Aliens vs Predator 2 - War
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War
Aliens vs Predator - Book 2
Steve Perry
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Table Of Contents
Chapter I
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Chapter 1
They set down just after dawn or whatever passed for it on the unnamed planet; the dirty light from two distant stars lay across the rocky world like smog, an early bath of murky yellow haze that did nothing to improve Noguchi's mood. It looked like gaseous piss, and even with the steady pump of adrenaline coursing through her, the intensity that came from knowing she was about to face death, she found herself wondering if it was worth it anymore.
In the back. Again. After so many training Hunts that I could teach them myself ...
They waited for the signal in the main loading dock, the planet's ugly surface displayed on a small screen set into the door. Flashes of glistening black darted across the screen, raising the level of greedy anticipation in the stuffy, overwarm air. Noguchi tried to breathe evenly, wishing that the masks had a better filter system; it was hot, dark, and she couldn't get away from Hunter musk. Dia-shui, they called it, along with a clicking that she couldn't pronounce. It was a cloying, animal smell, and the heat made her feel like she was bathing in it.
Probably not so hot up front. Where I belong.
It wasn't a new thought, but it still stung. Noguchi shook herself mentally, working to slide into the focus she would need, to concentrate her energy-but it wouldn't come. She felt overheated and irritated, crowded by the towering young males all around her. The suits had individual thermostats, but even at the low end they were well over human comfort levels, and since the unnamed planet was cold by Hunter standards, the others had theirs cranked up. The heat from their suits combined with the thick, oily musk they secreted, created a humid, feral atmosphere alive with the clicking growls of barely checked excitement. At one time, the sounds and smells had excited her, too, but today it only made her wonder again if this was where she wanted to be.
Focus, focus, focus ...
Right. It didn't matter that she was in the back, or in the middle of the back, the worst position from which to score a kill. Didn't matter that she bore Broken Tusk's mark and was still Hunting from the least honorable position- .
stop it! Focus or die, you can't have both.
Beneath the sweaty face mask, Noguchi gritted her teeth, silently cursing her wounded pride. It wasn't the time or place to be bemoaning her lot or letting her emotions take over; this was a queen Hunt. It wouldn't be scored, not burner only, but that didn't mean it was going to be a walk. She kept her gaze front and center, finding Topknot's raised claw and fixing on it. She couldn't see the Leader from her position-most yautja stood two and a half meters, some taller-but the taloned fingers were visible to everyone in the pyramid formation. There were five half-trained novices in a line in front of her, three on either side; the three lead positions were for the more experienced Hunters--where I should be-
-and though the Leader was almost always in front, one of the two males behind Topknot had been unBlooded on her first Hunt; even then, she'd outranked him, and on the last Hunt, she'd killed six drones, only one behind Topknot himself-but being ooman, as they called it, meant that she'd pulled rear guard. Again.
At least you're here; he could have denied you even this. There are twenty-something trainees just hissing to take your spot. Better to place low than not to place at all
There was a shuddering rumble all around, the metallic floor shaking underfoot and a flash of brilliant light on the small viewscreen as the ship's weapons laid down cover. Topknot chittered a command and the other yautja raised their burners, growling excitedly, jostling each other in anticipation. Topknot signed as he spoke, one of the simple gestures that was specific to Hunting. "Prepare" was the gist of it, the raised claw twisting back and forth, the talons curled into a fist.
Noguchi held her own burner high, the dark metal of the alien rifle hot and heavy in her hands, feeling her heart start to beat faster. A glance at the screen showed an increase in lithe movement as another rumble shook the ship, as beams of burning light from the carrier shot into the early-morning haze and black bodies flew.
Topknot let out a battle cry, a guttural shriek of bloodlust that pierced the wet heat and brought the others to a frenzy point. More screeching cries and violent hisses filled the shadowy dock, the musk smell growing thicker as the Hunters screamed, shaking back their ropelike locks, holding their weapons high. The passion, the hunger was impossible to ignore and Noguchi let it in, her own howling voice lost in the furor, joyously reminded of the reasons she'd joined with them in the first place. She wasn't yautja and maybe they hated her for it, but she shared this one thing with them, this religion of spirit that defined her deepest self.
The Hunt. The kill.
Still screaming, Topknot opened the door and they plunged out into the hazy morning light, a thousand dark drones running to meet them and howling their own warrior cries, teeth dripping and arms grasping. Noguchi picked her first target and fired, feeling nothing but alive.
The queen had called all of her minions home, and though the ship was less than a hundred meters from the hive, they had to fight for every centimeter. Even from her guarded position, Noguchi took out five within the first minute, and the unBlooded were killing beyond their wildest expectations. Even though it wasn't to be officially scored, there was some small honor in numbers.
