species, both intelligent and animal, but has yet to hunt Kiandhe Amehde ('hard meat' referring to the xenomorphs) or 'Ooman' (human). He finally decided it was time to add Ooman to his depth of trophies and chose Haven as his hunting ground because of it's isolation from the rest of Ooman society. He arrived only days ago and so far has only been scouting out his potential prey.

Ish'Taa'Ahki is thus far unaware of the presence of xenomorphs and as such did not come fully prepared to hunt them. His plasma caster can only target them out in the open (not moving stealthily along walls as they usually do) and while he can easily hide from human detection he has no means of hiding from a xenomorphs senses. Recently he has targeted a police sergeant, two local gangs, and a group of construction workers as potential prey. He is getting ready to begin his hunt in earnest.

According to Yautja law, he is bound to hunt and kill any Badbloods he encounters. Although Gaert isn't violent he still qualifies as a Badblood so that should make things interesting.

He doesn't speak fluid English. He can comprehend the language well enough assisted by the translator built into his mask but can only mimic a few words to return communication should it become necessary.

Ish'Taa'Ahki
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night in the chosen hunting ground seemed unfavorably quiet. Ish'Taa recalled tales of other warriors who had chosen to hunt in the vast cities of their prey. They all spoke of many lights and great commotion at night. This Haven seemed almost calm in comparison to what he'd expected. Still, there was still prey moving in the night.

It had taken some patience but he had found one of his chosen prey. A leader of some kind who commanded a small territory in one of the darker sections of the hunting ground. The target was surrounded by five incidental targets and the six seemed to be stalking prey of their own. He had debated whether he should wait until their hunt was concluded but a thorough scan revealed that their prey was an unworthy target for six warriors. It had weak musculature, a small skull, and was completely unarmed. There was no honor in stalking such prey. So, Ish'Taa decided to strike just as they attempted to strike at their target.

Just as one of the six struck their prey with a large stick of some kind the rearmost silently dropped to the ground in two halves. The remaining five turned just as his smartdisc returned to his grip. One of them let out a loud yell of what he believed to be an expletive in their language. They could not see him but they could clearly see their fellow cut neatly in two bleeding profusely.

Ish'Taa quickly scanned their prey and determined it to be unconscious. With no witnesses he decided it was only fair to allow them to see their opponent. He touched a panel at his wrist and suddenly was visible to the ooman prey he stalked. There was much shouting and two of them reached for projectile weaponry he knew to be concealed in their clothing. They barely had time to level them before he was upon them. Claws sprouted from his right wrist mount and sliced through the one weapon rendering it useless. His left hand grabbed the hand holding the other projectile weapon and crushed it till the weapon clattered to the ground.

He threw the prey gripped by his left hand against the wall and then drew his combistick as he spun to face the targets attempting to circle him. With a quick press it expanded, impaling one of them through the chest. He swung it with great force and the impaled prey flew off and collapsed to the ground just as the weapon impacted the head of another. His combistick then twisted to meet the stick one of them had used to attack the weak prey, shattering it before Ish'Taa twisted again and thrust it forward impaling the targets head. It would have made a poor trophy, anyway.

This left only the two that he deemed worthy trophies, the leader and the largest of them. Ish'Taa retracted and secured his combistick and then unlatched his mask. With only the two worthy prey left he decided it fair to face them unarmed. Nothing but his own claws and skill. As he let his mask clatter to the ally floor he howled at them.

The large one charged him with fist raised while the leader seemed to cowardly try to run past him to escape. Ish'Taa let the big one connect his punch so that it would be easier to thrust his flat clawed palm into his gut. The flesh was soft and warm and wet inside. Ish'Taa quickly gripped the largest organ he could and ripped it free of the body. He then grabbed the stunned big man by the shoulder and threw him at the retreating leader. Their bodies collided and the leader stumbled.

Having retreated, Ish'Taa decided he wasn't worthy of a noble death by claw and his plasma caster swung into place. One precise shot and a six inch hole sailed clean through the leaders chest where his heart once was. Blood gurgled from his mouth just before he collapsed. The whole hunt had been decidedly less exhilerating than he had hoped. He failed to see why others thought oomans such a worthy hunt. Perhaps his next target would be more worthy.

With the six targets dead he began the process of claiming his trophies and cleaning up the kill. Fortunately the alley he was in had abandoned building on either side. He moved the six corpses into one of them, having forced open the side door. Four of the six he simply skinned and hung by their ankles from the ceiling. It was customary to hang the meat of unworthy prey. The other two, he carefully removed the skulls and spines intact and still connected.

