Bab 104: Pesticide for Xenomorph

In the nerve center of the outpost's control room, a haze of blue light casts an eerie glow over the array of holographic screens floating in mid-air. The scents of hot circuits and the crisp, recycled air mix in a blend of technology and urgency. I receive the real-time feed from the surveillance drone, its digital camera capturing grainy images of a monstrous horde that has mobilized toward the outpost. "Estimated time of arrival: 2 hours, 48 minutes," a robotic voice intones from the control panel, amplifying the weight of every tick of the clock.

I swipe my fingers across the screens, expanding the drone's view to the north and south, examining the teeming sea of creatures from multiple angles. I need to understand how many fronts we're facing here.