But then he began to hear voices.

"He's waking up..."

"Can he hear us?"

"Mr Hudson..?"

The words meant little to Hudson, but they continued to echo inside his head until he pieced together their meaning. That could have been minutes. That could have been hours. His brain was yet to recognise the passage of time. When he worked out what the words meant, he tried to put them in some sort of context. He had a vague memory about being skewered by an alien, but dismissed that as a dream.

When it all came back to him in a flash of lucid horror, his eyes shot open and he sat up with a start. He let out a rasping yelp and tore himself from his restraints. He flailed on the bed for a few moments as his vision materialised again. Then he saw before him two scientists: an Oriental woman and a middle-aged man. Hudson was immediately attracted to the woman, though something within his animal side told him that was wrong. He ignored it.

"W-w-w-w-what the f-f-f-fuck?!" he cried.

The man sidled up and smiled. "It's alright," he said. He was English. "You're quite safe, Mr Hudson. You're on the USS Patna. There aren't any vicious extra terrestrials on board."

"Yet," snickered the woman. She was Chinese.

Hudson blinked and looked between the two. "What... how..?"

"When you're feeling up to it," the man continued. "Mr Bishop will speak with you. He's very keen to hear everything you have to say."

Hudson frowned. "B-bishop?"

"Michael Bishop," came the reply.

Hudson thought this through. "Who are you?" he rasped.

"I am Doctor Peacock," said the man.

"And I am Doctor Chen," said the woman.

Hudson promptly fainted. Whilst asleep he dreamed once more of Acheron, though he could not remember that name, just as he couldn't put names to the faces of the characters in his dream. But he knew them. He knew very little, but he knew that he knew them. Or he thought that he knew that he knew that he knew them, even though he knew that he knew very little. Then he began to think about how peculiar the word "knew" sounded once repeated too often too quickly, and promptly woke up.

When he awoke, he found himself seated at a table. His wrists and ankles were shackled, and he wore a white gown that had been tied tightly around his person. He was sat at a table, across from a face he thought he recognised. The man was bald, bruised and wore a hefty bandage across one side of his head. Hudson noticed that he had a synthetic left ear.

"Good morning," said the man in a gravelly voice. "Do you know me?"

Hudson frowned. "B-bishop?" he said.

"That's right," said the man. "You probably recognise me from my droids."

Hudson nodded cautiously. "What... happened?" he asked.

Michael Bishop steepled his fingers, looked to the ceiling with yellowed eyes and took a deep breath, which he let back out in a sigh. He leant forward on the table and stared across at Hudson, a slight smile on his lips.

"Mr Hudson," he began. "You are dead."

This meant little to Hudson, so he continued to sit and stare back.

"You were killed on the planet LV426," Bishop continued. "From what we have gathered from other sources, you were captured by aliens during an ambush of your stronghold. You died on the planet Acheron, Mr Hudson. But we have brought you back to life."

Hudson blinked. "Uh, thanks."

"You should be honoured," said Bishop. "It cost us a small fortune. We wouldn't just do it for anyone. But then, you're very special to us. Do you know why, Mr Hudson?"

Hudson shook his head.

Bishop hesitated, then waved his hand, "It would probably bore you to tears, anyway. The main thing is, you're back. You're alive, and you've got a long life ahead of you. All we ask is that you allow us to perform a few... uh, tests... before you go. After that, you're free to do as you please."

Hudson swallowed deeply.

"So, do you have any questions?" asked Bishop.

Hudson had one. "Yes... how?"

Bishop tensed up at this question, though he did not hesitate in answering it, so Hudson feared he was lying. "Cloning," said he. "When the atmosphere processor exploded you were all but vapourised. It took a lot of work, but we collected enough DNA from the fallout to piece you back together. Clever, huh?"

Hudson nodded.

"Any more questions?" Bishop prompted.

Hudson thought. "Yes," he said. "Where's the bathroom?"

Bishop helpfully unshackled Hudson and summoned doctors Peacock and Chen to take him back to the ward. Having never had medical insurance, Hudson had never experienced such luxury. It felt more like a sterile hotel suite, and indeed, it was en suite as well. Peacock and Chen waited outside the door with the armed guard as Hudson disappeared into the cubicle.

A second later there was a horrified shriek and Hudson came charging out like a crazed animal with his gown flapped open. He took Peacock by the shoulders. Chen got a full view of Hudson's external reproductive system and raised a hand to cover her smile. Hudson glared menacingly into Peacock's face.

"What... is... fucking... wrong... with... me?!" he gasped.

Peacock frowned. "I... Mr Hudson, there is nothing wrong. I checked."

"What?!" screamed Hudson, tearing his gown further apart so that Peacock now got the full monty as well. "Look at it! There's something growing on the end! Something went wrong in the cloning process! I'm a freak!"

Peacock continued frowning for a few moments more, exchanging puzzled looks with his fellow doctor. Then an enlightened expression spread across his face, and he placed a calming hand on Hudson's shoulder.

