Twelve seconds. That's how long the gas-powered biplane made by the Wright brothers defied gravity before touching back down to Mother Earth. By today's technological marvels, the achievement feels rather lame, almost childish in civilization's grand tapestry. Yet, all the same, that tiny spark somehow ignited humanity's passion for ascending amongst the stars.
The Late 1930s brought out the world's first jet aircraft. De Havilland DH 106 Comet claimed the sky as the first commercial jetliner in the 1950s. Soviet Russia escaped the clutches of gravity with Yuri Gagarin, passing away as the first man in space. Eight years later, America soared even higher, planting its flag on the moon and engraving Neil Armstrong's name in history.
All these factors bring us to the early 22nd century when the same galaxy seems to be within its grasp. However, we've made a crucial error throughout this long journey. In our pursuit to see if we could reach the stars, we never questioned if we should. Mankind ventured across the stars, thinking we were Deadlus, but maybe we were Icarus the entire time, and we just hadn't gotten burned till now.
The crew of the United States Cargo Star Ship Nostromos are starting to understand this lesson all too well. But, unfortunately, it gets offered as nothing more than fresh bait towards a creature beyond understanding, a singular entity of a hellspawn race that has made the entire universe shiver at their name: The Xenomorph.
Over a day, the beast's fledgling outing ripped through the crew tearing through the crew like a hawk would a mouse. So far, he's picked off half the crew, feasting and killing them quickly. Is it the latest victim? Joan Lambert as the alien gnawed on what little of her leg remained. Once satisfied, its fiendish mind remembered the last living obstacle, Ellen Ripley's approach.
Keeping to the shadows, he decided to retreat, intent on striking from the shadows. Fate, however, had different plans. Making an appearance amongst the rumbling ship, a blue crackle of electricity zoomed past. Hundreds of those same streaks appeared immediately after, condensing like a blue sun around the tight corridor.
Anything in the way instantly got melted like a thousand-degree knife through the wood. The light was utterly blinding, forcing even the rogue Xenomorph to stare in awe. A fate Ellen Ripley shared as she walked into the scene, too just as flabbergasted as her enemy. When the energy storm left, a lone figure descended with a mighty boom, rattling the damaged cargo ship to its hinges as if afraid of its power.
Then again, any smart man should be. In an age long past, these machines were once humanity's greatest dangers, nearly wiping out the human race and cloaking Earth into an everlasting nuclear winter. The inspiration for To the cold unflinching A.I. Skynet got designated as Hunter Killer, Cyber Research the space-faring colonization of today. Systems Series 850 Battle Robot. The people, though, had a simpler definition: The Terminator.
Once the thick smoke appeared, the Nostromo's lone passengers looked in awe of a naked six foot two, four hundred pound, bodybuilder physique hidden underneath a metal endoskeleton. Piercing blue eyes scanned its nearby environment with an internal scarlet HUD, facing down the extraterrestrial while remembering its mission directive and clutching the large metal briefcase it came attached to.
Despite the Nostromos's crew unknowingly serving as indirect lambs to the slaughter, the Weyland Corporation and the United States Colonial Marine Corp didn't understand Ripley's value. They didn't know how she would later go on to battle foes from facehugger to Xenomorph Queen and live to tell the tale.
Or how genetic research would pave the way for her clone/descendant Ripley 8 to save several survivors in the USM Auriga hundreds of years in the future. No, by the time they did, humanity on a galactic scale was already being wiped out by their threat. Using the remains of Weyland-Yutai, they sought to rectify their mistake. Scouring their minimal resources, they sent back a protector through the timestream, one who hopefully brings the timeline back in order.
Remembering its core programming, the Terminator immediately activated its action network circuits. Synthetic skin flexed with sheer might only titanium could provide as it looked back towards the still-stunned Ripley, processing its first words carefully.
"I'm here to protect you. Activate the self-destruct and retreat into the escape pod. Do not stop for anything. I will terminate the threat," he said with coldness.
After hours of dealing with monstrous androids and too many unspoken goodbyes, she was too emotionally shaken to refuse this easy out. Without a single word, Ripley mouthed a soft thank you for rapidly fleeing. Then, realizing its prey was escaping, the Xenomorph stopped its methodical staring, instead flexing its unearthly might and rising towards a bipedal stance.
Horridly, it extended its slimy, slithering the second mouth before slinging it out with the speed of a bullwhip. Still trying to get a read on its opponent, the T-850 could extend its left forearm, letting the second mouth take skin shredding bite. Like how a puppy often teethed through a toy, the long tongue usually tore through fake blood and tissue to the point where it got stuck.
Taking full advantage, the Terminator gripped the appendage tightly before reeling in the creature for a solid straight jab towards its sternum. Unfortunately, the beast's mesoskeleton concaved from the blow, causing the beast to howl in pain at its prey's unexpected strength. The onslaught didn't stop there, though, as the Terminator bludgeoned the Alien's body across the small corridor.
For the first time in its short life, the Xenomorph understood what it was like to be inferior, if only briefly, as it continued getting slammed. T-850 tried its best to keep the creature off balance, but by using its lengthy tall, and growing aggression, the beast swiped its legs so hard he fell. Then, not willing to give up the battle's flow, the Terminator sprung up using both hands to kick the Xenomorph's jaw.
A menacing crack bellowed across the entire spacecraft as bubbling lime green flew from the extraterrestrial's maw. Blinding pain followed vicious payback as the Xenomorph met with equal power, charging the android with enough strength to shove it back toward his long metallic box.
