PREDATOR IF IT BLEEDS
Page 1
CONTENTS
Cover
READ ALL OF THE EXCITING PREDATOR™ AND ALIEN™ NOVELS FROM TITAN BOOKS
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
INTRODUCTION by Bryan Thomas Schmidt
DEVIL DOGS by Tim Lebbon
STONEWALL’S LAST STAND by Jeremy Robinson
REMATCH by Steve Perry
MAY BLOOD PAVE MY WAY HOME by Weston Ochse
STORM BLOOD by Peter J. Wacks and David Boop
LAST REPORT FROM THE KSS PSYCHOPOMP by Jennifer Brozek
SKELD’S KEEP by S. D. Perry
INDIGENOUS SPECIES by Kevin J. Anderson
BLOOD AND SAND by Mira Grant
TIN WARRIOR by John Shirley
THREE SPARKS by Larry Correia
THE PILOT by Andrew Mayne
BUFFALO JUMP by Wendy N. Wagner
DRUG WAR by Bryan Thomas Schmidt and Holly Roberds
RECON by Dayton Ward
GAMEWORLD by Jonathan Maberry
AUTHOR BIOGRAPHIES
READ ALL OF THE EXCITING PREDATOR™ AND ALIEN™ NOVELS FROM TITAN BOOKS
THE RAGE WAR
by Tim Lebbon
PREDATOR: INCURSION
ALIEN: INVASION
ALIEN VS. PREDATOR™: ARMAGEDDON
THE COMPLETE ALIENS VS. PREDATOR OMNIBUS
by Steve Perry, S.D. Perry, and David Bischoff
ALIEN: OUT OF THE SHADOWS by Tim Lebbon
ALIEN: SEA OF SORROWS by James A. Moore
ALIEN: RIVER OF PAIN by Christopher Golden
THE OFFICIAL MOVIE NOVELIZATIONS
by Alan Dean Foster
ALIEN
ALIENS
ALIEN 3™
ALIEN: COVENANT™
ALIEN: COVENANT – ORIGINS
ALIEN RESURRECTION by A.C. Crispin
ALIENS: BUG HUNT edited by Jonathan Maberry
THE COMPLETE ALIENS OMNIBUS
VOLUME 1 by Steve and S.D. Perry
VOLUME 2 by David Bischoff and Robert Sheckley
VOLUME 3 by Sandy Schofield and S.D. Perry
VOLUME 4 by Yvonne Navarro and S.D. Perry
ALL-NEW TALES FROM THE EXPANDED PREDATOR UNIVERSE
IF IT BLEEDS
EDITED BY BRYAN THOMAS SCHMIDT
TITAN BOOKS
PREDATOR™: IF IT BLEEDS
Print edition ISBN: 9781785655401
E-book edition ISBN: 9781785655418
Published by Titan Books
A division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd
144 Southwark Street, London SE1 0UP
First edition: October 2017
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
™ & © 2017 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. All rights reserved.
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For Kevin Peter Hall, the original Predator…
and
Jonathan Maberry, for friendship
INTRODUCTION
BY BRYAN THOMAS SCHMIDT
In June 1987, Twentieth Century Fox launched a new science fiction thriller franchise about alien hunters coming to Earth to hunt humans—Predator was born. A vehicle for rising star Arnold Schwarzenegger, who had already starred in such iconic roles as Conan and the Terminator, the film netted six times its budget and a franchise was born. Soon a sequel was in the works as well as a comic book line from Dark Horse Comics. Eventually there would be novels, crossovers with Fox’s popular Alien franchise and more films to come, all aimed at satisfying the growing enthusiastic fanbase.
The stories in this volume are intended to celebrate the franchise’s 30th anniversary as fans anticipate future developments featuring the Predators. We have worked from prior materials, including the previous three Predator films, the Dark Horse Comics, and various novels, and sequels or prequels to those are among the stories included here. Previous contributors to the universe, such as Tim Lebbon, Kevin J. Anderson, Steve Perry, S. D. Perry, and John Shirley, have all returned with new stories for us, plus we have new stories and new authors, as well—including some great adventures that document the intergalactic hunters’ activities throughout human history, beyond even the future or our own contemporary age.
There are sixteen action-packed new adventures here stretching from future societies to the Vikings, ancient samurais, and even the American Civil War. And historical figures as well as familiar characters make appearances in many of them. The goal here was fun adventures that give fans what we have come to expect and love about Predator stories: lots of action, interesting twists and tactics, and human ingenuity vs. alien intellect and superior technology.
As a Predator fan myself, it was a blast putting this together. And so I hope my fellow fans will have an equal blast reading it. For me, one reason I love Predator is the sophisticated culture, language, strategies, and ethics the hunters choose to live by which make them far more interesting and even challenging than many alien opponents we often see. And the novels, comics, and films have all helped to expand that mythos in interesting ways. These stories do as well.
