USCMRPG

As Morse looked over Petty Officer Batara Singh, he realized that it was too late. The man’s blue turbined head hung limply to the side, he had gone into shock and died. (Critical failure)

The Navy guys grilled Erikson to see what he knew, but nothing came from his mouth except for coughing and blood. Stark’s knife had obviously found something critical and Erikson was dying.

As Paulson sounded off about the new threat, they raised their weapons and saw two men in similar uniform to the dying enemy beneath their feet. Behind them appeared the final xenomorph, charging straight at them. Morse aimed his rifle and splattered the alien before it could overtake the two. Stark and Perez moved forward and apprehended the two men, who were coughing and panting from their sustained sprint.

Meanwhile, the outer door to the facility opened. A small light blinked green and a computerized voice said, “All contaminants neutralized, lockdown cancelled.” At the sight of natural light, the scientists stood dumbstruck with mouths open and eyes watering. Tears of overwhelming mixed emotions poured over their faces.

Then they saw Gibson and Terry and they were roughly shoved into the middle of the group by the sailors. “You! You…” sputtered Katie, “You’re gonna die!” she screamed and launched herself at Mister Terry. He howled as she tore into him with teeth and fingernails, like a caged animal finally unleashed on its tormentor. Terry tried to get away but he had the disadvantage of knowing he deserved all this and more.
(Actions)

Holding his hands up Gibson watched the scientist launch her attack on the unresisting Terry.

"Can somebody please restrain this madwoman? Obviously she has some kind of mental illness and I do not appreciate the fact that she is both physically assaulting my staff member and verbally disparaging his reputation! Also I must inform all of you that this facility is under constant video surveillance and I shall be using all recorded video in the prosecution of each of you. I don't know who you people think you are but this is a private facility and you have not only caused the deaths of several resident scientists but also destroyed company property in excess of $20 million credits. I hope you all have very good lawyers!" stated Gibson firmly.

"Ne zdes', ne seychas!" Oksana pulled her colleague off Terry. "Katie. Not here. Not now."

Oksana wrapped her arms around the distraught woman and pulled her back with Navarro's help.

"Katie," she said, forcing the woman to look at her. Oksana put as much sympathy in her tone as she could but there was no mistaking the iron will beneath: she would be heard and obeyed. "Revenge later. Survival now. We can't do it without you. Understand? We need you, Katie. I need you. Can you be here for me? Can you do that?"

Morse inhaled after gunning down one final Xenomorph. He forced a calm in himself, but the sweat breaching his helmet was evidence of his elevated heart rate. He breathed out a hard jet of air from his nose. He had blood on his hands from the dead man at his feet, an unneeded loss in the midst of a very confusing afternoon. The battle seemed to be quieting down, but that would simply mean that it would be for Morse and the others to get their bearings and deal with all of the latest developments that had come within the facility.

A release program activated in the facility and the outer door opened. Corporate technology always seemed to have the slight edge... fortunately their training and experience never did. The light came in and the Marines could see a pair of captives held by the personnel that were guarding the perimeter. Morse felt proud of himself for making the right call in leaving those outside that he did in that they got someone who could get answers.

Morse was not quite at his calmest of states, and he certainly was not happy to see one of their civilian additions charge one of the captives like an animal. Fortunately another of civilians seemed to wrestle her off, which saved the marines the trouble.

But when the pompous company man began expounding on how they were in the wrong... something snapped in Morse's head.

The circumstances of their crash landing were still suspect. The circumstances of the facility were very much in question. And the deaths of their people were not entirely questionable.

The existence of Xenomorphs in the facility however was a touchy subject for Morse. Morse who had in his earlier years been such a strong supporter of Corporate interests in the galaxy, who had seen first hand all that had done.

"Not sure who we are?" Morse asked rhetorically, approaching the man. "We're the Colonial Marine Corps."

Morse would then back hand the man with the hard plastic hand guard that rested over his right knuckles on his glove as hard as he could, a strike that made his frustration evident to all.

"Who the fuck'r you?"

<Tag Gibson
< Tag Anyone

Paulson couldn't believe Morse stayed so calm the corporate asshole was being just that, then at the final insult of "who are you" it appeared Morse reached his limit, which was more than reasonable in the circumstances, the strike drove the man to his knees, tears welled up in his eyes and he whimpered, as far as Paulson was concerned proper rank and order had been restored, now maybe they could start getting some answers.
the other civilians had stopped their petty mucking around so Paulson took this opportunity to see to the dead navy man, as mercenary as it seemed did he have anything useful on him, keeping eyes and ears on motion detector at the same time Paulson searched the body and then closed his eyes saying a silent prayer over the fallen.

Paulsons' search found very little, a letter home, which he took and vowed to send, a curved dagger and the mans standard issue navy semi auto rifle with ammunition. he looked around to see if any of their small outfit could benefit from these meager finds as he was nearly fully loaded with the flamer and spare ammo he carried already.

This entire mission was one for the record books.