"No, you're not a freak," he said. "You're just an American."

Hudson snorted. "What's that got to do with it?"

Peacock turned to Chen and said quietly: "Mr Hudson needs a little operation before he is back to his old self. Can you fetch me some type B anaesthetic and a pair of surgical scissors, please?"

Chen nodded, still puzzled. "What size?" she asked.

"Oh, the smallest should do," replied Peacock. Then he turned back to Hudson and urged him toward the bed. "If you sit down, we'll sort you out in a jiffy. This is nothing to be worried about. But neither of us being Americans, it never occurred to us, I'm afraid."

Hudson was more than dubious, though stopped resisting and returned to lying on the bed. He lay there looking at the ceiling, seeing alien creatures in the patterns as he twiddled his thumbs, whilst the doctors fussed around him.

"I didn't know he was Jewish," muttered Chen. "It's not on his profile."

"Oh, he isn't," replied Peacock. "It's just a funny little Yankee tradition."

Peacock seized the hypodermic spray nozzle from Chen's tray and lowered it into position. Hudson felt nothing, of course, though he heard the pop as the anaesthetic was propelled through the skin of his doodah. A few seconds later, and he could not feel that it was even there. This was a frightening sensation, and Hudson began to feel like a woman to the extent where he crossed his arms over his nipples.

Now, Peacock wasn't aware of what else had happened during the cloning process, but as he made the first incision with the surgical scissors, everything became clear. A jet of acid blood spurted out. It dissolved the scissors in a matter of seconds, then started work on his hands. He leapt up screaming, slamming into Chen before throwing himself to the floor.

"Shi-i-i-i-t!" screamed Chen, finding acid eating through her legs.

Hudson craned his neck to see what all the fuss was about. At about the same time, the security guard began to sway and then flopped to the floor, his gun clattering underneath Hudson's bed.

"Hey," said Hudson wearily. "What's going on?"

But Peacock and Chen were flailing around on the floor, screaming for mercy and forgiveness and cursing the very name of Michael Bishop. When the screaming died down, Hudson slid from the bed and seized the gun. He walked around the end of the bed. There, the corpses of the two doctors lay, acid bitten and dissolved. Acrid white smoke rose from both bodies.

"What the fuck..." said Hudson under his breath.

Before his wound sealed, one more drop of acidic blood dripped from the end of his cock and onto the floor. In an instant, that splatter began to bubble, and within a few more seconds, that splatter was a hole, and Hudson could see into the female locker room immediately below. He grinned. Except then that drop of blood continued to burn through and dripped onto the head of a pretty young thing. She screamed once before flopping down dead.

"Oh, shit, no!" cried Hudson, stamping his foot.

At this point, the security guard began to stir, though at first Hudson did not notice. He was watching all the beauties that had dropped their towels and had come rushing naked to the aid of their fallen pal. The first Hudson knew of the other guy was when he slammed his hand down on the emergency alarm and klaxons began to blare. Hudson immediately whipped the gun up and blew the guard away.

"Gotta think, Hudson," he told himself. Trembling, he stood there and gathered his thoughts. He wound his gown around him tighter. That smarted his wound, and led him to check it out. He cursed Peacock's corpse in passing for only doing half the job.

As he left the ward he could hear heavy army boots hitting deck panels and quickly pinpointed a direction. In fact, he pinpointed three directions, for they were closing on all sides. He was not going to be able to escape by conventional means. He spied a small bulkhead at floor level and set to work on opening it. Beyond was a network of dark tunnels. Beyond was the expansive life support chutes. He crept inside and sealed the bulkhead closed behind him.

He waited until more guards arrived at the ward, found him missing and took off again before clicking the rifle's light beam on and proceeding deeper into the bowels of the ship. It was hot and stuffy in the tunnels, which Hudson found ironic. Very nervous, he found the need to fart regularly, and truly hoped they would end up wafting into Michael Bishop's personal boudoir. In fact, it wasn't long before Hudson heard Bishop's voice, and pressed himself against one bulkhead to listen.

Bishop was speaking.

"Look, corporal, if you don't get him back to that ward in fifteen minutes, you're gonna have a much bigger problem than a clone with a gun. Do you understand me?"

Another voice that Hudson did not recognise said, "Yes, sir." Then Hudson heard more heavy army boots running away, and Bishop sighing.

Hudson hoped Bishop was alone, especially in light of what he had planned. He flipped open the bulkhead door, cocked the rifle once more and shot blindly in the direction of the voice. The bullet blew Bishop's synthetic ear off and sent him flying dazed into the far wall.

"Aha!" cried Hudson, leaping from the chute. "Now you are fucked!"

"Nonononono!" cried Bishop. "You don't understand. You-"

That was, of course, as far as he got before Hudson blew a hole in his wrinkled face and pumped the gun ready for another shot. Taking stock of how many rounds he had remaining, he decided against that. Bishop was dead, and that was all that mattered to him. Hell, killing the human version was almost as satisfying as killing that bastard fake one!