With its internal CPU firing at all cylinders, the robot adapted, opening the thick case while pulling out an AMT Hardballer .45 Longslider, firing wildly in the air. Blast to the past now had a new meaning as red dots and muzzle flashes illuminated the dark hallways. Unfortunately, the slugs only pierced oxygen instead of flesh as the Xenomorph's survival instincts fully kicked in.
Even on T-850's sensors, his target was a black streak, hustling down on all fours to avoid each blast. Instead, the bullets cut into the inner piping and wiring of the ship to create an elusive smokescreen. The creature had already vanished when the Terminator tried pressing its advances. Thus in seconds, the violent slugfest had now transformed into the most dangerous cat-and-mouse game in the galaxy.
He shifted towards its heightened senses by shifting gears (both literally and figuratively). Unfortunately, an infrared vision came up with zilch of the Internecivus raptus natural biology countering it well, and X-ray didn't fare much better with the ship's sheer mass. The hearing came next but between the hundreds of automatic subroutines, picking up the creature was about as good as finding a needle in a haystack.
Losing the alien wasn't the worst aspect, though, as the Terminator immediately realized he didn't come out of the encounter unscathed. Small burn wounds remained present across its entire body, the Xenomorph's signature acidic blood leaving its mark. Still, all these factors didn't dare stop the technological abomination.
Instead, the T-850 opened up its still-smoking case, revealing its iconic outfit and a slew of weapons. As he put them all on, Ripley finally activated the Nostromo's self-destruct and made a b-line towards the Narcissus, placing a looming ten-minute timer over the ship. Now armed to the teeth, the Terminator ventured ever forward, hoping to smoke out a rat.
On that matter, artificial intelligence and animalistic intuition agree. As the alien started to creep through the large air ducts of the ship, its mind wandered, observing the synthetic soldier from afar. Evolved smell, hearing, and Thermo-reactive organs realized that fear didn't seem to limit him, unlike its other victims. And if that's the case, maybe trickery will work then.
Perhaps out of accidental fate or cruel irony, the Terminator made its way toward the site of the Alien's birth: the ship's dinner table. Rocking an M-27 Phased Plasma rifle, every step from the robotic assassin made its urgent march even more pressing. The drastic self-destruct timer and the creature's escape gave it a hell of a split decision.
Every second of fruitless searching put Ripley in mortal danger but being by her side could lead the creature straight toward him. A damning problem, indeed. Regardless, the Xenomorph didn't go for either option, instead prompting a third strategy: attack.
Opting to use more of its corrosive ichor, the predator coated the above passageway, leaving behind a sizzling trail.
Eventually, the acid did its work, eating its way through the entire ceiling till it ultimately gave way. Debris, circuitry, and jagged shrapnel rained down like hellfire above, but Terminator kept his ground, keeping his scanners red hot, waiting to see when and where his opponent would poke through the screen. Finally, the answer was now as a massive blur immediately made its way toward him.
Reactively the T-850 fired away, burning his entire line of sight in a shower of energetic sparks. Unfortunately, the shot was wasted, as the blackened body parts which splattered the walls were human, specifically John's dead body. Leaving the alien all the time it needed to rip the poor android utterly defenseless.
Terminator tried leveling another blast, but it was too late as the behemoth throttled him toward the table so hard it cracked. Then, using his rifle as a blunt weapon, he tried to bash the animal's brains in, but it was too close and fast, unable to get a clean shot while his metallic skull got torn apart.
Still reeling from its broken tooth, ironically made its bite even more dangerous as it tore through half of its face. Growing desperation forced 850 to switch weapons opting for the handgun again and blasting at point-blank range. Pressurized acid rained straight towards the Terminator's metallic chassis through every shot, causing the beast to violently hallow.
Unfortunately seemed angry more so than hurt, forcing the android to get more "creative." Taking advantage of the new holes inside the table, he finally had enough leverage to slip out of the alien's grasp, kicking the beast off him. An action that took the robot's entire right arm with him. The grievous injury didn't dare stop its advance, instead giving the alien to gnaw on before he gave him the main course: a Franchi SPAS-12 Shotgun.
His dark foe had other pans, swiping away the first shot to hit its left shoulder rather than a critical organ. Another splatter of liquid decay hit the floor beneath them and the entirety of the Terminator's upper body, seeping deep into its more delicate circuits. This, combined with the shotgun's recoil, opened up the tin can for one last desperate strike from the alien.
Calling upon its second mouth again, it poured whatever power it had left and pierced straight through the T-850's CPU. In an all too human fashion, the android attempted to shrug off the attack like every other before. But it seemed this time the blow did him in. Panicky, the machine spasmed, dropping its rifle to the floor, its various systems declining by the second.
Yet, the robot didn't despair or even process its failure. Because even in this state, it had at least one last trump card, the hydrogen fuel cells that kept it powered. If left undisrupted, the energy would have him running at peak performance for centuries. However, if they were punctured or damaged too much, they became a mini hydrogen explosion.
Combine that with the self-destruct timer finally wasting down towards its final moments, and the chances of both combatants leaving here operational are unlikely. The Xenomorph had undoubtedly won this battle, no doubt about that, but the war was won. So before the two beings met their end, humanity's past destroyer gave some last words to its current destroyer.
"You've… been … terminated," he said before they both got consumed by the all-encompassing fire.