All right so this is the first time I publish something here. The first chapter is quite heavy in description/explanation to establish the world and characters that will be involved. Reviews are appreciated as I try to better my writing skills, so if you spot sentences that are hard to understand or excessive repetition that I might have missed, please let me know !
Chapter 1
- Earth, 2110-
As the sun rose from its slumber, bringing to the devastated earth its scorching heat and blinding light, another being was waking up. Tucked away between two fallen walls, Tox was slowly and painfully dragging himself away from his dreamless sleep. The frigid cold of the night was already being replaced by the dry and unrelenting heat, and the small space he crawled in last night to get some much needed rest was already hot as a sauna…whatever that was.
Crawling out of the hole, he looked around him, making sure he wasn't attracting some unneeded attention. When he was certain the way was clear he stood up, his bones cracking like dry twigs from the uncomfortable position he slept in. Bringing a hand to his gas mask to wipe away the sand that clung to his lenses, he quickly reviewed his schedule for the day.
He'd heard of a small town not far from here who was supposed to still contain some pretty good loot, mainly canned food and bottled water. He would have to follow the highway to get to it but that meant skulking through the blasted city for a few miles before reaching it. If he hurried he could be one the first to get there before scavengers raided the place… well scavengers other than him anyway.
Tox grabbed his leather-bounded flask only to put it down, realizing how little water was left in it – he would need has much as he could on the long walk ahead and to drink it before he even started was a really bad idea. He made the mistake of not rationing the precious liquid once and had been forced to drink a puddle of infected water, causing him to fall ill for a few days. He'd survived, but learned his lesson.
His eyes scouted the blasted landscape, evaluating the different routes he could take. Most buildings were crumbling to dust, providing cover and protection from both the sun and snipers, which were numerous in these parts. A good majority of the doors were gone, providing easy access in and out of their dark and sheltered belly. The solo scavengers knew how to use them to their advantage and it was common knowledge to those who chose to follow this trade.
Sewers were a bad idea – it stank and crawled with hungry critters that could tear a full grown man to pieces in a matter of minutes. Rats were dangerous, carrying diseases that would drive anyone insane in a matter of hours, causing them to literally claw their faces to death. A simple bite meant death, and the nomad treasured his life too much to take that sort of risk.
The open roads were out the question too - it was the favorite playground of scum like raiders and bandits who would most likely pack some deadly hardware.
Slowly he made a mental itinerary he would follow, carefully planning every steps he would take. He knew some good shortcuts and hiding spot as well as territory he should avoid. His knowledge of the surroundings greatly helped in his day to day struggle for survival - he could look at a map and almost instantly spot a safe route. Every good nomad/scavenger had this gift, making them a slippery bunch who could escape trap with a natural ease bordering the supernatural.
That was his life, as it always had been. Every day he would wake up, determine what he needed and walk to go get it. He didn't have a job, he didn't have money and he sure as hell didn't have a home. And he didn't care. All he needed was on him, stored away in one of his bags or pouches. Why would he settle anyway ? So some village could impose its laws on him and tell him what to do ? To settle down with a woman and have a bunch of kids ? He preferred his dangerous and adventurous life thank you very much.
He generally moved in the shadows, staying away from busy roads and crowded areas. People meant traders, traders meant valuable stuff and valuable stuff meant bandits. Those guys were ruthless, crazed assholes who didn't hesitate to shoot at you for your belongings. Tox had some encounters with them in the past and even though he got out with all his limbs it wasn't the kind of experience he wanted to repeat.
Not that he was completely defenseless either. A good fighter both in hand to hand combat and with something sharp in his hands, he also knew how to shoot a gun but he usually used his to scare people away when they pissed him off. A gun made to much noise, and noise attracted attention he could go without.
Yawning one last time he grabbed his heavy backpack, straighten his coats until they were lose and comfortable and began walking silently. Most people were unnerved by his quiet behavior, finding it creepy and annoying. Tox on the other hand hated loud folks who thought too much of themselves. Chaos was surrounding them and noise only added to it. He'd put a lot of effort and training to become invisible to other human beings and he wasn't about to stop to please random individuals who encountered him on the roads.
Trying to move as fast as he could to take advantage of the lingering shadows, he kept a constant watch of his surroundings, scanning spots most likely to hide either bandits, snipers or bandit snipers. He knew he wasn't the only one around in these parts even if it looked like it – getting lazy and letting your guard down was the only thing some of these guys were waiting for. Tox had witnessed first-hand too many experienced scavengers fall under the cheap shots of snipers as a result of them becoming too cozy with their environment.
Has he moved through the ruins from cover to cover, the sun kept climbing higher and higher in the cloudless sky. The heat from it seared the air, making anyone without proper breathing apparatus eventually gag and choke on the dry and dust filled oxygen. A gas mask was an absolute necessity and Tox made his lasts, repairing it with duct tape when the inevitable holes and cracks appeared. They were hard to come by, full-face ones at least, and seeing as trading was not one of his fortes he tried to keep them until they literally crumbled to dust.
To completely shield himself from the sun and his baking rays he wore layers upon layers of different type of clothing - thick and heavy ones being his favorites. Both keeping his skin from literally burning and offering a degree of protection against shrapnels, it also provided him with numerous places to hide his valuables. To top it off he also wore a hooded cape, hiding his backpack under it and wrapping himself in it during the night.
Taking a quick jog to clear the distance between two buildings, he heard the distant echo of a gunshot reverberate through the still air. A spray of debris on one of his old military boots confirmed that it was aimed at him and he hastily jumped to cover, landing hard on the dusty ground. Some of those assholes are getting smart, he said to himself while dusting his jacket with one of his gloved hands. Not the type to hold a grudge, he ducked under the windows to escape, only to be stopped by a barrage of bullets at the opposite edge of the crumbling wall.