First, it started with the ship getting blown out of the sky. Then landfall, with minimal gear, survival on a planet rife with megafauna. A chance of getting some that ended in failure. And now a corporate facility, experimenting on Xenomorphs. Then in a fit of heroism (or more likely stupidity), charging aforementioned xenomorph in an attempt to save the scientist the alien had pounced on. The resulting acid bath destroyed the majority of his gear, with only the sniper rifle and medical kit having been saved by sheer virtue of having been behind him when the creature died under a hail of explosive gunfire. But with the quick actions of Sokolova and Quinn’s experience, they managed to keep the damage to a superficial minimum. But this still left Sixtus down to his undershirt, socks and boxers. Not even his boots were spared

You should have stayed home and became a doctor. the unbidden words of his mother coming to his mind, with his father firmly shaking his head. He moved to the scientist in question, who wasn’t that far away and was bleeding profusely from the head. Head wounds always bled like a son of a bitch. He knelt beside the man and pulled his K52 meditation towards him, which had largely survived save for the strap having burnt apart. He started addressing Sokolova as he tended to the man’s head wound.

”That... was a xenomorph.” Quinn’s voice was ragged, out of breath. He didn’t realize that he had screamed from the pain. ”Alien life form with a nasty biology and even nastier life cycle. And since you saw one, I’m going to read you in on it before command can pull the Classified bullshit.”

Quinn scanned the man’s head, pleased to see that there were no severe cracks in the skull, only strain and nasty lacerations. There would be some scarring. The human skull was incredibly hard, and highly resistant to blunt force trauma as well as steady pressure. The medic dug back into his kit. ”What you saw were warriors, or more accurately, drones. Skin as hard as steel, nasty teeth complete with a smaller secondary mouth inside. Think a tongue with it’s own mouth and teeth. Capable of punching right through a combat helmet. What passes for blood is an acid capable of melting through a starship hull in minutes, multiple deck plates in seconds.” Sixtus nodded to where the xeno had been, as it was melting into the earth. He pulled out a disinfectant spray and morphine ampoules, almost idly spraying the scientist’s head to more screaming before administering the morphine in an arm.

”Life cycle starts as an egg laid by a queen. Egg is twice as big as a football, leathery skin for a shell. Inside is the first stage of the xeno, what we call a facehugger. The egg only hatches when it senses a viable life form in the vicinity. The face hugger, a small and fast little bastard that looks like a spider with a tail, tan in color, then ambushes the poor life form by attaching itself to the face so it can implant an embryo in the host. The facehugger eventually falls off dead, having completed what it was meant to do. Then the next stage begins.” Sixtus was nonchalantly lecturing on a familiar subject, almost sounding like a professor giving a lesson to an aspiring student. His hands reached into the kit again to emerge with field dressings, and started to apply them. A rattle of gunfire nearby, followed by the computer announcement happened at that precise moment. ”The larva, nicknamed a chestburster, lies dormant inside it’s host until it’s ready to emerge. Reports suggest that it takes on characteristics of the host that it was implanted in. It then eats it’s way out, hence the name. Looks like a worm as big as your forearm, with a similar face to the adult drone. It then runs and hides, so it can grow into an adult drone or more rarely, a queen. And the queens are four times as large as the drone as the reports say.”

The morphine was kicking in and the patient was stable, so Sixtus took an extra step and administered an antibiotic to prevent any infections from leaping out of nowhere. The man was stable, but head trauma had a nasty habit of going south with no warning. (Medical Roll, GM result Moderate Success, alive but in bad shape)

At that point, there was a commotion from the others with a scientist trying to kill a man that was in some nice clothes. Quinn pegged him as the facility administrator. He stood up and grabbed the sniper rifle from the floor. He arrived at the tail end of the corporate’s speech, only to see him be backhanded by Morse. Outwardly, Sixtus’s face didn’t show any emotion. Inwardly, he felt a moment of satisfaction at the slap. But the man had to be reminded of the situation he was now in.

”I don’t think that you’re in a position to make threats right now.” Quinn’s voice was calm, carefully metered and confident. ”I think that you were just caught running a facility experimenting with illegal bio weapons in violation of US law, and were discovered by a US Marine force.”

Sixtus moved forward, his light blue eyes like chips of ice boring into the corporate lifer. ”I think at this point your corporation will leave you as a fall guy, pinning the whole thing on you and wash their hands of the situation. Oh sure, behind closed doors they’ll curse us out at the money we just cost them. But you’ll be in prison, if you’re lucky. More likely you’ll be assassinated so you can’t testify to who was actually behind the project. I hope those lawyers you know are private, because your corporation won’t lift a finger to help you. But the kind of lawyer who is willing to take on your bosses won’t be cheap, because nobody else will want to even bother.”

For a moment, just a moment, everybody could see a spark of the officer the man used to be.

After having found some cloth to cover both her and Quinn's burns as well as assisting him with the man’s injuries, alongside listening to what Quinn had to say about the Xenomorphs, she murmured after his speech, “So you say these things are some kind of hunters then? That is… how you say… ‘FUBAR’!”
《Tag Quinn》
Having heard a lot of the other commotion and the doors opening up once they were finished working on the wounds, she pulls her rifle over her shoulder once more and heads back toward the group. She notes a few of the words from the argument. Hearing the outrageous comment from Gibson had her shaking her head in disbelief. Then watching Morse step in, she felt only a little relief, before adding in her Ukrainian accent, "Also do you think he or someone at the facility is responsible for hitting the ship? Our ship was worth more than his petty 20 million credit claims. Let alone what I just heard him carrying in this facility."
《Tag anyone》