Whatever the case, this book celebrates both the past and the future of this exciting fictional universe. We hope it evokes old memories and makes new ones as we look forward to exciting new chapters in our favorite saga. If we write it, they will come.
If it bleeds, we can kill it.
Bryan Thomas Schmidt, Ottawa, KS, January 2017
“IF IT BLEEDS, WE CAN KILL IT”
—Dutch Schaefer, Predator (1987)
DEVIL DOGS
BY TIM LEBBON
Halley knows that this is a dream, but still the pain bites in, stabbing into her back as the dropship spins and rolls, out of control and plummeting toward the planet below. In reality the ship was pulled from its dive and they landed safely. But in this dream she is the only passenger, and she is loose in the dropship’s belly. With each twist she’s thrown against the bulkheads, with every turn she bounces from floor and ceiling, limbs snapping and ribcage cracking with the impacts, skull crumpling. It’s her back that gives her the most pain. And it’s the face of her mother she sees in her final moment, both sad and angry at the decision her daughter has made.
“If you go into space, you’ll die there.”
* * *
Halley snapped awake. She was sweating and panting in her narrow cot, bedding twisted around her limbs. She reached for the bottle beside her bed and popped two more phrail pills. She’d already taken six before going to bed. It was ironic that being addicted to painkillers brought her more pain than anything in life before.
She sat up and held her head, trying to blink away that final image of her sad mother. Her words had followed Halley into space, through the Colonial Mar
ine academy, and into the dropship accident when she’d smashed the disc in her back. Being prescribed phrail had eased the back pain but introduced her to agonies of another kind. And her mother’s sadness haunted her still.
The comm unit beside her bed buzzed. She jumped. It was silent in here, alone with the dregs of her nightmares. Sometimes she wished that holding a high rank didn’t mean isolation from the rest of her troops.
“Captain Halley, you’re wanted in Command.”
“Who wants me?” she asked.
A slight, telling pause.
“The Major and someone else.”
Halley pushed two hands through her knotted hair. “On my way.” The comm hissed off and she stood, staring into the mirror over her small sink. She looked like shit. Three minutes to sort that out.
* * *
They gave Halley a Sleek-class destroyer for the mission, the Doyle. She knew the pilot, Corporal Jane Hanning, but the four marines were unknown to her. She’d requested that she choose her own troops, but the Major had told her that time was short, and that the team was being assembled even as she was being briefed. Her one comfort was that they were all from 39th Spaceborne, more widely known as the DevilDogs. She knew that anyone from her regiment would be a good marine.
The briefing was truly brief. She knew hardly anything, other than it being a rescue mission of some kind. The mission wasn’t logged, and there was no flight or call number. Hanning would be sent coordinates once they were a thousand kilometers out from Charon Station, and everything else would be relayed en route.
The civilian passenger meant it was far from normal.
“So what’s your story?” she asked the man beside her. They were each strapped into control seats on the flight deck. The Doyle had room in her hold for up to fifty troops, but with only seven of them on board, Halley had insisted they all sit up front. The big sergeant, Tew, acted as co-pilot to Hanning, seated to her left. At the comms station sat Rogers, the small French woman with the burn across her cheek. Next to her was Shearman, one of the tallest men Halley had ever seen, brash and confident but with too many battle scars to count. Behind them, seated close to the flight deck’s rear bulkhead, Rosartz hummed a tune that bugged Halley because she was sure she knew it. Perhaps she’d get to ask her.
“I already told you my name,” the man said.
“Kalien.”
“Del to my friends.”
“So what’s your story, Kalien?”
“My story’s nothing to do with your mission,” he said. He tried to appear charming and calm, and give her the impression that this was actually her mission, not his. But she could see through him. He was ex-military. There were no outward signs, but she recognized his bearing, his confidence, and the glint in his eyes. He’d seen things. Maybe he’d gone indie, but it wasn’t like the Major to deal with mercenaries, no matter how highly sanctioned. Could be that he was a Company man now, ArmoTech perhaps. But she thought not. She’d met Company men and women before, and they oozed a particular smarm, and a derision for those in uniform, that was not easy to hide.
“So you’re Section Seven.” Akoko Halley hid a smile. Kalien’s brief flash of anger was almost comical. “Hey, don’t mind me,” she said. “I’m just curious.”
“Far as the rest of your unit knows, I’m a science observer,” he said.
“You think all grunts are stupid?” she asked.
“Let’s just wait until your orders come in, shall we?” Kalien unstrapped and pulled himself out of the seat, drifting across the flight deck to surprised glances from the Colonial Marines. They were still only minutes away from Charon Station, and grav wouldn’t be turned on until they’d set coordinates and accelerated to cruising velocity.
Halley didn’t worry about the man’s safety. He knew what he was doing.
“Three minutes until thousand kilometer marker,” Hanning said, glancing back at Kalien, then at Halley.
Halley nodded. “Hit it.”