Gritting his teeth under his mask Tox sought an alternate route, looking for ruins through which he could escape. Too bad for him the edifices surrounding his were too badly damaged to provide any form of cover. He sighed as he pulled out his pistol from his coat, making sure a bullet laid in the barrel.
Rapidly etching a plan to uncover the sniper, he snatched a dried up wood plank from the ground. Holding it out in his outstretched hand while he positioned himself under a near window, he slightly poked it off the edge, trying to catch the sight of the shooter. Locking his breath he wiggled the plank in plain sight as he raised his head out the window, his eyes trying to catch the muzzle flash of the weapon as it fired at the piece of wood. Quickly ducking down again the nomad smiled to himself. Three hundred feet, second story, third balcony to the right, laying position he burned the vision in his mind, calculating the angle of the shot he would have to take.
He readied himself, putting his now free hand on the pistol for maximum stability. He had one shot at this. If he missed, the sniper would probably not and he'd be dead before he even realized he had been hit. He breathed deeply, calming his nerves so his hands remained steady. Tapping the rhythm of his heart with his foot, he exhaled slowly. As time seemed to slow down, between two palpitations he made his move. Placing his elbow on the windowsill he rapidly took aim and squeezed the trigger before bending down again.
Seconds passed before the scavenger heard the coward scream in pain. Making haste, he broke out in an all out sprint, rushing to the apartment building where his target hid. He practically flew over the stairs to reach the second floor, following the low whimper of the incapacitated sniper.
He found the empty apartment, his heart racing in his chest and sweat burning his eyes under his mask. The door was lying on the floor giving him a clear view of the interior; it was a simple two rooms place consisting of a small hallway that connected a bathroom to an open kitchen and a living room/bedroom. A set of busted glass sliding doors gave access to the balcony where the now injured sniper stood, face down and grabbing his throat as blood spurted in quick succession.
Grabbing his knife strapped to his bicep, Tox stealthily walked to him, loving the feel of the blade in his hand. The injured man never noticed his presence before the sharp blade pierced through his ribs then to his heart, squealing before giving up his last breath.
''It didn't need to come to this friend. May the after-life be peaceful to you'' Tox simply stated to the corpse, wiping his blade on the dark shirt it wore. Hate was something the nomad didn't really grasp. He didn't hate the man he just killed, he pitied him. The world was a harsh and cruel place and the lifeless body at his feet proved that.
Maybe the man had kids he needed to feed or even a wife and with resources as scarce as they were he may had been forced to live like this to bring sustenance to others. Such were the questions that Tox asked himself every time he took a life. He didn't feel remorse for his actions – he just did what he had to do to survive. Such were the ways of the ruins. If you didn't comply to them you died, as simple as that.
Putting those thoughts aside he searched the guy bag for loot, finding a half empty bottle of water and two cans of food he put in his own bag. The bullets were useless to him so he left them. He also disassembled the semi-automatic rifle and scattered the pieces, not wanting to find another sniper at the exact same location when he'd walk by there again.
The scavenger looked at his pants, basically holding together with tape and shoelaces, and decided to strip the corpse of his, which were clean and hole-free. The black cargo pants were a close fit and Tox appreciated this find – at least now sand would have a tough time finding a way to his thighs. In one of the pocket he also found a working lighter as well as a metal case containing some joints, which were an extremely rare treat in these times. He would keep those, that's for sure.
Now in a good mood even though he had been shot at a few moments before he exited the building, leaving the body to rot under the sun.
- A few hours later-
Tox was making good progress, his nimble feet eating away the distance while he stayed completely out of sight. Midday was coming and most of the shadows were gone, forcing him to move from building to building. He would have to stop soon as noon was the hottest time of the day, and walking while you had the impression of boiling in your own juices was too much of a pain to bother. Spotting an old factory which still had its roof in the distance, he made his way there.
The place was a standard red brick, rectangular factory about six stories high. One of its walls was covered in broken windows, giving a slight insight of what was inside. Rocket impacts were visible and numerous bullet holes riddled its red surface, telling that it was once used as a stronghold of sort to one of the bandit group that roamed the area. The edifice seemed derelict now.
Unsheathing his own made sword, he cautiously entered the building, already appreciating the slightly cooler air inside. Even though the place appeared devoid of life, the experienced nomad knew better than to trust his first impressions. Sticking to the walls he began exploring the decrepit factory, skulking in the dark like a deadly whisper.
The vast working space was littered with junk of all kind, ranging from empty cans to dirty rags. Disused machines had been stripped for parts, their empty shells now home to venomous spiders. Long dried blood splatters covered some walls, witness to the violence that had once took place there. Tox found some bones to confirm it.
A set of cement stairs led to the sub-levels. They were cool and dark, providing a refreshing change to the burning hot and blinding exterior that made you wince without tinted lenses or sunglasses. Spanning two levels, the basement was mostly empty and had previously been used to store excess materials. Empty rolls of metal wires and old wooden boxes were scattered here and there between supporting columns. A disused elevator pit gave access to all levels on the south wall.
Satisfied that he was indeed alone, the nomad allowed himself to breath normally, taking of his mask to wipe the sweat off his brows. Security was hard to find these days, and every moment of respite was deeply appreciated. Letting the somewhat fresh air fill his lungs, he put his sword back in its place.
Finding himself a spot on the dusty floor he put his backpack down, relieved to have this burden of his back for an hour or two. He already had to endure the crushing weight of both a chainmail and different pieces of armor he made on his own, using old street signs mostly, to better protect himself during a fight. Some called it overkill, he called it survival. Besides it strengthen him as he walked.
A Kevlar vest would've been nice, but he hadn't come across one of those in years. A good majority of them were lost during the initial blasts a hundred years back. Soldiers and policemen had then requisitioned the rest to keep the panicked masses from slaughtering their forces while they tried to restore peace. It didn't work and the world slowly tore itself apart, the valuable items lost in fights and ambushes.