It had been a disappointing hunt. They had almost been less worthy prey to him as that bystander had been to them in the end. Ish'Taa scanned their prey one last time. It was still breathing but remained out cold. He dragged the prey out to the street and left it on the sidewalk. Best it not wake to discover the blood and his own prey so quickly.

OOC: People should start posting now. Feel free to have one of your human characters be the person the gang tried to beat. You could maybe even have them come to just in time to see Ish'Taa departing.

[Samchu]

*dashes in with bagel* sorry i'm late!

Andrew Burton
~~~~~~~~~~

The screen flashed numbers before me and I sighed. "Just another night at the office."

"What are you complaining about now Andrew?"

I stared across to my colleague on the other side of the desk, another set of numbers were reflected in the glass of his spectacles. "Just the usual Marcus."

He shook his head. "Just do your damn job Andy."

"Yeah well my job sucks," I grumbled and turned back to the ever-growing lines of numbers. "It sucks as much as this dna sequence. I can't believe I'm wasting my time with this crap." I looked towards the lab's interior window just in time to see a group of military officials stride past. "Looks like another meeting..." It wasn't unusual to see hoardes of military personnel patroling our corridors these days. What with all the disappearances and everything; they were holding meetings here every other hour.

I sighed again. "And they still have no fucking idea what's going on..."

"What's that Andrew?"

"Nothing." I typed a few commands into my computer. "I'm calling it a night. I'll leave the research running through the computer, check the results by hand tomorrow."

"Whatever."

I made my way to the conference room and loitered in the corridor outside. The meeting dragged on for hours and I quickly found myself becoming good friends with the vending machine. When the doors finally opened and a stream of disgruntled looking men and women filtered out, I hid next to it. Stuart found me of course. But then again, he was the only one who knew I'd be there.

"So what's the news?"

He opened his mouth to reply but Jessica walked passed and he was quickly distracted. Big tits, tight ass and a pair of legs you dreamt about wrapping round you. Poor guy didn't stand a chance.

"Stuart, focus. What went on in there?"

"Doesn't matter. I know what I want to go on in there..."

"Stuart! For the love of God can you take your mind off that skank for five minutes."

"You're just mad because she dumped you for that mexican in immigrations."

"Staurt -"

"I mean seriously dude. When was the last time you got some action? I bet it hasn't been since the two of you-"

I grabbed his shirt and pulled his face within inches from mine. "For fuck sakes just tell me what happened in the fucking meeting!"

"Alright, alright! Jeez!" I let go of him and he straightened his suit before continuing. "They're pushing the idea of rebels."

"Bullshit! They haven't got the resources to pull off this kind of thing! If they would just let me -"

"Do you want me to tell you what I heard?"

I nodded.

"They're pushing the idea of the incidents being carried out by rebels because it's the only explaination they can come up with and if they don't give the people some information - be it false or otherwise - then they're going to have an uprising on their hands."

"Until they can prove it, no one's going to believe them."

He handed me a file. "These are latest figures. Maybe if you find something, they'll actually start believing you for a change." He turned and left, leaving me alone in the corridor.

The entire ride back I thought about what Stuart had said. He'd always defended the idea of rebels being behind the attacks; why change now? I looked at the armed guard sat three rows before me. The bus was empty apart from us. I decided it was safe to look through the file.

It helps, at times like those, to befriend someone in the know. Since his promotion, Stuart had easy access to everything I could possibly need to carry out my own investigation; names, places, times. Somewhere amongst all this useless information was the answer to our problem. Rebels...what a joke.

I started by reading off the names of the missing. This list was longer than the last; a feature I had been gradualing noticing as the weeks passed. "Gareth Drayton, Malcolm Barnes, Amanda Kissinger, Harriet Jones, Bob Harris, Natasha..." I froze, "...Thoms." I shook my head sadly. "Stuart, why didn't you tell me?"

Natasha and Stuart had been married for just over a year.

At the time of her disappearance, she was six months pregnant with their child.

As soon as I got home I began marking out the locations of the abductions on the map hung in my study. These new victims were spread even greater than the last. I ran the numbers through my head. "Thirty more this week tha last. There's no way the rebels have enough men to pull this off, or enough technology to orchastrate it all. But who'd abduct seemingly random civilians and why?" I paced the floor of my study. "I've got a bad feeling this is only the beginning."