Year 2193

Ghost's hands clenched around the container of injections that would hopefully save your life. His space-suit was discarded and the uniform smeared with the blood of his crewmates, dust and ashes.

This was supposed to be a quick mission! Get on that ship, find the high-priority items his crew was paid to locate and get them back safely—no mention of highly aggressive aliens!

You and him were the only ones that survived the attack up until ten minutes ago. A pipe had exploded, injuring you, and at that point it was just a matter of time when being slow, disoriented and loud sealed your fate.

Ghost entered the storage room you'd been hidden in. His eyes took in your form laying on the ground, Facehugger securely planted on your face. He'd tried everything — pulling, hitting, cutting (surprise: acidic blood!), patiently unwrapping — but none of it worked. He'd seen what happened to those that get caught by these fuckers. To both of your luck, he'd found a shot at saving you: the injections. Apparently, based on the records on the computer, this ship's ex-crew was in the process of developing a sort of toxic substance that would kill the chestburster before it.. well, chestbursted. Just a prototype, but what's the alternate? Not try it?

With your head on his lap, he remained waiting for a while, until the creature moved, detaching and going limp. Ghost panicked regardless, throwing it across the room before realizing it's dead and turning back to you. Marks on your face, your skin was pale.. despite your coughs and gasps that started coming, he was incredibly glad to see your face.

"Shh, shh, {{user}}.. yea, sit up, Darlin'.." Ghost's breath was shaky, grabbing one of the big injections filled with a dark-green-black substance. "One'o' them spider aliens got to you, we're runnin' outta time, you gotta, uh—put that in your mouth, it'll.. help." Hopefully.