Tox carefully sipped some drop of his flask, loving the wetness on his tongue and throat. Most people in the ruins died of dehydration as water supplies were really scarce. Rain was non-existent and most lakes and rivers had dried up following the Big Bang. The atmosphere had thinned after the massive explosions, letting the sun rays evaporate the earth water supply in a matter of years.
This had a devastating effect on the planet flora. She withered and died as most of its plants were not conditioned to survive in such extreme environments. The farmlands of the world were quickly wiped out, leaving once fertile grounds scorched plains of sands unfit to grow nothing more than cactuses and tumbleweeds.
Cattle followed, hunger and starvation taking its toll as they were unable to find the precious grass they so desperately needed. The putrid stench of their corpses still lurked over old farms like the ghost of a once thriving and growing society. Fresh meat was now provided by stray dogs and wild animals unlucky enough to cross the path of scavengers like Tox. They tasted ok and their pelts could be used to make clothing, leather and keep one warm during the freezing nights.
Forests became graveyards of leafless trees, their bark bleached by the sun and the wind like dried bones. Flash fires were common and had wiped dozens of towns from the globe, casting ominous black clouds of smoke that could linger in the air for weeks. What those fires left in their wake were known as ashlands, gray landscapes completely devoid of life that could stretch for miles and where you could walk knee deep in cinder. Nobody ventured there anymore.
What had once been a blue planet full of life was reduced to nothing but ruins and deserts, a barren wasteland hostile to all who had the misfortune to be born on her wretched surface. Groups of survivors formed through the chaos and desperation, realizing that united they stood a better chance of survival. These groups quickly expanded, growing in number each day until they were too big to properly move.
Most of them established makeshift villages through the ruins, settling down near stream of fresh water when they could find them or blasted buildings rich in loot of all kinds. Some of those became well known by loners and traders alike, who made frequent stop to replenish their food supplies or to barter stuff they didn't need.
Blue villages, those near a steady water supply, could grow a small number of fresh veggies and fruits in underground greenhouses, providing greatly needed vitamin to keep diseases like scurvy at bay. They sold those at a very high price, perfectly knowledgeable of their monopole in the matter. To get them you either had to trade very valuable loot, the kind you wanted to keep for yourself, or be in the favors of the village chief. Of course you could always decide to become part of the place, in which case you gained access to a daily ration.
People who didn't want anything to do with those settlements, like Tox, had to find other ways to obtain vitamin, relying on supplements in capsules easily found in what remained of the numerous drugstores and pharmacy scattered in the cities. These locations were considered a trade secret by the scavengers and the unspoken rule was to keep it that way. Hidden supplies where sometimes left behind in caches for other nomads to find.
As he put back his flask Tox remembered the half empty bottle he looted from the sniper. He unscrewed the cap and smelled the liquid, satisfied to see it seemed clean, albeit a little foggy. He put it in his own receptacle, discarding the plastic bottle once it was empty. With the added content his flask was almost full again, which would buy him some time before he'd have to look for more.
With a satisfied sigh he slowly sit, his tired muscles silently thanking him by sending a wave relief to his brain. He briefly shut his eyes, savoring the comfort of the floor and the silence of the place. Through small windows near the ceiling he could see the bright midday light shine. Wanting to celebrate his quick progress, he grabbed the metal case he scavenged earlier and opened it, revealing the aromatic content inside.
The eight tubes were pretty fat, perfectly rolled to look exactly like normal cigarettes. Tox hadn't smoked in a while and the green weed quickly went to his head, relieving him of all the stress he had accumulated over the last months. Each inhalation of the harsh smoke sent him further and further into his thoughts, bending the way his mind worked.
He felt totally relaxed, his eyes as red as the blood he spilled earlier that day. With his middle finger he flicked the hot amber from the joint, deciding to keep the rest for the evening. With a smile he hid the case away in one his pockets, which took him a little more time than it should've.
Having nothing else to do he dug out one of his favorite pass time: his sharpening stone. The once rectangular stone was now small, flat and round, fitting perfectly in the palm of his gloved hands. Tox had created a bundle of knives during his twenty two years on earth, and he made sure each and every one of them was as sharp as it could be. Sheets of metal were easy to come by, primarily from old road signs, giving him plenty of opportunities to satisfy his hobby.
Even though he only used two, his sword and a hunting knife strapped to his left biceps, he liked to keep a few more around. Not only were they amusing to sharpen, it gave him something to trade when he absolutely had to. He was well known among traders and they gladly gave him quality goods in exchange. Tox also provided them with some unusual weapons, ranging from swords to spears to concealed ones like sharpened spoons or throwing stars.
The scavenger grabbed a tightly rolled piece of leather held closed by two laces from his backpack and opened it, revealing his set of knives. Varying in size and shape they were all in pristine condition, their blades shining in the dim light with a metallic glow. Tox had personalized a few with carved wooden handle hydrated with animal oil and sealed with wax from old candles, procuring them a nice, elegant appearance.
He slowly slid one of them off his sheath, careful not to cut himself over the already insanely sharp blade. He brought the knife to his eye, aligning the blade so he could observe the cutting edge and spot sections that needed a little more work. If it was done right it was virtually invisible, able to cut through several layers of clothes and muscles like warm butter and keep on cutting until it met a bone or exited on the other side, most of the time with a bloody result.
His eye quickly noticed an irregularity, the cutting edge deviating by a tenth of a millimeter near the heel, impeding it to be the sharpest it could be. The problem was not enough to use the stone - he instead grabbed his rat-tail file. With a swift and precise movement he expertly slid the blade against it, realigning the edge to a perfect and deadly sharpness.
Satisfied he grabbed the next one. Then the third, and so on and so forth. Like that, time drifted away, the nomad snapping out of it when shadows began to crawl on the walls again. Yawning before repositioning his mask tightly over his face he put everything back in his backpack and painfully stood back up, his butt giving the impression to have been replaced with mashed potatoes.
