An Alien Transformation Story

(Woman to Xenomorph)


She wasn’t healthy, not anymore. Nobody had killed a Xenomorph Queen before, and so nobody knew the consequences for doing so. At the time, a psychic link had been formed between the two: human and alien alike.

There was no escape. Ellen Ripley had though she was safe, but even now a monster lurked below the surface of her thoughts; the surface of her skin. Hard chitin formed in a solid, subdermal layer, strengthening her and turning her into something… More.

The humans nearby her were little more than cattle. They were her prey, and would soon fall victim to-

++ATTENTION, CREW. IT IS NOW MORNING, STANDARD EARTH TIME.++

Ripley gasped, eyes snapping open. She fumbled at too-soft sheets, kicking and screaming in a blind panic.

Immediately, impossibly hands grabbed her shoulders, wrenching her down, pushing her against her bed. “Calm down, Warrant Officer,” said a soothing, mechanically-inflected voice.

She didn’t, not at first. Something within her still hungered, a remnant of that impossibly real nightmare. Only after three full minutes of screaming did her lungs finally empty, and her eyes regained a measure of clarity.

Ripley looked into the synthetic face of one of her crewmates aboard U.S.S. Sulaco. Reason reasserted itself, though it took a vast effort on her part. “Bishop. What the hell is going on, and where am I?”

“You are aboard the H.M.S. Endeavor, a Company ship that retrieved our vessel,” he explained, still holding her down. He paused, as if to consider the need to restrain her. “Are you feeling… Well?”

“As well as I’ll ever damned be.” Ripley grunted, lifting her hands and patting the android’s wrists. “Where’s Newt? Or Hicks, while we’re at it?” The brunette sighed with relief as Bishop relaxed some of the pressure, and she rolled her shoulders gratefully.

He paused, and she could almost see the data inload flickering behind his eyes. “I… Am not certain. We have only recently just been rescued. After my rebuilding a standard day ago, I was instructed to watch you for signs of waking.”

“Yeah? Well… I’m awake,” Ripley managed with a half-smile. Her stomach turned as she lifted herself from bed, and she made a pained face. “Hey. Do me a favor and see if you can find where they are. I don’t feel so hot, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to see what I’m about to do to the bathroom.”

“I am not certain that is the wisest decision.” He smiled, kindly. Before she could reply, he held a hand to forestall her. Somehow, a twinkle of mischief entered his gaze as he continued. “But, as far as I am aware, you happen to be the ranking officer in the room. As such, I am duly obligated to follow your orders.”

Ripley laughed, and regretted it. Her head swam, and she nearly fell from the bed. “Thanks.” She grunted with exertion, cupping a hand against her mouth. The woman heard him exit, but she didn’t care about that anymore. All she cared about was reaching the bathroom in time.

Somehow, she made it. Her hands clutched at the toilet’s ceramic, and her chest hiked. She could feel something in her throat, just behind her tongue. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she choked out a cry of distress, feeling whatever they’d been feeding her about to make a surprise entrance.

Instead of food, something hard and sinewy burst past her lips, a muscled tube with too many teeth. It screeched a nightmarishly familiar cry, and Ripley blacked out.

She was changing. Ripley writhed on the bathroom tile, kicking her legs, splintering the nearby cabinets. She lashed out with an arm, and tore deep furrows in the bathroom wall. The wall tore back, shredding skin from her arm to reveal a powerful, glistening black limb beneath.

It was a xenomorph’s arm, and it filled her with dread and terror alike. She screamed and scrambled back, pulling at it as though she could tear it from her. She nearly did, her other arm having more strength than she’d accounted for.

Too much strength. The skin on that arm split as well, baring a matching alien arm. She was changing, transforming into an alien despite her brain’s frantic every assertion to the contrary. Her chest hiked, then barreled out, bursting free of its human cage. The back of her skull extended, eyes falling from a glossy face that no longer needed to see.

Slowest of all, new vertebrae clicked into life behind herself. A sharp, razor-tipped tail slipped from her tailbone, twitching at the air as it tasted freedom for the first time. It ached and forced her to a half-stooped posture, but the stance felt oddly natural to her.

She had used too much energy just now. She needed to rest, needed-

Ripley screeched. She couldn’t open her eyes because there were no eyes, not anymore. She could still ‘see’ the room around herself, but the reasons for why were better left up to scientists and people who didn’t just get turned into fucking monsters.

Spit flecked from her mouth, sizzling away at the deckplate below her. She tried to reassert dominance, to tell herself that all this wasn’t real, that it was just another nightmare. At the same time, she couldn’t help but admit that it was a little too real to be a dream.