The hive was in a marshy area and the splashes of the spiny, taloned bugs as they came was a pounding storm, tails whipping up muck, shining exoskeletons mottled with black mud. They didn't come in waves but in a wave; there was no lull in the onslaught, no time to breathe between kills. It was a tsunami of needle teeth and razor claws, of grinning, trumpeting death.
Noguchi didn't think. She danced, swirling and feinting, spinning and firing explosive heat through the wall of bodies. Behind to the left, a shrieking, elongated skull blown into shards. Claws and arms flying in multiple directions, legs smashed and falling, grinning metal teeth shattering. An alien chest bursting with a splash of green acid, the blood hitting the murky water, the swamp turning to bubbling steam before the Hunters had gone a third of the distance.
The fire from the ship continued to clear a path through the worst of it, but there was still no break in the running bodies. Like ants or bees, the drones sacrificed themselves to protect their queen mother, an individual's life meaningless to the good of the hive. They came from everywhere at her beckoning, alerted by some pheromone or telepathy; not even the Hunters knew.
The scents of slime and musk, of fire and some dark and unnatural thing, of alien filled the hot, close space inside Noguchi's mask. She didn't smell it, didn't feel the steaming heat, didn't see anything but the next target. And the next. And the next, as the small band of Hunters pushed on to the nest, leaving broken, bleeding creatures in their wake.
Another bug, down, another screaming, clutching monster rushing at her-and she was roughly shoved aside.
"Hey! Dammit -"
Noguchi stumbled, hard, her concentration blown for the half second it took her to realize what had happened. She reflexively brought her burner up, pointed it at her assailant, but didn't fire.
Fucking bastard
The competition for kills on the Hunt was fierce, but there had been no call for what the yautja had done. Except for a very few, the drones had broken off their attack; it gave her ample time to hate him as he took out the drone in her stead. Shorty. Of all the novices, he was the one most often singled out as a target by the others; he was barely a head taller than she, distinctly undersized, and in the weeks that his group had trained under Topknot, he'd gone out of his way to take out his frustrations on her.
"Ell-osde' pauk!" Noguchi snarled at him, the yautja equivalent of "fuck you." She'd heard it often enough.
Shorty let out a stream of derisive language. She caught only part of it, pyode amedha, "soft meat," a slur for human, and a negative yautja sound for female. She wasn't particularly insulted until she heard her own words echoed back at her.
"-lei-k' hey, dammit, ka'tun-de!"
He laughed, then, an imitation of human laughter, a braying mockery. Yautja didn't laugh like that; like the mimicry, it was meant to offend.
There wasn't time to dwell on it. Topknot had already stepped into the gaping black mouth of the hive and one of the other Blooded was motioning the trainees inside, covering, only a few dozen bugs still attempting to get close to them. Noguchi shoved past the laughing Hunter, forcing her anger aside as the thick stench of rotting animal flesh washed over her from the darkness. Nests were dangerous, and being pissed at Shorty would take up too much of her awareness.
Doesn't matter. Let him laugh. He didn't know how much better at the Hunt she was than he, and with any luck, she'd soon find opportunity to demonstrate-and even as she thought it, she saw a glistening string of liquid drip down from above, a long and sticky drop that spooled past her, almost invisible in the thick shadows. Topknot and most of the-others were several meters in front of her, edging into deeper shadow
-and as she leapt to one side, raising her burner, the drone dropped from above, landing in a crouch only a few meters away, but not facing her. It was silent and quick, its body blending into the dusky light, and Shorty didn't see it until it reached for him.
Noguchi allowed herself a second of total satisfaction as the drone snatched at Shorty's arm, its claws landing heavily on his burner, blocking him from defense. An experienced Hunter might still have a chance, there were the wrist blades, but Shorty was basically fucked.
What goes around ...
She was in position, but she waited a beat longer until she was absolutely sure that he understood how badly he'd screwed up. She wished she had more time to savor it, but the revenge, however sweet, was still secondary to survival inside the hive. She took a deep breath, and then she did the worst thing she could possibly do to Shorty.
The blast from her weapon caught the bug in its abdomen, its snaking green guts blown off into the dark. Even with the alien screams from outside, Noguchi could hear the gangly body clatter to the floor, and the silent appraisal from the Hunters behind her was a palatable thing. No way they'd missed what had happened.
The mask hid her grin, and there was no point in laughing. If there was any greater dishonor in Clan etiquette, she'd never heard of it. Not only had he been denied an honorable death, his peers and -betters had just seen him have his fighting done for him-and by an alien, no less, one even smaller than he.
Shorty stood perfectly still, head tilted down at the drone body. One of the other young males started to laugh, a clattering, trilling sound that always made her think of a bird with a broken windpipe trying to sing. He was quickly joined by the others.
Not so much fun being laughed at, is it?