In a few minutes he was back outside, his tall frame cloaked once again behind the rubbles as he made his way toward the highway.
Chapter 1.5
Close to Jupiter, hidden under a thick invisibility cloak, a vessel approached, its anti-matter engines pushing it directly toward Earth with an eerie silence and incredible speed. The ship was a last generation scientific transport for a race of inter-planetary hunters called the Yautja, most of the times referred to as Predators on Earth.
Its interior was like that of any other Yautja race ship; the walls and ceiling were richly decorated with carved murals and symbols, depicting intense fights or telling stories of past victories. They were made of an alloy whose color was greatly similar to copper, giving the rooms and corridors a rich and clean look. Dim lighting fixture provided a warm, orange glow that tinted the methane and nitrogen fog that lingered on the floor.
Here and there banners sporting the symbol of the ship's clan were hung on a wall or the ceiling. Numerous skulls of unknown animals could be found, pinned on spikes for display and as decorations of sort, imprinting the place with a deep tribal feel. The personnel quarters varied in appearance, changing according to the personal taste of who inhabited them.
The labs, located near the engines at the rear end of the ship, were vast and silent. A different color pattern reigned, the copper replaced with tints of dark grey steel and the engravings making place to red holographic displays that offered to the view a continuous stream of readings. A wide variety of machines filled the numerous rooms, their consoles awaiting the codes that would spring them to life.
At the opposite end of the vessel, in what was called the hunters hall, five tall figures stood under an imposing arch, its rounded form casting intermittent burst of bright light. Three large, rectangular columns formed a triangle under it, each of those displaying in detail the different stage of a hunter's life, from the first kill to his death at the hands of a worthy opponent.
Four of the five Yautjas were loudly talking between each other. Those were Young Bloods, hunters who had just made their first kill. Still too inexperienced to return to their respective clan's ship and take on intelligent preys on their own, they had been assigned to an elder, who would teach them the rudimentary of the hunt. Taking a life was the first step that initiated the training, and the teacher would stick with them until they were ready to continue on the Blooded rank, where they would undertake hunts with the rest of their respective clan.
It was the teacher's task to make sure each and every one of his students passed their Blooded ceremony. Failing there generally meant death and brought dishonor to the clan name, which was considered worse than the cold embrace of the reaper. Most dishonored hunters, having failed to eliminate their prey or killed a dishonorable target, committed suicide in shame, safeguarding the honor the clan while removing themselves from society.
If they didn't they were tracked down and eliminated by a specialist cast of experienced hunters called the Arbitrators, old Yautjas tired of regular hunts and eager to restore order. Killing one of their own was the ultimate thrill, and they enjoyed it beyond anything else. There was an old saying that stated you would only see the Arbitrator hunting you when your head was on his trophy wall.
The teacher that was on board the vessel was himself an arbitrator, and a very good one it was said. Each elder had to, at point, take under his wing Young Bloods, and it was his turn. Elders didn't train members of their clan, preventing any form of favoritism to take hold. Four Young Bloods of different ships were assigned to them and followed them for twenty years, learning what they could about the hunt and its laws.
The training was long, painful and very tiring, almost driving the younglings insane. Punches, kicks, humiliation and starvation were common ways to reprimand incapable students, forcing them to always give the maximum of their capabilities. Teachers were a very hard to please and deeply hated group that accepted nothing under exceptional.
''Shut up you four and listen up !'' roared the instructor to his students, his deep voice easily covering theirs. The Young Bloods immediately stopped talking, afraid to piss off the big male. ''Now, if any of you as given the slightest bit of attention to what I've been saying in the last few days, you'll be able to tell me the name of the specie's that inhabit the planet we are currently heading to. Student Teref'sul ?'' he asked the smallest male of the group.
Fidgeting nervously under the piercing gaze of his teacher, the young Yautja scraped the bottom of his brain to remember his teachings. ''Ehhh…'' he started before receiving a powerful punch right in the face.
''Don't you dare hesitate in front of me !'' exploded Yuta'nektil, flaring his mandibles in annoyance and anger. ''I want an immediate answer or not at all, understood ?!'' he punctuated his last words with another devastating punch that sent Teref'sul to the ground. ''Now, do any of who you have an answer or should I cut one of your fingers ?!''
''Were going to the home world of the Oomans, Instructor.'' responded a tall and muscular Young Blood, confidence reading across his face.
''I see that at least one of you take his training seriously.'' The arbitrator gave a reproachful look to the rest of his students. ''That is right Student Juka'fero. If any of you dimwits remember I have volunteered this group to protect one of our beloved Sister while she collect samples from the planet.'' At the sound of the word Sister the small group emitted a powerful wave of male pheromones.
Trying to get scent out of his nose he barked: ''If you want to survive the trip back to the home ship, you will keep your damned pheromones in check ! You're hunters, not fucking animals so control yourselves !''
The young males all looked down to the floor in shame, their scent quickly fading away, giving the instructor a much needed breath of fresh air. He understood them – they weren't supposed to be exposed to a female this early in their lives. Usually a hunter would meet a female only after he'd achieved Blooded rank and collected a few prestigious trophy to prove their valor as breeders.
Yuta'nektil had pulled some ancient strings he had with high ranking elders and Grand Mothers to obtain the right to itch a ride on the scientific vessel on its way to the once blue planet. He'd learned that a Sister was going to be onboard a day before they departed – she was a last minute replacement for the male originally supposed to go who had apparently blown himself to pieces during a weapon test.
This escort mission was going to be perfect to teach them extensive hiding techniques in a hostile environment, and hostile this planet definitely was. After the Oomans had bombed themselves to near extinction more than a hundred years ago, the planet had become off limit to every hunters without proper authorization. Only experienced Yautjas were supposed to hunt there, and it was only by promising not kill anything that the instructor had obtained the right to set foot on its burned surface.
