Part I
Prologue
The yautja homeworld shone as an emerald jewel in the dark ocean of space. Twin blood-red suns bound the planet to its elliptical course. A pair of rocky moons, mirroring the greater cycle, orbited the verdant world, as did a third satellite, which gleamed with metallic perfection. Within the satellite's hollow mass, Mo'la'khai focused his attention on the screen. Fascinating creatures. For three cycles, the Jockey had been observing the planet's indigenous life-forms. Many exotic forms and colours inhabited the lush jungle world, but he was interested in only one species, the planet's only sentient inhabitants. The ramshackle settlements of these savage, cunning creatures lay scattered on the surface. They were primitive but possessed the seed of intelligence. This combination of physical prowess and sentient intelligence intrigued Mo'la'khai. Though of smaller stature, the hunters, which Mo'lo'khai dubbed "yautja," were pound for pound the most fearsome sentient life-forms in his database. But would it be enough?
The situation was grim. After four thousand years of war, his people lay scattered across the cosmic void. Zeta II Reticuli had fallen to the heretics. No, not to the heretics, but to their abominations. The heretics had abandoned tradition and common sense to pursue the grotesque twisting of life. The heretics' science was potent but their victory fleeting as their weapons turned against them. To escape the bloody aftermath, Mo'la'khai, guardian of the old ways, had fled aboard his personal craft into uncharted space. In his wanderings he had stumbled upon this verdant planet orbiting twin blood-red suns. Even in exile, he was compelled to study these creatures. At first, he had deployed stealth probes to gather visual data from the ground. Mo'la'khai had applied himself assiduously to studying his subjects' primitive patterns of behavior, the seed of culture. This was not enough and he soon took to abducting specimens in their sleep. Aboard the ship, the unconscious creatures received sensory implants that delivered live data to Mo'la'khai's console. The tranquilized yautja were then returned to their hovels, unaware that they served as his spies on the ground. The Jockey had conducted his studies in this fashion until all the males in the settlement had been implanted. Recently he'd been monitoring the progress of one particular individual, an alpha male who had rapidly ascended the tribal hierarchy. His species called him Bakuub or "Straight Spear" in their guttural speech. In this individual as in the species, he observed a ferocity matching that of the Black Death but sharpened by intelligence. Mo'la'khai knew that Bakuub would soon be venturing into the wilderness to hunt. It was would be a perfect time to run the preliminary tests.
Before escaping his ravaged planet, Mo'la'khai had loaded a stockpile of captured eggs into the vessel. His people had been racing against time to decipher the heretics' weapon, to uncover a weakness. Hope had faded fast, as they realized their enemies had unleashed a weapon that knew no master. Soon, however, Mo'la'khai might have a weapon to fight the Scourge, one that could save his people from extinction. On its surface lay the scattered settlements of these savage, cunning creatures. He pressed the button and sent a single pod streaking down to Paradise. After landing it would unload its deadly cargo and then disintegrate, setting Mo'la'khai's plan into motion.