Noguchi shot a look at the assembled Hunters in time to see Topknot signal "enough" and growl a command to Shorty. She only recognized the sound of his name, but knew what Topknot had asked even before Shorty walked stiffly toward the Leader; he'd been assigned to be in the middle of the hive line, protected front and back.
He wouldn't laugh at her anymore, but it would be wisest not to let her guard down until Shorty was Blooded and gone. She almost felt bad for him, but reminded herself that if he wasn't such an asshole, she would have let him die; he deserved the dishonor, for being such a goddamn bully.
Topknot signaled for them to proceed, Noguchi taking her position second to last-Shorty's place. When someone screwed up in battle, the other yautja generally congratulated each other on getting a better spot, a growling, shoving version of a high five-but no one would look at her, and as they started down the entry tunnel, the temperature and humidity rising with each uneven step, Noguchi felt as isolated and ignored as usual.
Doesn't matter, I don't need their approval to Hunt and if I wanted friends, I would have left Ryushi with the colonists, gone back to Earth.
Where she'd never had any friends.
Before they'd gone ten meters, all of her defenses were securely back in place. The queen was close, and the thrill of knowing she'd be facing a queen mother again, even as part of a team, would go a long way to compensate for the loneliness of the past year. The drones were as stupid and mindless as ants, but the egg-layer, the queen ...
An opponent worthy of respect, cunning and resourceful-and one she felt more of a connection to than any of the yautja she'd encountered, with the exception of the one they'd called Dachande, Broken Tusk. The one who'd died after Blooding her, after the massacre on Ryushi. The one who'd led her to believe that the yautja were a race capable of appreciating any skilled Hunter, no matter what species
Behind her, Scar clattered an angry warning for her to move faster and kicked at the back of her leg. It would have hurt if she hadn't stepped quickly forward at the sound of his voice. As unpopular as Shorty was, he was yautja-and even after such a monumental fuckup, he was still more popular than she.
So much for appreciation. Noguchi clenched her jaw and reminded herself that the queen was close.
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Chapter 2
Ellis was strapped in and asleep, and Jess obviously wasn't in the mood to talk; he stared sullenly at the vidscreen from the copilot seat, at the passing black of space as he'd done for the last four hours. Not a word, and although Lara wouldn't have minded a little conversation, she didn't want to invade his privacy. Privacy on the small shuttle meant closing your eyes when someone needed to pee, a difficult enough activity in zero grav; if Jess wanted to be alone with his thoughts, she could at least give him that.
Not much point in making small talk anyway ...
Lara closed her tired, grainy eyes for a moment, amazed that the thought of their upcoming deaths hadn't lost any of its punch. They'd lived with it for almost three days, and it still made her stomach knot each time she thought of it, even after the nightmare of 949. She'd been prepared, then, with other lives depending on her actions. Now, though ...she didn't want to die, and she particularly didn't want to die from asphyxiation in a cramped, cold shuttle in the depths of space. Even with the patch job on the filters, they only had another fifteen, twenty hours of breathe time. And though DS 949 hadn't been as DS as most, the shuttle's bare-bones navigation system was strictly self-contained, no hook
ups, not even a list of planets or 'toids in the quadrant; it had been designed as a go between, ship to shore, not for deepspace transport, which meant, simply, that if there was anywhere to go, they weren't going to find it.
She opened her eyes, looking again at the trail of glowing green numbers on the small console screen. They'd been headed .82 since bailing from the terminal, only because she thought she remembered a survey office somewhere in the low eights; it was a long shot, but it wasn't like they had any alternatives. If they were on the Nemesis, they'd have been picked up by now; their old ship had been wired for serious range - and it was blown to shit along with Pop, the station, and about a million alien bugs. Why not wish for something you can have, like freeze-dried bean curd? Or a nap?
Sleep sounded good. She'd caught a few hours earlier, but it had been more like falling unconscious than real sleep. Ellis had been knocked out for most of their trip, which was just as well; the Max interface had done a number on him, and not just physically. The kid had saved their lives, for what it was worth, but it had cost him.
Lara glanced at Jess and tried to remember the last time he'd slept. Just after the escape, she thought. The loss of Teape and Candyman had been bad for him, worse than for her or Ellis; both men had died badly, and under his command. She'd tried telling him that it was Pop's fault, Pop and the Company's greedy indifference to the Max teams, but Jess seemed determined to take it on himself.
Sixty hours? More?
"Jess, you wanna catch a few zees? I'll stay up, make sure the beacon doesn't conk out ...
Jess started as if from a trance. He looked over at her, his face expressionless. "No, that's okay. I'm good."
Lara studied him, his deep brown features set into grim lines, the exhaustion and hurt and shame in his gaze. Tired and sad she could live with, but she'd left him alone about what had happened for long enough; too long, maybe.