He and his group would only be scouting the areas near the ship while the female would collect samples and take readings. He'd met her before they departed and was convinced she didn't even need their help to be safe – she wasn't the most impressive Sister he had encountered, but she had intelligent, calculating eyes that freaked him out a little. He had a six sense when it came to size someone, and it was yelling at him to stay away from her.
Her presence among them had caused him more pain than he thought he would get, finding himself obligated to constantly keep a close watch over the hormone filled males. Internal fighting and almost constant arguing was plaguing the group since they got onboard, the female pheromones floating in the air driving them a little over the edge. Luckily for him she had isolated herself in her lab, preventing any direct contact with the jumpy bunch who would've killed each other over her.
His gang was composed of young, half-witted males without much experience that would probably shoot themselves in the head with a plasma caster while trying to look down the barrel. They were eager to prove themselves and that made them reckless and daring in a very bad way, with the sole exception of Juka'fero - the youngling had potential and was on his way to become a capable and cunning hunter. He kept his cool around his teammates and didn't take part in any of the numerous fights. I'll leave him to look after the Sister while I go teach those morons thought Yuta'nektil while discreetly observing the young male.
''Instructor, may I ask a question ?'' demanded Kuji'janah, a Young Blood missing his lower right mandible. His light frame made him a fast and agile long range hunter, preferring to stalk his prey and wait for the opportune time to strike by learning his habits while safely hidden. His choice brought him unpleasant mockery from his peers, calling him weak and fearful of a real fight.
''Do ask Student Kuji'janah'' replied the instructor, appreciating the polite tone the young male used.
''If I understand correctly, we are not to engage in any hunt while on the planet surface, right ?'' Yuta'nektil approved by clicking his mandible. ''But what if we are attacked ? Are we to defend ourselves or flee ?'' Protests arose from the group at the idea of having to run away from a prey.
''You won't even need to run Kuji'janah, you're always so damn far from us you aren't even in harms way !'' snorted Basj'shank, the tallest and most muscular of the four Young Bloods. He was the total opposite of the sniper, loving close combat with a passion.
''At least I can run, you big cretin !'' retorted the light male before he dodged a punch aimed at his jaw. ''See ? You're slow !''
''Shut up both of you !'' intervened Yuta'nektil before the insults turned into an all-out battle, his strong voice once again bringing an end to the bickering. They need to get out of this ship to spend some of that energy before they really jump at each others throats ! he thought, feeling the tension between the members of his group.
''Now, to answer your question Student Kuji'janah: if an Ooman engage you in battle it is your duty to end his life - that is one of the laws we live by, but you are not to open the hostilities first ! You can track, you can observe but aggression toward them is strictly prohibited. I will not tolerate any fuck ups on your behalves and if any of you disobey I will personally make sure your skull end up on my wall, is that clear ?''
The young hunters reluctantly agreed – they got to go to one of the most prized hunting ground and they wouldn't even be able to kill something ? Disappointment was thick in the air and the instructor could sense it, worried that their desire to hunt would bypass any threats he'd made and cause them to do something incredibly stupid. Time to disappoint them even further.
''As an added safety measure your energy weapons will be deactivated remotely. I am in control of them and will be the only one to grant permission to fire.'' The students growled in annoyance. ''Your wristblades, naginata and combi-sticks are still in your control as well as Kuji'janah's spear launcher but that doesn't mean you get to use them. Have I made myself clear ?''
Before they could answer, a mechanical voice echoed through the ship. ''Entering the planet atmosphere in one height.'' the automatic pilot announced. ''All passengers to set foot on the surface are to prepare immediately.''
With sighs of relief the hunters made their way to their quarters, quickly putting on whatever gear they brought with them. They were all in possession of highly advanced masks with built in neuro-sensitive lenses capable of modifying the visual spectrums in which the user could see. Different analysis systems, air purifying filters, real-time map displays and weapon status scanners completed it, making an intricate and valuable piece of hardware. They were all different in appearance, modified to fit the wearer taste or represent a particular clan style.
The younglings also wore a pair of bracers, hiding retractable blades on one arm and housing the control unit for their personal cloaking systems on the other. Some integrated samples analyzer for organic compound that would cause the mask hud to highlight anything with matching elements, perfect to track down a lost prey. The bracers also served a more sinister role; in the event that a hunter failed in his hunt or was facing capture by another race, a series of codes were entered and would send the plasma weapons anti-matter power supply into a critical failure, causing a thermonuclear explosion that would take out both the ashamed Yautja and his technology, assuring no traces were left behind. If this power supply was absent or damaged, a signal was sent to a ''clean-up'' warrior who traveled to the planet and destroyed anything related to his specie.
An electric heating net jumpsuit was connected to the cloaking systems, providing conduits for the electromagnetic current that wrapped the light around the hunter to ensure integral and precise invisibility in a matter of seconds. The nets strong and flexible material had designated them as the standard clothing worn on board the ships by the males, combined with a simple loin cloth to cover their privates. The numerous armored plates that composed the hunter armor were also attached to it.
This was all very standard equipment devoid of any additional functions. As they got older and more experienced the younglings were going to amass earnings and develop contacts allowing them to purchase upgrades and new materials that would give them an edge against more diverse species of prey. Certain clan however enforced the use of specific weapons or technology, some preferring to hunt without cloaking field or energy powered equipment.
The small group hadn't been outside the ship for a long time and was eager to have solid ground beneath their feet. They all rushed to the deck in a concert of heavy footsteps and metallic clicking, excitement thick around them.
****
Ara'ni-Sila was absorbed in her notes when the automatic pilot message echoed in her lab. The tall, perfectly muscled female blinked a couple of times to readjust her sight, having stared too long at the red holographic image produced by her portable console. Setting it aside she cracked her joints and yawned, getting on her feet to grab her sampling kit, bracers and medicomp. Tapping the console on the side of the bracers, they automatically adjusted to her wrist size to a tight fit while she strapped the rest to her belts.