++ALERT. ALERT. XENOMORPH PRESENCE DETECTED.++

‘Yeah, no shit,’ thought Ripley bitterly. Her head turned towards the intercom, and she hissed.

++HULL BREACH ON DECK 13-A. MULTIPLE XENOMORPH PRESENCE CONFIRMED.++

‘Oh.’ That wasn’t good.

The bathroom door slid open, and she scrambled back on her hands and feet, her tail dragging on the floor beneath her. A human figure stood in the frame, but she couldn’t see him. At the same time, she also couldn’t feel any warmth from his body.

“Ripley?” Bishop’s voice, impossibly clear through the din of her panic. “I apologize for not explaining sooner, but the Company did predict this could be a problem.”

Ripley gave her best effort at an exasperated growl, slowly working herself into a half-standing posture. Her arms naturally wanted to bend at the elbow, and she felt long and thick spines curling from along her back.

“Fascinating,” Bishop muttered. For his part, he didn’t seem too concerned. Instead, he turned on his heel, motioning for her to follow. “I have located the Corporal and the civilian. If you would please follow me, they’re nearby.” It seemed that Weyland-Yutani policies for arming nonorganic life were still in place, as he remained unarmed.

That wasn’t good either. It meant that he’d need her to help him. Ripley followed him, falling to her hands and feet, crawling like an animal. She’d come to terms with—well, everything about this—later. Right now, she had friends to save and little time or patience to do it.

“There is a Class IV lockdown in effect. Unfortunately, it means that the nearby bulkheads have all been sealed. I cannot open them unaided.” As Bishop spoke, he moved to the right side of a nearby airlock, the wall that divided Medical from what she assumed was the remainder of the ship.

Ripley caught onto his meaning immediately. Her old body wouldn’t have been useful here, and she felt a surprising amount of relief at having been turned into this… Thing. She clambered to the other side of the wall, digging her talons into the metal.

It yielded like butter, and the metal screeched as she pulled at it. The sound was echoed at the other end as Bishop applied his android body’s full strength to opening it, until something above them cracked and the doors’ resistance ceased.

“That was one of the easy ones.” Bishop sounded like he was smiling. Ripley would need to somehow tell him later that he didn’t need to attempt human facial gestures around her; she couldn’t see them anyways. “Now, follow-”

Gunfire drowned what he was about to say next. It came from a nearby hall, and Bishop set towards it at a sprint. Ripley followed him, marveling at her new form’s senses. She couldn’t see who was firing at what, but she could feel them through the deckplate.

There were two set of life forms, human and xenomorph. The troops seemed to be doing a rather good job at holding the aliens back, forming a well-armed cordon that spat death towards the screeching invaders. It wouldn’t be enough, as the aliens drew ever-closer to their impromptu bastion.

“They just keep coming!” A woman screamed in panic. Ripley was reminded of one of the men she’d known on the Sulaco, and increased her pace.

“Space your shots, damn it! They’re only pushing when we reload!” A louder voice cut through the din, and Ripley knew it had to be the squad’s sergeant. She let Bishop approach them first, to explain that she wasn’t a threat.

One of the troopers had been placed on rear-guard, and he saw the android first. Ripley could sense his head turn towards Bishop, then she saw the man lift his rifle. “BEHIND US!”

For a moment, she thought they meant her. Then Ripley’s peripheral senses detected a xenomorph’s tail flicking, and she had enough time to turn before Bishop’s chest exploded.

Aliens! They killed Bishop they killed Bishop she would KILL THEM

She dove upon the thing, literally wrenching its head from its body. It was incredible how easy it was, now that she was in a xenomorph’s body. Apparently the aliens hadn’t counted on something as strong as her fighting them.

There were more though, so many more. At the same time, there weren’t nearly enough of them to hold her back. She charged past the line of fire, through to the creatures that haunted her waking dreams. Her tail launched towards a first, spearing it clear through the face. It didn’t have time to attack her with its tongue, and the muscle flopped weakly against her tail’s bladed tip.

She whirled with a lethal grace, throwing the corpse against another alien, leaping upon a third. This one tried to claw at her, too slowly. She caught its arm, shearing it from the creature’s body in a welter of gore, spattering the walls with its lifeblood.

A sharp pain bloomed from her back, and she ducked beneath a follow-through attack that would have punched a hole through her skull. Naturally, she thought it fitting to respond in kind. She gripped the shrieking alien’s face in her hands, opening her jaw and punching it through the thing’s skull clear through to its brain.

Silence reigned, broken by a quiet scuffing from behind her. She whirled, and saw the soldiers she’d just saved. They didn’t know what to do, much less to say. She had been afraid they would attack her, but apparently they’d been briefed. That was good, she didn’t want to shed needless violence. Their footsteps echoed down the corridor, and Ripley was left with the corpses of the alien’s she’d butchered, their steaming blood, and a dying friend.

