The world seemed to shift into a horrific slow motion as Mark turned to face the stairs behind him. He could hear them, hear the thousand clicking feat of the xeno horde. It was a nightmare’s sound, something he instantly knew he'd never forget the sound of, presuming he somehow managed to live to sleep another night. Finally, after the eternity of just a few seconds, he had managed to turn to see the first of the wall of blackened carapace crawling the walls of the stairs at him. He raised his weapon, steadying it by the instinct of training and pulled the trigger. It beeped. He realized suddenly he was still holding the motion tracker, not a pistol. He dropped it and reached for his shotgun. It was too late. The xenos were almost on top of him. One of the monsters in the lead jumped.
He wasn't dead. The xeno hadn't jumped on him, it had jumped to the wall to avoid him. In an instant he realized these creatures were of such single mind, so focused on their ordered task, that Mark and Lewis had become not a target but a simple obstruction, of no more interest to the aliens than box or tree. Mark grabbed Lewis’ arm and pulled the man forward with him, deeper into the swarming mass. The xenomorphs swarmed around them like insects fleeing a flood as they ran down the stairs and back for the main lobby.
“Coming down the stairs! For god’s sake don’t shoot us.” He yelled into the comms just moments before he broke loose of the horde and stumbled forward into the main lobby. Seeing all the guns still pointed essentially in his direction, Giosso quickly pulled himself and the squad smart gunner off to the side to clear the lanes of fire. Orders started coming back to him as he found himself with a moment to breathe. Call APC, Call Snakefighter. Support, we need support.
Giosso lifted his wrist and punched a few codes into it, activating the heavy duty comms gear in his backpack. “Pope! Warm up all the APC systems and get it down here! Get ready for immediate extraction, Over.” He punched another button, linking him to the Snakefighter. “Immediate air support! Immediate air support! There’s a horde of xenomorphs headed this way, engage them at will!”
Mark was about to repeat his communications when a new sound came to his ears, a roar like the ignition of a gas barbeque turned up to eleven. He didn't know what it meant, but it was coming down the stairs quickly and the marine couldn't imagine any way it was something he wanted to be around. “Incoming!” he yelled as he started sprinting away from the stairs as fast as his weak, overloaded legs could manage.
<Tag Morse, et al>
<Comm Use x2>
<Athletics to outrun fireball>
Pvt. Mark Giosso
3rd Bn, 2nd Reg, 1st Co, 8th Plt
Security Systems Master
Communications / Computer and Motion Tracker Operation Expert
Surveillance Equipment Operation Professional