During the weeks she'd passed in the confine of her lab the female had adjusted the internal atmosphere of this part of the vessel so it replicated the condition present on the Oomans home world, her scientific mind eager to experience the effect on her body. While harsh at first, her lungs seemed to adapt to the methane and nitrogen poor air, removing her need to wear her mask when she would set foot on the planet. Because of this the hermetic doors leading to the labs were sealed automatically to prevent a full contamination of the ship air supply. A side effect of this was to keep the over-stimulated males from disturbing her, and that made her very happy.
Like most Yautja females she had a very bad temper when it came to males, spending her whole childhood with her mother and surrounded by members of her sex. Her clan only birthed females and was deeply respected for that – males of great lineage would've killed to mate with them, collecting prestigious trophies as offerings for the right to even gaze upon them. The only problem was that the Sila clan only reproduced to replace its dead, and that could take a very long time.
Since motherhood wasn't important to them they would spend this time studying and training their minds and body. Most of the clan held high position in society as advisors, researchers, strategist for military campaign or Grand Mothers, direct consultant to the queen herself. Others patrolled the borders of the clan territory back on the home planet, keeping each and every intruders at bay with a ruthless efficiency.
Ara'ni despised every males she had encountered, finding them primitive and short sighted, easily fighting each other over unimportant matters. She saw them as drooling idiots who weren't worthy of the species they recklessly hunted for sport, not even trying to understand their society or motivations. She could respect the amount of effort they put in training to better themselves but the way they acted when they smelled her odor completely overridden this. Females turned on by the skulls they brought back didn't held a big place in her heart either.
The door silently opened as she walked to it, her eyes once again locked on her holographic tablet. Profoundly curious about foreign worlds she'd agreed to the trip when it was offered to her, despite the short notice and the overwhelming presence of five males onboard. She didn't really understood what samples from the planet surface would tell the scientist back on her planet, but the opportunity to visit ''Earth'' was too good to pass.
Despite everything she'd heard about the Oomans, she found the destructive race highly interesting. The Yautjan database had very little info concerning them, but she'd read them over and over, memorizing the info and planning a list of things she would study while she was on the planet.
Apparently they once were a thriving, ever evolving society centered on riches and personal gain. Clans only consisted of a few individuals with familial bonds, breaking up when the offspring's were old enough to fend off on their own. Wars were constant and fought over fuel, religious differences or territorial dominance, eventually making them unleash new weapons too powerful that drove them to the brink of extinction. The planet atmosphere was greatly thinned, causing a major climate change that turned the lush planet to an arid desert.
Following this the data was scarce and random, mostly hunting trips reports poorly describing anything valuable to the Sister. She slowly made her way to the transitional section between the labs and the rest of the scientific vessel, reluctantly returning the atmosphere to normal and unlocking the airtight door. She could already smell the musk of the young males and it made her sick, regretting her decision to go unmasked.
I should've built an odor repellent for it, that way I wouldn't have to worry about puking my guts. It's already bad enough they're going to be eying me like piece of meat. She tried to hold her breath before reaching the bridge, the unpleasant smell growing in thickness to a point where she could taste it, but to no avail – it was in her nose and wasn't about to disappear. I'll have to wash myself three times to get rid of it. This is unbearable ! With a last sigh she walked onto the deck, flaring her mandibles to clearly state her displeased mood.
Near the hull doors, next to the hunters hall, the six males were checking and adjusting weapons and armors. Ara'ni-sila frowned and the view.
Their leader was dressed in a combination of armor, bones and metallic fibers clothing. Standing at roughly seven feet with perfectly toned muscles, his bronze skin made him nearly invisible against the walls of the ship, dark spots even simulating the shadows. Apparently he wasn't bringing any energy armament, has he didn't pack a mobile generator on his back.
A big, smelly and freakishly huge Yautja was looking at her with interest, his head cocked on one side. He towered over the other both in height and size, his naked upper body sporting bulging pecks and enormous arms. From the waist down heavy pieces of corroded armor covered entirely his leathery brown and beige skin, except for his jet black talons protruding from his toes.
His exact opposite stood a little behind, inserting forked spear tips into his launcher. His mask had a built-in three lenses scope over the right visor, providing faster and clearer image enhancing capabilities. He was small and light, looking like a twig next to his partners, teal skin making him stand out from the others even more.
Next to him, fiddling with his wrist computer, the smallest of the group pretended to not see her. His dark Kainde Amedha armor softly shone in the dim light, contrasting sharply against his green flesh. A large chitinous scythe was strapped to his back, apparently made out of a creature barbed tail. Noticing his feeble attempt to hide his interest failed, he quickly cloaked and vanished from view.
The only one who really didn't seem to care about her presence was an ordinary looking, simply equipped male standing next to his master in silence. Nothing particular could be said about him, other than he enforced the stereotypical way a Yautjan hunter was viewed. His only uncommon trait was ash gray skin, and even that didn't make him interesting.
With a deep hiss Yuta'nektil requested total silence from the group. ''Idiots and morons, this is Sister Ara'ni-sila. You will be making sure she is safe while she do whatever she needs to do, got it ?''
The males all mumbled incoherently in response while avidly looking at her, making her blood boil. In an instant she was upon them. She began with the big one, crushing his mask against his face with a wheel kick that send him backward before knocking the air out of his lungs with an uppercut to the solar plexus. She then grabbed the light one throat and lifted him of the ground, punching him several times in the stomach, making him gag and cough for air. She released him by throwing him to the floor with all her might. Spotting the shimmer of the cloaked male she brought him down with a simple but effective technique: a kick to the groin. Yelling in pain he fell to his invisible knees, cupping his hurt privates.
