"It's an honour to meet you, William," said Captain Gray.

Rhys cleared his throat uneasily. "I think now's the time I explain a few things," he said.

"Yeah," agreed William. "And I'm all ears."

"Well, it's like this," Rhys began, as if about to weave a fairytale in which Will would take the lead. "This... We are Hudson Company. And you are Hudson. This is your platoon, Will."

Will leapt to the obvious misinterpretation. "You mean I'm in charge?!" he yelped.

"Umm, no," Rhys backtracked, scratching his chin beneath that debatably unregulatory beard. "Captain Gray's in charge. But it's named in honour of you."

"Oh," said Will, considering the ramifications. "So, like, what do I do to get this treatment? Hey, am I a marine too?!"

"You were."

"Sweet!"

"But then you died."

"Bugger..."

Rhys shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. Captain Gray looked perfectly happy to watch his sergeant squirm. Will bit his lip and weighed up the sizeable disadvantages in knowing your own fate. He felt penned in again.

"You do a great thing, Will," said Rhys defensively. "If you hadn't led the way, this company would never have been formed."

"It's not like they picked your name from a hat, son," Captain Gray finally added.

"Cool," said Will impatiently. "So what do I do?"

Rhys looked to Captain Gray. They'd obviously anticipated this question. Now Will anticipated a fudged answer. He wasn't disappointed.

"If we thought it was in your best interests to know certain things about your future, we'd tell you," said Rhys.

Will rolled his eyes and sighed to himself. "So, what's this decision I make? Drop outta school and join the corps? You know mom's gonna love that."

"Hmm, no," Rhys went. "That's kinda more a consequence of your decision."

"Carl..." said Captain Gray in a low voice.

"I've said enough," said Rhys, clapping a fist against his palm. "I didn't bring you forward to scare you. I brought you here so you can see what it's like... thanks to you."

Captain Gray cleared the phlegm from his throat with a guttural bark, then he took over. "Yes, young William, we're doing a special training exercise today. You're free to observe, or even take part if you wish. Now, where's Private Thomson?"

Private Thomson, it emerged, hadn't been seen all morning. As the company's highest ranking comtech his duties were more to the squad's technology than to their training exercises. He had therefore been exempt from all the fun of dressing up in grass and nobody had really noticed.

"Isn't that him, sir?" said Corporal Taylor, tracking the movement of a running man with a pointing finger.

"What in blue hell is he doing?" hissed the captain.

"Looks like he's chasing Monty again," said Rhys.

The others all murmured their agreement with that observation. Will turned to Rhys and mouthed, "Monty?"

Then Monty came into view, running from his hiding spot between barrack buildings. Will and the marines watched a skinny little marine try to keep up with the agile creature. His attempts were futile. Monty was just too fast to be caught. He pounced from one spot to another, digging into the ground with his long metallic claws then launching clear into the air. He landed running and bounded along the ground toward his audience, his tail helping keep his balance.

"What the hell is that?" cried Will.

"Monty," sighed the entire company wistfully.

Monty ran straight for Captain Gray, his elongated black head bobbing just inches from the ground. Will could see plenty of teeth, but no eyes, so he took a step to safety behind Rhys and the captain. Then, suddenly, Monty came to a halt and sat down obediently in front of Gray. An exhausted Private Thomson finally caught up.

"Something wrong, private?" asked Gray.

"Monty... doesn't want... to do a... training exercise... today," Thomson reported breathlessly.

Gray looked aggravated. "What do you mean: he doesn't want to do an exercise? It's a droid! It doesn't exist for any other reason."

"I prefer the term 'artificial alien' myself," said a voice from within Monty. It was a flat, monotone voice, but it still sounded smug to Will.

"I prefer the term 'scrap metal'," Gray growled back, then to Thomson, "I thought you fixed this. What's wrong now?"

"It's the only way it can be done, sir," Thomson grovelled. "It we don't let him reason for himself he won't act like a real alien. Preprogramming just won't have the same effect."

Will looked at Monty. Monty looked back at Will - as much as something without any eyes could look at someone. It moved its head to face him, as something capable of sight would do if it was sizing you up for lunch.

"So, what does Monty want to do instead?" asked the captain sarcastically.

"Umm, he wants you to read him another story, sir," said Thomson. Amused dissent passed through the crowd. Will laughed at the robot. Monty continued to watch him.

"Little Women," said the droid. "Chapter eight."

Gray shook his head. "He loves that chapter," he sighed.

"Sir?" said Rhys.

"N-nothing," said Gray, snapping out of it. "Right, this is what's gonna happen. Thomson, seeing as this is all your fault, you're going to stand in for Monty. We'll put you in a black jumpsuit and you can wear some foam on your head. Hudson, that makes us a man short, so you're with Rhys."

Will nodded. It could be fun.

"And someone get this waste of steel outta my sight," he spat at Monty. The alien droid ignored him, so he turned sharply and marched away in a way that only third generation army brats do.

It was time for Rhys to take charge. "Okay, we'll go over scenario 12 again. A squad are with me. B squad are with Taylor. You know your positions."

They did. Breaking into two teams, the entire company split up and headed off in opposite directions. Only Will and Rhys stayed behind. Private Thomson shuffled away dejectedly to put on his alien costume. And, of course, Monty just sat there.

"Crap alien," Will sniffed.

"Huh?" said Rhys.

"Who designed it to have a giant cock for a head?"

Monty did not take kindly to the remark. He opened his mouth and out slid an inner jaw of sharp, polished metal teeth. Will snorted with laughter.

"Is that supposed to be scary or funny?" he retorted.

"Don't mock it, eh?" said Rhys indignantly. "These are the scourge of a hundred colony worlds. They are mankind's greatest natural enemy."

Will was still not impressed. "Brings a whole new meaning to the word, 'dickhead'," he laughed. In response, Monty lifted a paw and gave William the finger with one metal claw.

"Look, Will, it's one of those that kills you," said Rhys.

Will fell instantly silent. Monty looked more smug than ever.

"Whatever happened to it not being in my best interests to know certain things about my future?" Will cried.

"Yeah, well, you were being a prick," said Rhys. "Now, lets go get you and me fixed up for this exercise."

Rhys started back toward the barracks. Will followed quietly behind. Private Thomson emerged and passed them. He looked ridiculous in his costume. Rhys sent him after the others. They were just short of the door when Monty came bounding past, laughing at eighty decibels as he disappeared into the building. Will was already plotting his revenge.

NOTES:
This is the chapter which links the story firmly into the "Aliens" mythos, with references to Hudson's future career in the marines and his deaths at the hands of the aliens. Monty is the only thing that even resembles an alien from the movies in this entire story, and even he isn't a real one. Maybe Will's amusement at Monty's phallic head and prior knowledge of his killing by one is what makes him so panicky in the movie. Monty's line about preferring the term 'artificial alien' pays homage to Bishop's contextually similar line about preferring the term 'artificial person' in "Aliens". Thomson is another character named after a member of Slipknot.