Invader Zim (Platonic Scenario - "Persona Non Grata")

                                    

                                          
Warnings: Gore, Violence, Death, Blood, Outer Space, Implied Alcohol Use (Beer), Toxic Mindsets.
Alien (1979)! AU: This follows the basic premise of the film (i.e., the crew of a space tug unwittingly ferries a hostile alien specimen) but differs in many ways.
A.N. - No one has asked for Invader ZIM, but I devoted far too much time to this idea to simply discard it.
***
A force slammed into the rear of the starship at an incredible speed, triggering a series of alarms inside the control bridge as the vessel swerved out of its landing position. Flashing lights accompanied the bright messages that overtook the computer screens and radar. "Heavy damage sustained by hull," announced an automated voice with dissonant serenity, but the panicked howls of the crew smothered its analysis.
"Put the landing gear down now!" roared the captain, lurching forward and clutching the sides of his chair to avoid flying into the windshield. Droplets of spit burst from his mouth, but Darius faced the ominous clouds that broke before his eyes like ancient ruins with unwavering resolve.
Frantic beeps and buzzes emitted from the control panel as the pilot, Jill, yanked the joystick towards herself. "We're coming in at an almost 60-degree angle!" When the screen that displayed the simulation of the planet's surface began to contort and flip, she retracted her hand as if it were a beast gnashing its fangs. "If we land, the ship might split!"
Shouts were tossed back and forth across the bridge. One half of the crew argued for a reckless abandonment of safety, while the other half countered this with crash statistics and a lack of visibility. Instead of contributing to the debate, which was ultimately a fruitless endeavour due to its chaotic volume and emotions, you focused on the dark shape gliding past the corner of the windshield.
It was spherical with what appeared to be engines protruding from its sides, but the object was too far away and obscured by the thick atmosphere to distinguish colour or inhabitant. The possible spaceship dove in front of your nose before descending into the foggy depths of the planet. While no additional sighting of the aircraft was offered, the clouds dissipated to reveal a cold world designed to trap and take all life that visited it.
Rocky formations that ended in spikes jutted from the surface like rows of crooked spears. An earsplitting ringing filled the control bridge that mimicked hundreds of bells tolling at once, and waves of rocks pelted the hull. Sliding across the unfriendly land was akin to tunnelling inside the heart of a typhoon, catastrophic winds that held no deeper wish than to tear apart everything in sight shoving and jerking the starship as if it were a toy.
When the vessel slowed to a stop, it released a stentorian groan that reverberated through the planet. It shook the floor beneath your feet, and for a long while, you expected to hear an explosion and witness flames devouring your vision.
Darius lifted himself from his crumpled position at the base of his seat and murmured, "If that looks as bad as it sounded, we'll both be sending an SOS."
* * *
The spacesuit pulled every part of you towards the barren embrace of the gravel that crunched under the weight of your feet like walnuts. Its clunky and puffy appearance was the embodiment of safety before comfort, and the glass helmet had, after an hour or two of exploration, become a prison of sweat and humidity.
Multiple voices gushed from your handheld transceiver with varying degrees of worry and aggravation, each one clamouring about the disappearance of the pilot and reporting vain searches. The chatter that, combined with the incessant buzz of the static, had begun to irritate your mind was silenced by a click of the receiver button. You expelled a troubled sigh and looked at Darius, who was marching forward with steely composure.