"He's down here!" said a voice down the corridor.

Hearing several booted fellows running in his direction, Hudson slipped back inside the chute and sealed the bulkhead in time. Breathing hard, he set off once more, this time taking every downward tunnel he could find. It was his intention to reach the lower decks, and launch himself in an EEV. Maybe they would blow him up, but from what he knew of the Patna, it didn't have as advanced weapons as the Heirutas, let alone the Sulaco.

Hudson didn't know where those thoughts had come from. They just seemed to manifest themselves in the forefront of his brain. However, whenever he consciously tried to probe for more memories, he could find none. He could not force this. He had a lot of self-discovery to do. That could wait, however. At this time, he should be more concerned with self-preservation, rather than self-discovery.

"Wait..." said a wavering voice.

Hudson immediately spun round with the gun, ready to blow something apart with glee. However, when he saw the pitiful being that was caught like a startled rodent in the light of his rifle, he flipped his finger away from the trigger.

There, in an alcove, was something only vaguely human. It was shaped like a man, yet its flesh was raw and bubbling. The metal all around it was smoking and sizzling gently. It was as if the creature was made of acid.

Hudson stared into its eyes and knew them instantly.

"Hicks..?" he said.

The creature nodded pitifully.

"What the fuck did they do to you?"

The creature scratched its head and dissolved what remained of its ear. "They cloned me," it said, unmistakably Dwayne. "They boarded the Sulaco and they took a sample and when I died they cloned me. They took a sample... but it was poisoned with acid. And now... now look at me. I'm an acid beast, Will, dissolving myself from the inside and the outside."

Hudson had to stop himself from retching. "Why?" he demanded.

"Who knows?" gasped Dwayne. "Who cares any more?"

Hudson felt something turn over inside. "I still love you, Dwayne."

"I'm sorry," said Dwayne. "I should have told you the truth."

Hudson shook his head. "It's alright," he said. "You don't have to explain."

"No," protested Dwayne. "I must."

Hudson wanted to touch and comfort him, but knew he couldn't.

"Will..." he began. "You know I said there was someone else? Well, I guess there always was, but I just never knew. His name's Jesus, Will. And I love him. And he loves me. He even loves you, whatever you've done. Now you see why I couldn't stay with you, baby. Jesus demands that people like me take no lover."

Hudson was confused. "I... I don't understand."

"I was leaving the Corp, Will," he continued. "I was becoming a priest."

Hudson took a step back as a pool of Dwayne's dissolved acidic toes spilled toward him. He watched as Dwayne's tongue dissolved, and then his jaw, until he was unable to speak. However, he did not need to. Hudson could see in his eyes what he was asking him to do.

"I love you, Hicks," he whispered, and shot his friend twice.

Fighting back the tears, Hudson took off once more, heading down and down. However, he was never to reach the EEV bay, if there ever had been one. He reached a dead end and was forced to kick his way through a grating. Of all places, he found himself in the reactor chamber.

It was there that he began to feel it. At first he thought it was just a mild case of indigestion. He didn't actually think that something was moving its way through his digestive organs. But then, when he felt several sharp, searing pains in his lower back, the memory of the alien mounting him from behind in Acheron's sub-basement came flooding back.

"Noooo..." he rasped, pulling himself along the floor. "Noooo..." The doors far behind swept open and a gang of marines stomped into the room, covering him with their weapons. He did not care anymore. There was only one thing on his mind, and it was not the creature he could feel sliding through his guts. It was the coolant vent just a short crawl away.

"Stay where you are!" came the order.

"Shoot me!" growled Hudson, sticking his ass in the air to give them a target.

He knew they would not. He knew they wanted the beast inside him, and now, finally, he knew what it would mean if they got it. He realised that this was his chance. Not only his last chance, but also his first chance to actually make a difference. He pumped the rifle for its final round and took one final look around.

Then, as the creature burst from his rectum, he planted a round in the coolant vent and blew the ship to kingdom come...

NOTES:
Okay, so I wanted to give Hudson a better send-off than James Cameron did, but that doesn't mean I was going to skimp on the small dick and circumcision jokes. I was also growing fond of the idea of Hicks and Hudson being a couple, and felt the fifth chapter would leave their relationship in a state of bitter acrimony at the story's conclusion. This chapter takes place immediately after "Alien 3", hence the references to the Patna, which was the spaceship that comes for Ripley at the end of the film, and Michael Bishop having an injured head; injuries which he sustains in the concluding minutes of the movie.

An otherwise superfluous epilogue I included when I first posted this story at AvPNews had scavengers find Ripley's blood sample on the prison planet Fiorina, which would have led into "Alien: Resurrection". The way my story ends, it implies that the Company gave up looking for aliens with the death of their Hudson clone, ironically making him the important character to the saga's chronology that the fanboys wanted him to be all along...