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“This is just like in Alien.”
Bishop suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.
Every off-planet mission with Michelangelo was like this. He had apparently managed to consume so many scary movies throughout his life that any and all situations involving aliens reminded him of at least one of them. It would only be mildly annoying, if not for the fact that Michelangelo’s knowledge of fictional monsters often provided Bishop with relevant information, which made it utterly irritating.
“You’re misremembering,” he corrected, keeping an eye on the only open hallway into the cockpit. “Also, unlike in Alien, I don’t plan to die for your cat, so please keep that in mind.”
“That’s fine, Klunk the Fourth wouldn’t lift a paw for you either– WAIT.” To his credit, the turtle too kept watching the entrance, even as his eyes widened in realization. “You’ve watched Alien?”
It was then that Bishop knew he’d made a mistake.
Mikey grinned. “I thought you didn’t have time for ‘frivolities’ like monster movies,” he teased.
“I don’t.”
“But you know of the Alien. Enough to know the ending. What’s that about?”
Just then, thankfully – and Bishop could hardly believe he was grateful for it – the massive, slimy form of the creature they’d been hunting reared its head at the far end of the hallway they’d been guarding. Once it spotted the two, it made a long, loud hissing noise, like a pressurized oxygen tank, and moved towards them. But they were ready.
As soon as it slithered through the doorway, the mutant smashed the button to shut the door behind it. “Nowhere for you to run now, goop boy!” he announced, pulling out the hammer they’d found in the engine room at the same time as Bishop readied the broken pipe with a pointed end he’d salvaged from the wrecked ventilation systems. The fight so far had been long and messy, but they would end it here and now.
“What the shell was I misremembering, anyway?!” Michelangelo called, throwing a punch in the monster’s face to shove it into a corner. “I’ve watched all the movies in that franchise a buncha times!!”
Bishop stomped on the creature’s long, scorpion-like tail to keep it in place, stabbing at where its organs could vaguely be seen under translucent skin. “The Nostromo was much bigger than our ship, for one.” Black, sluggish liquid poured out of the wound as he pulled the pipe back out, and he recoiled before it could touch his skin. “Plus, the Xenomorphs lay eggs. The Ra’Kanabo reproduce through fission, splitting from one to two.” He dodged the spasming tail, catching a glimpse of the turtle’s smug grin as Michelangelo landed a hit straight in the center of the Ra’Kanabo’s face. “Which is why it’s important to kill it here, before it can multiply again and kill more people, so I suggest you focus!”
“I am focusing!!” Mikey retorted, immediately following up with, “focusing on Agent ‘I don’t care about pop-culture because it’s irrelevant to my work’ Bishop knowing a monster movie!” As if to emphasize his excitement, he swung the hammer downwards, burrowing it in the monster’s head, and the creature finally stopped moving, dropping to the floor with another loud hiss. For a moment, the room went silent as the two let out a breath of relief. They still had a lot of work to do. Most, if not all of the other crew members were dead, and the Ra’Kanabo had damaged the ventilation system of the ship. They will have to look for survivors and see what they can repair on their own while they wait for the rescue unit to reach them. But at least for now they were safe.
“Sssso,” Michelangelo broke the silence first. “Was it for research? Did you watch the most famous movie franchise about aliens for research on real aliens?”
“We are not on speaking terms for the rest of this mission.”
“Aw, Bish, don’t be like that, did you have a favorite??”
“Not on speaking terms, Michelangelo!”