He carelessly placed his boot on the carcass of the xeno and jerked his combi stick from its belly. Acid blood dripped from the blade, sizzling as it touched the shallow, muddy water. He collapsed the weapon, tucked it away, and then grabbed the thick black tail of the xeno in his fist to drag it behind him. His muscles burned from the long, arduous hunt, but he did not stop or slow until he was near the large clan ship.
He laid the fresh body next to the first three he'd defeated, then began to dress all of his kills. Mar'cte carefully carved his dagger into the tough hide of the xeno's, then collected the usable parts and stored him in the ship. He had plenty xenomorph trophies already, so he would keep pieces to sell or make weapons from them. When he was finished disposing of the rest, his hunt brothers were just returning. He had wounds to tend to, but focused instead on the returning men.
The least experienced hunter in the group didn't return. Since Mar'cte was the oldest, and the first one finished, he took it upon himself to scout the area and retrieve the body if there was one. He didn't come across any other xenos while searching for the young straggler though, and he wondered if the boy was wondering around without prey to hunt. He'd counted the kills brought back to the ship though, and unless someone lost their prey over a cliff, there should have been one more xenomorph lurking out there somewhere.
Mar'cte detached the falcon camera from his left shoulder and watched it search the preserve from his wrist gauntlet. Even in such dense jungle foliage, it found the young hunter right away. He was limping from an injury, but alive. Ketcha spotted the hovering camera and pointed ahead of him, indicating that he was headed back to the ship, appearing to be empty-handed. Mar'cte urged the camera to continued on, in search of the rogue xeno or its remains.
The camera picked up signs of life where the eggs had been placed, but it wasn't a xeno. Twelve sacrifices had been placed on stone pedestals, each with a single xeno egg at their feet that would give birth to a facehugger. The camera clearly showed eleven oomans with gaping holes in their chests. However, the last oomans chest was rising and falling with every slow breath. If the chestburster hadn't exited the last ooman sacrifice, that was why they were missing one xeno.
She struggled to look around the jungle with heavy, taunt chains restricting her movements. Her heart was still pounding, and unspent adrenaline made her feel jittery. Mitanni had grown up knowing that she would become a sacrifice, so that mighty beings could hunt the perfect prey. Others had struggled, but she'd allowed a yautja to chain her down on the cold stone pedestal. She knew that an alien being would burst through her chest, but she had been ready for that pain, and ready to face death.
Instead, she had laid there listening to everyone else's pained and terrified screams. Warm blood splattered onto her skin from the other humans as the aliens broke free from their chest cavities. Mitanni waited for it to happen to her as well, but it never did. Shadows danced around her as the chestbursters rapidly grew into full-sized adults. She struggled to free herself when the hissing grew louder and one of their black tails whipped above her head.
The metal cuffs painfully dug into her wrists and ankles as she panicked, but instead of attacking her, they fled. She heard distant clicking from the yautjas and knew that the xenos were being hunted now. She waited for a yautja to stumble across her, but no one did. It was beginning to get dark, and Mitanni worried that she's be left all alone to starve until they arranged another hunt and found she was still alive. She called out to draw attention to herself until her throat was sore, before she resigned herself to just laying there and waiting.
The falcon camera returned and Mar'cte snatched it out of the air, then secured it to his back. He was not far from the area. As he marched toward his destination, he debated on the weapon he wanted to use. These oomans were raised by yautjas, but to his knowledge, they were not volunteers and would likely put up a fight. Some of his wounds were still bleeding, and he'd already killed four xenos, but his body was bristling at the possibility of adding an ooman trophy to his vast collection.
As he encroached on the circle of stone pedestals, he became cautious. The chestburster wasn't the complication, but the facehugger. The egg hadn't opened; it was a dud. He'd had a chestburster inside him once, and was not an experience he wished to repeat. Just in case, Mar'cte lifted his plasma castor and blew apart the egg.
As the gooey pieces scattered on the ooman, her back arched, almost in a convulsion. A whine escaped her as she tugged on the chains, but then her blue eyes landed on him and she instantly stilled. Mar'cte made sure to stand straight and puff out his chest some, aiming to intimidate the ooman. She stayed frozen in place as his wrist gauntlet scanned the locks and they opened.
She wasn't sure what to think yet-if he was her savior or her death. The yautja was over eight foot tall, making her assume that he was an older male. His skin was a very mottled brown with hints of yellow, but mostly covered in mud and open wounds at the moment. As soon as she was free, she slipped off the pedestal. Her knees felt weak from the lack of movement, but they held her weight.
The yautja grabbed his smartdisc from his side, and her eyes focused on how his clawed fingers tightened around the metal. Her heart sank, seeing that he hadn't come simply to free her. An airy clicking escaped the male, and the sound turned her blood into ice. She wanted to run, but knew it wouldn't do any good. When he stomped forward, she bent her head down in submission.
She had been raised to obey yautjas. If he wished her dead, then she would let it come. Mitanni held her breath as she felt the cold sharp blade of the smartdisc against the back of her neck. She was trembling, but refused to cry and seem weak in front of one of them.
He let out a low groan, as he could not kill her. She was unarmed and not aggressive. She would have to be returned to yautja who organized the group hunt. She'd be used as another sacrifice later on. He snapped his smartdisc back in its holster, and the ooman slowly lifted her head to peek at him behind her short, dirty blonde hair.
Mar'cte would not lay a hand on a female for any reason unless she'd invited him to mate, and he applied that honor code to alien species as well, "Ooman, come with me."
Once they started walking, Mitanni couldn't keep her eyes off him. Large, jagged gashes on his back oozed bright green blood, and he looked to have a deep bite mark from a xeno on his calf. She wondered how he still had the strength to walk, and at such a fast pace. She struggled to keep up with him.
He marched her right up to the ship, and the five other men gave him questionable glances. One broke the silence jokingly, "Have you found yourself a pet, Mar'cte? She is a cute little ooman I suppose."
As soon as she recognized the yautja with the striking orange color on his face and hands, she tucked herself behind the older male, hoping to somehow avoid him. His mother owned the facility where Mitanni was raised, among other oomans, and he worked there when he wasn't training or hunting. Mitanni didn't like him much, and wasn't thrilled with the idea of having to go back with him. He liked to take his anger out on all of the humans.
Honesty, Mar'cte would have rather carried her skull in his palm, but instead, she had followed him obediently and without questions. He didn't have a choice but to return her. He did not like having to explain himself though, "One of the xeno eggs didn't open, so she is yours to deal with." he glanced over, only to find that the ooman was no longer beside him.
He sidestepped with a dark growl, realizing that she was hiding behind him like a shy child. He stared down at her sternly, and she reluctantly walked forward. Mitanni glared at the male with the orange coloring, but he didn't seem to notice or care. The male was used to dealing with ooman slaves, and didn't have the patience to order them around. When she was close enough, he firmly snatched her arm and forced her into the ship.