Chapter 2
A different kind of hunt
Ak'shara walked down the poorly lit hallway. His metal sandals noisily clacking along the floor as he strode to the Elder's quarters. He kept his ugly face in plain view and simply cradled his mask in his left arm.
He noticed that the guards visibly tensed when they saw him, which brought him a small amount of amusement. To think that a human could see the elder in private was beyond them. On either side of him stood his two best friends and hunting partners for life.
On his right stood one of the largest Yautja ever to be born, Ta'veta. The large Yautja was easily a full head taller than Ak'shara and despite having human blood; Ak'shara was not a short hunter. (He's 7'2)Ta'veta and he had met during Ak'shara's training; both had been picked on by the other unblooded. Ak'shara for having an ugly face and human blood, Ta'veta for being so large he'd probably be heard before he even got close to his prey. The two had formed a bond of friendship that had been sealed through the hardships they'd faced.
To his left stood one of the smartest Yautja ever to be born, L'hiem. L'hiem was only an inch or so taller than Ak'shara, a fact that L'hiem constantly pointed out. L'hiem had met Ak'shara on their blooding ritual; L'hiem had trained many times with a burner before and was one of the best shots. During the blooding ritual Ak'shara's burner had short circuited, leaving him at a large disadvantage. L'hiem however stepped in and fixed it for him, in return Ak'shara allowed him to have the first kill. The two grew closer, especially when L'hiem found out that the other unblooded had sabotaged Ak'shara's equipment so that he would die.
But between the three of them, Ak'shara seemed to possess the most authority. His very visage seemed to demand respect from everyone he met. He had a broad chest and powerful muscles, yet he was slightly slimmer than an average Yautja. Still, by human standards the hunter was a giant.
His hair had been braided into dreadlocks, his skin bared the same tone as the other Yaujta and his eyes were golden and reptilian. Across his face, two scars stretched from his right eye brow and reached to he left of his lower jaw, cutting across his nose. He had received it during his blooding ritual, but not from the serpents.
One of his comrades, a foolish and large unblooded could not take being near him anymore. After Ak'shara had killed a Serpent and taken off his mask to blood himself, the unblooded swung at him with his wrist blades. Ak'shara had barely moved back quick enough; the twin blades had cut bloody marks across his face.
Ak'shara had impaled him with his glaive. Then, with L'hiem and Ta'veta as his witnesses, he claimed the foolish unblooded's skull as a trophy. It was one of his first, along with his first serpent skull. From that point on in his life, he vowed to become an elder and make it so that no hunter, elite or unblooded, would dare attack him again.
"You are expected, "said one of the guards.
"I know," he replied in a deep voice.
The guards looked visibly shaken as he glared at him with his murderous eyes. Ta'veta looked amused by their nervous shifting.
The large door opened for them and the trio walked in.
They walked down a large room; a single light was the source of illumination for the room. Along the sides, Serpent skulls hung across the wall, under each was an ooman skull. The elder so did love flaunting his trophies for all to see. At the other side of the room sat the Elder himself in his command chair. Each armrest was the skull of a serpent, the elder himself was a sight to behold. He was large and broad of shoulder. On his pauldrons was an ooman skull. Ak'shara snorted at having such a ridiculous ornament on one's armor.
But an elder was an elder, no matter how strange his attire might be, they demanded respect. Especially this one, above his command chair rested the elder's crowned jewel. A serpent queen's skull. It was a trophy most hunters, or even elders could only dream of possessing.
'I will possess one someday,' he thought to himself.
"Elder," they spoke together, kneeling down in respect, making sure to keep their gaze to the ground.
"Welcome my brethren, my elite hunters," boomed the Elder as he strode off his throne. The trio kept their eyes down.
"State your names," he said, stumbling slightly from side to side.
"Ak'shara."
"Ta'veta"
"La'hiem"
"Ak'shara?"Asked the elder, he walked awkwardly right in front of Ak'shara."Please, stand warrior."
Ak'shara obeyed and stood. Getting his first good look at the elder. One of his mandibles was missing, he had multiple scars around his face and his dreadlocks had turned to a vibrant blue. The most noticeable feature however, was the Elder's eyes.
They were pure white.
"Come closer, and let me see you." commanded the elder.
Ak'shara obeyed and leaned forward. The elder reached up with his claws and gently touched Ak'shara's face. Gently padding around his features, as if taking in information with his touch.
"Hmmmmm, they say you are ugly, and they are right. No mandibles, skin too soft, and a strange protrusion in the middle of your face," summed up the elder.
Ak'shara heard his comrades softly chuckle at the elders words.
"It is a shame. You will not have much luck with the females. Your children would have become magnificent hunters, if the stories about you are true."
"I used to measure a hunter's skill by observation. Now I can no longer do that," he said solemnly, gesturing to his eyes.
He swung around and walked back up to his throne.
