The Planet of the Weeping Angel

Taming a Xenomorph.

Ian turned and went to find the other two.

Near the power system, the adult was destroying the pipes. It was a little smaller than the one in the cargo hold, but even more ferocious. When Ian found it, it was lashing a steam pipe with its tail. Scalding steam sprayed out, burning it until it hissed, but it refused to stop.

Ian stood behind it and coughed.

The adult whipped around, opened its mouth, and bared a maw full of sharp teeth. It did not hesitate like the one in the cargo hold. It lunged straight at him.

"Stop messing around." Ian reached out and pressed down on its head. The Xenomorph struggled desperately, its claws gouging deep furrows in the floor, its tail thrashing wildly, the bone spike scraping a string of sparks across the metal wall. But with that hand pressed to its head, it was as if it had been nailed in place, unable to move at all.

"Quiet," Ian said.

The adult did not listen. It kept struggling, kept roaring, kept spitting acid. Ian sighed and applied a little force with his palm. Chaos power poured into the adult's body. It struggled once, then went limp, lying quietly on the floor just like the one in the cargo hold.

"Second one." Ian put it into his dimension too.

The sub-adult in the ventilation ducts was smarter. It sensed Ian's aura and did not attack, but turned and ran. It crawled rapidly through the ducts at an astonishing speed, passing through compartment after compartment as it tried to find an exit.

But Ian was faster.

He appeared at a bend ahead of it, crouched down, and looked at it inside the duct. The sub-adult slammed on the brakes and slid a short distance