The Xenomorphs were definitely powerful, but only relatively speaking.
In complex terrain packed with people, Xenomorphs were a devastating weapon.
But out in the open, faced with an army hunting them down, those things had no chance of survival.
If Alvin hadn't wanted to see what the Skrulls really looked like, he wouldn't have been particularly eager to come here.
Life in Northern Europe was tough, but even tough days there came with beautiful women around him. What was there to see in these stinking Xenomorphs?
Besides, compared with these places, Peru needed him more as the big boss.
General Ross, an old man who wasn't much for words, had been talking Alvin's ear off, repeatedly asking whether there was a place for the United States' Interstellar Marines on Nidavellir.
The brainless actions of a bunch of politicians had nearly ruined the Allied Forces' efforts on an alien planet.
This stubborn old man, who wasn't much for words, had to take matters into his own hands while he had the chance, to see if there was any room to turn things around.
A sudden withdrawal would hit the Interstellar Marines hard. Just look at what it had cost the United States to pull out of the Middle East. War wasn't the only thing that cost money; even withdrawing could cost a fortune.
Alvin listened to the sounds coming from inside the Spaceship for a while. Only after confirming that Lin Shaoqing and the others had found their rhythm in the attack did he turn to General Ross and say, "Old friend, the Interstellar Marines won't have any fighting left to do on Nidavellir before long. Why keep them stuck there?"
"Training!"
General Ross looked at Alvin with a stern expression and said earnestly, "No matter how well Earth's Training Camps