With a backward flip she distanced herself from them and assumed her previous position, coughing from the male musk smell. She'd left the arbitrator and the grey hunter alone - both of them hadn't done anything to piss her off.
''THEY are supposed to keep me safe ?'' she laughed with disdain, ''You males are only good to wipe the floor beneath my feet. I am ashamed our society count you as members.''
''Sister Ara'ni-sila I know this isn't to your taste but you will have to tolerate myself and those idiots for the duration of this trip." The arbitrator gestured to his downed students who were rubbing their injuries or still holding their crushed balls. "I you would just…''
''For your sake I suggest you shut your mouth right now !" The female mandibles were widely spread, signifying complete rage. "When we get out of this ship I better not see, ear or smell any of you. You will leave me alone or I swear none of you will walk again. Or reproduce…" She flicked her right wrist, producing two glistening and serrated blade from her gauntlet. "Got that ?'' she mimicked the tone the arbitrator used moments before.
A sudden rumble of the ship confirmed the landing had took place. ''All exiting personnel are to stand back from the doors'' mechanically warned the auto-pilot before the said doors opened with a loud hydraulic hiss, letting a bright yellow light penetrate the deck. The dry heat from the planet surface washed over the Yautjas as they stared outside. A sudden gust of wind brought sand and dust into the vessel, chasing away the nitrogen fog from the floor.
Excitement filled the female, quickly pressing a few button on her wrist computer so the invisibility cloak would drape over her before running out of the ship, ignoring the arbitrator who tried to stop her. The hot sun warmed her yellow skin comfortably as she ran, her feet barely making a sound on the sand-covered ground.
After she ran enough so the ship wasn't in view anymore she slowed down, reducing her furious pace to a lazy jog.
All around her ruins of tall buildings stood ominously over her, silent monoliths of a devastated race. Ara'ni-sila took a deep breath, savoring the fresh, non-recycled air that filled her lungs. Hidden behind her cloaking field she strode down a blasted street, her fingers taping vigorously on her tablet while she wrote her observations.
The dry heat and eerie silence was different from what she found on her home world – she was used to damp marshes filled with insects and animals sounds. The silence was oppressing, engulfing you in loneliness and making you look behind your back at every sound. Ara'ni-sila had visited a large number of worlds, but nothing came close to what she was experiencing right now, and she loved it.
Heap of rusted metal could be found all around the streets, once fast modes of transportation the humans had called ''cars''. They'd used hardened roads to move between settlements, some of those extending to great distances and crossing entire continents. Ara'ni kneeled, wiping the sand to uncover the dark, cracked substance they dubbed ''asphalt'', the word difficult to pronounce with her lipless mouth. She clawed it and grabbed a chunk, dropping it in her bag for analysis back on the ship.
Curious, she entered one of the tall construction, poking her head through the doorway to make sure the way was clear. Broken furniture's had been tossed around by vandals and never picked up, creating a chaotic mess that extended to the whole ground floor. She picked random bits of rubbles and put them with the asphalt chunk. Noticing a way to the upper floors, she calmly walked there.
The old wooden stairs creaked dangerously as she cautiously made her way up, amazed at how ingenious the building was built. Despite everything she expected, the female found what she saw more interesting than anything observed on the other worlds she visited.
The Oomans uses of basic materials was brilliant, using rocks and bonding agents in such a way they could erect impressive structures that withstood the test of time and the elements. Had they been more civilized to one another, their empire could've been a force to be reckoned with, but their desire for power and individualistic society instead drove them to the dark depth of near extinction.
Ara'ni-sila expected to find some traces of life in the building, turning every corner with the silent hope to come face to face with an Ooman, even if she was well aware she'd probably completely freak the humanoid out. She arrived in a vast, empty room with large broken windows that offered a clear view of the north ruins. Placing her datapad before her, she snapped a holographic picture for herself, intending to keep it as a souvenir.
A loud thump alerted her senses, her fist clenching and triggering her wristblades, the weapon breaking the cloak area of effect. Before she could turn around something knocked her to the ground, pinning her face down with its heavy weight. The blow disabled her invisibility field, sending blue sparks across her body. A foul smell overwhelmed her with a disgusting familiarity, easily identifying it as a male musk. Struggling to get free, sharp pain erupted from her wrists has cold metallic objects were driven through them. She roared as the same happened to each of her ankles joints, effectively preventing her to move or to get up.
From the corner of her eye she saw a grey foot, automatically recognizing the color.
''You better hope I don't get up !'' she hissed with rage, the pain in her joints fueling it. ''I'll make you bleed and scream until you beg me finish you off.''
Juka'fero laughed, kicking the female in the ribs to shut her up. ''If there's someone who's going to beg, it's you. You have no idea what you're in for. We'll be all alone for a long time. After all, Instructor Yuta'nektil did ask me to watch over you.''
The female shivered as she felt his hand on her, stroking her skin with lust. With horror she realized what he had in mind. ''If you even dare, I'll chop your balls off with my claws and make you eat them ! My clan will hunt yours down and remove it from existence ! You will yell..'' Another kick knocked the wind out of her, causing her to gag and cough as the taste of her blood filled her mouth. Trying to ignore the pain she desperately pulled to set herself free, the spikes in her joints only tearing more flesh.
Grabbing a handful of her dreads he yanked her ears to his mouth. ''You can struggle all you want, you're mine until I'm done with you. Go ahead, scream and squeal ! The rest of those idiots are far away, I made sure of it !'' He began unbuckling his armor, letting it fall to the ground as he gazed upon the lightly clothed female. The simple tabard she wore hid practically nothing of her curves and her scent was so overpowering it drove him mad. He couldn't help himself as he drooled in excitement.
He was so absorbed by his lust he didn't notice the human sneak his way into the room. Hiding in a patch of shadows, Tox didn't understand what he was seeing, wondering what the two beings were. He had been drawn to the place when he'd heard the roars from outside. Despite the animalistic tonality, he thought he noticed pain in one of them and that decided him to check it out.