“Ripley…”

Ripley turned her head towards the sound, and could feel Bishop hemorrhaging whatever passed for cybernetic viscera. She scrambled to his side, even as he lifted a small cloth from his fatigues. He fumbled with it, but his strength was fading.

Bishop nearly dropped it down a vent, and surely would have were it not for Ripley. She caught his arm in one of her hands, crooning with concern. The small scrap of fabric had a scent to it, and she drank it in. It was Newt’s, it had to be.

Her head turned to his, and she so dearly wanted to ask him why, if there was anything she could do. But it was too late, the moment had passed. Bishop had already died, or as close a thing as was possible for an android.

She didn’t know what to do, and considered her options for a long, hard moment. Then Ripley took a deep breath through her mouths, flicking her tail. Loathe though she was to do it, she’d need to slip into her nightmares.

There, in that instinctive state, she’d be able to track Newt. She’d be able to find her, and protect her. Ripley took a deep breath in

and became The Drone. That was the best way she could describe this. It was a loss of feeling, of self. At the same time, she gained something so much more. She gained her new body, a form of power and strength.

The Drone took another deep breath, memorizing flavors that her waking mind wasn’t able to comprehend. Then she set off, scrambling up from the floor to the wall to the ceilings. She didn’t want to risk being hurt in combat, much as she wanted to help those soldiers from before.

Of course, she certainly could help. The aliens didn’t seem to always hunt in packs. On occasion, they splintered off into smaller hunting groups. These were easy to ambush, and all it took in most cases was a quick lash of the tail.

But The Drone couldn’t be too distracted. She had a job to do. She had to find what her waking mind wanted, to find her child. It was easy, so easy. The scent carried through the ducts with ease, through the ship. There was something else there, though. There was something in the room. Something alien.

The Drone burst from the vent, falling upon it and screeching. She tore at it, enraged that it would dare threaten her child. It didn’t have time to react. It only died.

Victorious, she turned. There—in the corner. What she was looking for. The little alien. She stalked towards it, taking it in her hands, hearing it shriek. She knew it wouldn’t scream for long, especially when—

“RIPLEY!”

She shuddered, holding the scrambling alien in her hands. It took her a moment to remember her name, and another for Ripley to realize she was holding Newt aloft in one of her claws.

Ripley dropped the girl, stumbling back in horror, slinking away from her with a xenomorph’s ease.

“RIPLEY, HELP!” Newt screamed, louder.

Ripley realized then that the girl hadn’t intentionally called to her. She’d just been crying for help, to the one woman who could protect her, to the one woman who would. Ripley angled her tail to the ground, and the steel beneath her shrieked as she swiped four lines into it, a facsimile of an ‘R’.

Newt wasn’t screaming anymore. The girl looked to the R, then to the xenomorph. Her heart raced, and the girl struggled to understand.

Ripley patted the R, then her own chest. She could hear gunfire from the hallway, getting closer and closer. It wouldn’t be long now before the two were caught up in this.

“But… Hicks…”

Two words. That was all it took to turn Ripley’s transformed blood to ice. She looked to the body on the ground, the one who’d blocked the doorway. She still couldn’t see, couldn’t recognize him for what he was. But she suspected.

Ripley sobbed. She wept with a body unsuited for such emotion, falling to her hands and knees and thumping her tail against the ground. Something about the motion must have settled Newt’s mind, because the little girl slowly rose from her terrified huddle, approaching the xenomorph and patting her head.

Ripley didn’t deserve it, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. She slowly rose to return the hug, cradling Newt’s body in her hands. The gunfire in the hallway stopped, and Ripley looked up in time for a xenomorph to enter the room. It was larrge. It was one of the Hive Guard, just as she was a Drone. Were she to fight it, she would lose.

She flexed her arms, and the little alien in her embrace popped. She wouldn’t fight it. There was a way to become a Hive Guard, just as the other had. In killing a Queen, she’d ensured she would become her new queen’s protector. All she needed was to implant the Gift into a being her waking nightmare cared for.

The Drone’s chest heaved, and she angled her head towards the alien’s. It wasn’t dead, just broken. It would need to survive, if it were to bear their new queen. The Drone coughed her Queen’s Gift into the girl’s mouth, feeling her child take hold within the girl immediately.

Her job done, The Drone looked to the Hive Guard. He clicked, and turned. His soldiers, the ones from the hallway, filtered into the room. They surrounded The Drone respectfully, and she nodded to them. Free of the Queen’s Gift, she would be free to grow into a Hive Guard herself, and they would become her own loyal cadre.

She hadn’t been healthy, but she was now.