The pack moved slowly through the never ending whiteness of the mist. They seemed to have been walking for days, the mist never changed so the difference between day and night was unnoticeable. How long had they actually been on this rotten planet? Webley thought to himself. His eyelids kept dropping, but there was no stopping for a rest as long as they were out in the open. The xenomorphs had the advantage out here, they could come at them at any time, from any direction.

 Ganchan supported a groaning Conor along, his leg still in a bad state. Fizo was worried about Conor. The long walk and the sleep made most members cold, but Conor's cheeks were flushed and his normally wild and untamable hair now lay sleek and wet against his forehead. A fever could mean infection.

"Somebody else carry Conor for a while", Gan said while gently setting Conor on his own feet.

"Seems like your getting heavier every step of the way spud."

Conor wobbled while trying to support his weight on his good foot, with some effort he lifted his head to give Gan a smirk.

Just as he seemed to be tipping over, Thomas grabbed his arm and swiftly swung him over his shoulder.

"Lets get you moving again rookie."

 "How much longer do you think it is Solo?" Webley asked the android.

"At this rate, my calculations say its about a days walking."

"Crap. Were never gonna make it out of here alive. The entire pack is exhausted, this dampness is rotting away our equipment, Fizo tells me it is causing Conor’s wound to infect, not to mention the constant danger of the Xeno's!!"

They looked to the front of the pack. Conor had been transferred to Buzz's back now, strapped to him in a makeshift harness.

"I keep thinking this mission can't get any worse, and then it does."

The words had not yet left Webs lips when motiontrackers began beeping.

 "Get into position marines, there's a shitstorm comin our way!"

The exhaustion mixed with the adrenaline gave a weird feeling. The pack was on edge, but unfocussed. The creatures made their attack, trying to single them out. They survived on pure blind luck, with no time to think, only to shoot. Finally the gunfire died down.

“Holy shit!” Woody came bouncing out of the mist.

“I must have shot about a dozen of those assholes!”

Everybody felt a sense of relieve as they got themselves back together. As the rush of the adrenaline left their bodies, the fatigue hit back hard. Buzz was still carrying Conor on his back. He could just about carry and point his own gun, still set on proving his worth as a marine.

“I’m sorry marines, but there’s no resting now. We’ve got to keep going while we are exposed like this.”

 There was a bit of moaning, but they all knew they couldn’t stay in the same place. They started walking again, when they heard the beeping of the motiontrackers again. Their hearts sank.

“How many?” Webley  shouted from the back. Nobody answered him, but he knew fast enough.

They were surrounded, Xeno’s were coming at them from all directions.Appearing from the mist  in tremendous numbers. There was no way out, nothing left to do. The only thing left was to empty their mags,  and pray it would be enough. But Webley knew it wouldn’t be enough.