Noticing one of them beginning to undress himself while the other was quite literally pinned to the floor, that woke a profound, forgotten fury that brought horrible and painful memory rushing to the surface of his mind. Not thinking anymore and acting purely as his instincts told him to, he grabbed his hunting knife and moved completely out of cover, shaking as adrenaline flowed through his veins. ''Hey asshole !'' he yelled at the grey humanoid.
Startled, Juka'fero turned around. Before him stood a small, hooded being with a mask on his face and a piece of metal in his hand. He knew Oomans still roamed the ruins, but never thought one would even try to attack him, let alone warn him before doing so. Annoyed that he was going to be delayed with his plan, he extended his wristblades and pointed them toward the puny thing. ''You're specie's is even dumber than I thought ! What do you think you're going to do, kill me ?'' he roared in his native language, hoping to scare the Ooman away so he could attend to his business with the female. ''Don't worry bitch, this won't take long.'' he said to Ara'ni-sila as he assumed his fighting stance.
The Yautja quickly launched himself at his adversary, swinging his blades directly to the human face. They ripped two deep gashes into his mask, red blood dripping from them, but failed to decapitate him as he intended. A strong punch followed, shattering the two tinted lenses and sending Tox to the ground. Juka'fero, already savoring his victory, walked to him, his fist clenched to deliver the killing blow.
''You're worthless ! Your head is not even worth the effort of making a trophy out of it !'' he snorted before lashing at the human on the floor. His laugh died in his throat when Tox quickly dodged the attack, stabbing his own knife between two ribs of the male, effectively piercing a lung and damaging the diaphragm. Juka'fero lost his breath, using his left hand to cover the wound. Using this opportunity, the human slid away from him and got up, wiping the blood from his mask. ''You'll pay for this !'' coughed the Yautja, launching himself again at the Ooman.
The wristblades would have sliced him in two if he hadn't deflected them with his left gauntlet, leaving two deep gashes into the armor. Tox counterattacked, unleashing a few quick slashes that made contact with Juka'fero armor, pissing him off even further. He tried to uppercut the male, only injuring his hand on the metal of the mask.
A strong direct punch to Tox ribs caused him to bend over, coughing blood in his mask and ruining his filter. As he struggled to breath the Yautja grabbed him by the throat and threw him at the wall where he crashed. Dazed he shook his head, jumping out of the way before Juka'fero crushed him under his foot. He slowly got up, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps and wincing when his broken ribs moved. Tox backed away, trying to figure out a way to get a clear shot at the soft flesh between and underneath the armor.
''Did you really think, you stood a chance against me ?'' coughed Juka'fero. ''You are prey, nothing more. Defying me was the last mistake you'll ever made.'' He once again charged, wristblades glistening with red blood.
Tox ducked under the blades before stabbing his knife deeply into the Yautja elbow, severing several layers of muscles and nerves and twistes the blade to dislocate the two bones, rendering the limb useless. The male roared in pain as his forearm went limp, luminescent green blood gushing out of the wound. He tried to fend off the attacking human with his valid arm only to receive another gash across his shoulder.
Tox, wanting to completely immobilize the huge being, kicked it in the ribs were he'd stabbed him, causing Juka'fero to reach again for his wound. Using this opening, he got behind him and slashed the Yautja behind each of his knees, the sharp knife making short work of the flesh. The scavenger brought him down with a well placed kick that bent the right leg outward, making him fall painfully on his back.
Blood rapidly pooled around the downed Yautja, who couldn't get up, each movement sending crushing waves of intense pain through his whole body. Satisfied he wouldn't bother anymore, Tox limped his way to the female, wiping his dented blade before sheathing it back while holding his broken ribs.
Long metallic spikes had been driven through her ankles and wrists to maintain her to the floor. She seemed to lose a lot of blood but she kept struggling while emitting loud roars of pain, turning her head from left to right in an effort to see what was going on behind her. Dragging his broken body so he was in front of her, he kneeled before her. He didn't know if the creature would understand him but he had to try – he just hoped she wouldn't jump on him when he broke her free. After all, her face wasn't even remotely human.
''I'm a friend'' he stated while designating himself with his free hand. ''I just want to help you.'' He mimed the act of pulling out a spike. Coughing a blood clot he spit after removing his badly damaged mask, he continued. ''Stay calm and try not to move.'' He looked into her eyes and was satisfied to see she seemed to calm down a little. Firmly grabbing the spike stuck in her right wrist and trying to ignore the silent cries of his ribs, he yanked with all his remaining might.
Caught in his own momentum he fell backward when the metal rod was released from the floor, landing heavily in an ocean of suffering. The pinned creature yelled too, her green blood now gushing freely from the wound. Tox tried to get up but the pain kept him on his back, his own body now a dead weight pressing against his chest. Between his feet he saw Ara'ni use her now free hand to pull the other spike out, her long dreads drenched in her blood as she howled and growled in pain.
She sorely got on her knees, taking a deep breath before yanking the last two restraints. Not wasting time she unhooked her medicomp from her belt, fumbling through it until she found a coagulating agent syringe she plunged deep into her abdomen. The pain was excruciating but beneficial – the compound was designed to stimulate the bone marrow to produce large quantities of blood platelet to accelerate coagulation and the formation of scabs in deep injuries.
Dragging herself on the floor she grabbed her holographic tablet, tapping with shaking claws different symbols on the screen. It rapidly started flashing, emitting a low beeping noise as a distress signal was sent to all nearby hunters.
''You're so dead you piece of shit !'' she growled to the heavily injured male, harboring enough strength to kick him the balls. Satisfied she turned her attention to the human, who was coughing up more blood as he laid on his back, both hands gripping his injured side in an effort to prevent his ribs from moving as he struggled to breathe.
And who the hell are you ?