Origae: Casualty of Alien

A Story by Abishai100

The crew of the Dartmouth embark on a space-contact adventure trip and offer Earthling expression of wrought supper for darkness.

Alien adaptation/fanfiction. Enjoy (Happy Tuesday),

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Three heroes went up to a distant planet using the new Weyland space-corp. developed light-speed craft, and only two returned, and this is the story of that fated crew, making contact with a faraway dragon race of devil-like insect-leviathans, of slightly larger than man-size, which Weyland named the Xenomorph, for its eerie adaptation ability to react to any non-Xeno species with furious agenda (wow). The human explored who didn't return to tell the tale was Mr. Amlan Satan, Algerian-American Bostonian-Catholic and avid-fan of science-fiction novels who got a firsthand view of the Xeno-dragon's lethal acid spray which decapitated the poor valiant Earthling, robbing social media of the photo-traffic images of American citizens enjoying the amenity of capitalism-lifestyle in places like Royal Farms (wow).

AMLAN: Happy Halloween, sweet Caroline (wife).

CAROLINE: Wow, from that Halloween-Xmas blend movie (Tim Burton?).

AMLAN: There's a great play for festivity-image pre-flight to this planet (Origae).

CAROLINE: Oh, hush...you'll return for the next Halloween, and I'll be in costume for ya.

AMLAN: Sure...Facebook-like.

The Weyland light-speed craft, the Dartmouth, was top-notch, and Amlan and his co-soldiers, Ezzy and Marcus, knew their examination of Origae would perhaps include contact with some intelligence (perhaps organic obviously). On the way there, Amlan joked, "What if the aliens are dragons from Satan's lair with a horrid ability to be lethal biochemically (ha)?" Ezzy didn't find the joke great and stayed up late drinking space-coffee to dismiss the hideous remark (for the Ego0.

WEYLAND: Quit the worry, Amlan Satan; you're bound for heroics for the Company, with our gun(s).

AMLAN: I know them, trained with them, and I trust Ezzy/Marcus; this is laser-blueprints, ok.

WEYLAND: The key is to bring back any 'game-experience' with contacted aliens (contests, etc.).

AMLAN: What, like they want to play hide-and-seek for the Ego?

WEYLAND: Whatever happens, you've got arms of capitalism, good-fellow.

AMLAN: Selfie-like (sure).

Ezzy thought Amlan Satan was an eccentric and didn't feel comfy they had an eccentric on the Dartmouth. However, she knew he was respected as a sniper of great marksmanship. Marcus was cool and even-handed and assured the trio of Dartmouth-flight that their exploration would offer excellence in Super Bowl TV-ads culture for younglings (Facebook-like!).

Origae wasn't anything like what they expected and there were strange rock formations that resembled somehow the odd shape of the alien-dragon the trio encountered, the lethal acid-spewing Xenomorph 'specter' of Hell (damn). The Dartmouth heroes encountered about 5 total Xeno-aliens on Origae, and one of them bloody murdered Amlan Satan, the only casualty, labeled half-expendable for lofty Weyland Earthling ambitions of undoubted vanity for the sci-fi arts (wow).

EZZY: Shoot the damn leviathan in the tail and the arms, disorient the specter.

AMLAN: Thing's a lizard or creepy snake-behemoth; the Devil's conception, pals!

MARCUS: Just pray for a return to some Earth-land diner (now).

EZZY: Alright...Weyland must've anticipated something of this hideous scale.

AMLAN: Right (Facebook-like!).

Marcus had skills with arts and rendered a large drawing/characterization of the 'Xenomorph' creature now being studied by Weyland's mad scientists. One of the scientists had remarked that this sort of field goal for darkness and contact of races yielded a bad-helmet for the ill fate of encounters with non-humans with no diplomacy arm or pizza (for the Ego).