With the gentlest of vibrations the Doyle pulled away from Charon Station, the main Colonial Marine base in orbit around the Solar System.
“Oooh, that tingles,” Shearman said, squirming in his seat.
“You’re disgusting,” Rogers said.
“Not what you said last night, mon ami.”
Rogers gave him the finger over her shoulder. “For the record, Captain, Private Shearman has shared his privates with no one on this ship.”
“Only in my dreams,” Shearman said.
“Dream on,” Hanning said from the pilot’s seat.
Shearman threw Halley a feigned look of distress. “Captain, I’m being picked on.”
“You look like you can take care of yourself,” Halley said.
“I’ve had to save his ass more than once,” Sergeant Tew said. “He might be big, but don’t let that fool you, Captain. He faints at the sight of blood.”
“Only my own,” Shearman said.
Halley smiled. She enjoyed the banter, and as these troops were mostly strangers to her, it would be the best way to get to know them. The ship wasn’t prepped for a long journey, so their destination must be only a couple of days away. Whatever waited there for them, she wanted to ensure that she and her squad were as tight as possible when they arrived.
She wished the Major had let her bring her own choice of marines. She guessed Kalien had something to do with that.
If he was really Section Seven, this was a Company mission. Section Seven were a group of ex-marines serving the Company’s Thirteen, their main corporate board. Feared and disliked in equal measures, she’d never had any involvement with them. She wished that were still the case.
“Incoming transmission,” Rogers said. Kalien pulled himself across to her station and took control of the comms unit. He paired his comm-implant and listened, head tilted. Appearing happy with the message, he flipped on the flight deck speakers.
Halley knew the voice she heard. Gerard Marshall, one of the Thirteen. She’d seen him in broadcasts and holos, but had never spoken to him before. He was very businesslike.
“Contact has been lost with the ArmoTech research station Trechman Two, ten billion kilometers beyond Pluto orbit. You’re to proceed to the station, board, and investigate the cause of comm silence. My personal representative Del Kalien is your point of command, and Captain Halley is next in the chain. This is a military undertaking, but covered by Company jurisdiction. Del Kalien has final say on all decisions. Is that understood?”
“Crystal clear, sir,” Halley said.
“Good. Any questions?”
“What’s the Trechman Two’s security designation?” Halley asked.
After a small pause, Marshall said, “Highest.”
“And its purpose?”
“I told you, Captain, research and development.”
“Military.”
“ArmoTech, yes.”
“So what are we likely to be facing?”
“Del Kalien has all the information you might need,” Marshall said.
“And how many crew members are on board?” she asked.
“Crew members?” Marshall sounded almost surprised that she’d express a concern about the people they were going to rescue. Which made her suspect this wasn’t a rescue mission at all.
“Thirty-two,” Del Kalien said.
“Good luck,” Marshall said.
“Thank you, sir.”
The connection broke with a hiss, and Kalien pushed across to Hanning.
“Coordinates,” he said, pressing his palmtop to the pilot’s holo frame.
“How long?” Halley asked.
Hanning consulted the holo as a flight plan resolved. “If I pump us up to point-one, sixteen hours.”
“Okay, let’s roll,” she said. “Once we’re at point-one, grav on, then everyone to dining. We’ll eat and get to know each other.”
She unstrapped and pushed off, approaching Kalien.
“I need to know what we might be facing out there,�
�� she said.
“We’ll know when we get there.”
“And that’s it?”
He shrugged.
“You fucking Company guys,” she muttered so that no one else could hear.
He smiled. “What’s for breakfast?”
* * *
As they approached the space station Trechman Two, Rogers hailed on open channels. There was no response. Two kilometers out Hanning put them into a slow orbit that matched the station’s spin, and they gathered on the flight deck.
“Scans show hull integrity is intact,” Rosartz said. “Life support is functioning, power’s on.”
“Any lifeboats been launched?” Halley asked.
“No,” Shearman said. He was standing beside Rogers at the comm station. His quips and jokes had stopped now that they were geared up and ready to go. Halley liked that. She’d only been with this squad for half a solar day, but she could already tell that they would make a tight unit. Some had fought together before, and although no one had been upfront about it, she suspected they’d fought for Kalien.
Even so, she knew they were first and foremost marines. Working for the Company was just part of the job.
“And two transport ships are still docked,” Shearman continued.
“Shall I take us in closer?” Hanning asked.
“No,” Halley said. She was aware of Kalien’s look of surprise but she continued staring through the windows, across the dark nothing of space to the dead space station. “I don’t like it. No visiting ships apparent, and none of the station’s vessels are missing. Send a drone.”
“Roger that,” Hanning said. She played her hands across the pilot’s desk and a soft hiss sounded from elsewhere in the ship. They watched the drone flit toward the Trechman Two.
“We’ve got to get on board,” Kalien said.
“If and when I’ve declared the place safe,” Halley said.
“There’s research on that station we need.”