"I still remember that day. My last hunt. I tried to fight another queen, I won. But the Serpent Queen is a devious prey, in a last act of defiance; she threw herself off a cliff and sprayed her blood into my eyes. How humiliating. Do I still have your respect, warriors?"
"Yes, Elder," they said together.
"That is good to know," he said."Tell me Ak'shara, you have proven yourself a capable warrior. What is your purpose?"
"Elder?"
"What do you strive for, I see in you a determination I have not seen for a long time."
"I strive...for recognition."
"And you shall have it. Some call you a badblood. But I know you are no badblood." Said the elder,
He grabbed a small disk like device then pressed a switch.
"Watch,"
A hologram flickered to life on the device. A large Yautja fought against other hunters. The Yautja moved with incredible speed, his glaive a whirl of motion as the spun around as sliced a hunter's throat, then stabbed another behind him using the back blade. The elder froze the image with the Yautja roaring in victory over the bloody corpses.
"This is a true badblood, one that would tarnish our laws and the hunt. He must be brought to justice," the elder commanded, bring a fist down on his chair."You will hunt him down and kill him."
"May I know the name of my prey elder?" Asked Ak'shara.
"He was once a mighty hunter. He was called B'sak. He had many trophies. But hunting serpents and ooman was not enough, he believed hunting his own was the greatest hunt. He became a hunter of badbloods but for some reason became insane. Now he is one."
"We swear we will bring him down," promised Ak'shara.
"Then you may leave, go and bring justice," commanded the elder. Ak'shara bowed then spun around, his companions in tow.
As soon as they exited the room and walked a few paces, Ta'veta spoke.
"A badblood, I've always wanted to hunt one."
"I thought you'd always wanted to hunt a queen," pointed out La'hiem.
"I can wish for multiple things."
"You ask for too much."
"Quiet, both of you," commanded Ak'shara. Both of them immediately stopped their banter. Despite both of them being full blooded Yautja and larger than him, they followed his command without question. If it hadn't been for his orders, neither of them would have survived their blooding ritual.
"This is serious," he stated," we'll need to be well prepared. The ooman world was dangerous before, now it is filled with serpents."
"We've fought serpents before," pointed out La'hiem.
"Perhaps, but not an entire world of them."
"He has a point," commented Ta'veta.
"We have one hour to prepare," said Ak'shara, "report to the ship when you are done."
"Heavy or light?"Asked Ta'veta.
"We are hunting one of our own and will most likely not be back for many days, in addition there are oomans and serpents to deal with. Heavy."
"How do you know there are still Ooman's on the planet?"Asked La'hiem.
"I just do."
"Do not be blinded just because they are your kind," advised La'hiem.
"They are not my kind; you know that," spat Ak'shara.
"Well, not totally," said La'hiem as he walked off. Ta'veta made a quick nod then walked off to his room.
Ak'shara sighed and strode off to his quarters.
His room was fairly big in size, enough so that if he wanted, he could jump around. On the right wall coming in, was his trophy rack. All of them had been hard earned kills. A dozen ooman skulls lined both sides. One he was particularly fond of was one on the right with its lower jaw missing. It had been from an ooman that had led a band of others and fought against other oomans. He had observed the ooman fighting another band of oomans wearing blue clothing. The ooman had been fairly successful in his hunts. That is until Ak'shara ripped off his skull.
On the inner sides of the trophy wall were his serpent trophies. About a dozen of them. In the middle was his prized trophy. The skull of the unblooded that had dared to attack him.
He'd remembered impaling the fool with his glaive, then slicing open his throat and ripping out his skull by the spine, such a nice memory.
He dismissed the thought; he should be doing something useful, instead of daydreaming like a pup. He walked past the metal slab that was his bed and towards the wall opposite to his trophy rack.
There he stood in front of his weapon rack.
(He has a lot of racks...that sounded wrong.)
He observed the wide selection of weapons, and then began to take his favorites.
His personally customized glaive, a staff like weapon with large razor sharp blades on both ends, made of a near unbreakable black alloy. His shuriken, a deadly disks with multiple curved blades. Thrown for powerful cutting power.
His burner, his most powerful weapon, accurate and deadly.
His wrist blades, one for each arm, both 6 inch long, jagged blades of death.
After selecting his weapons he walked to his mask rack.
He replaced the one he had worn to meet the elder in its appropriate spot. It was a silver mask with an intricate design reminiscent of the old ones. It was a bit too flashy for his taste. (Ancient Mask) He selected his favorite mask, a terrifying design. (Celtic) The mask had three scars across it; he had received them from hunting serpents.
He personally though they added to the already menacing visage. He placed it onto his face and let it comfortably rest on his face.
He then went about putting on his armor, covering the right side of his chest, his shoulders and shins.
He did a quick maintenance check on all of his equipment, and then headed out.
As he walked out, Ta'veta walked out of his own room. He wore a mask that resembled the face of a serpent. (Serpent hunter) In his right hand he carried his most prized possession, his war hammer. A large staff with a large hammer head on the end, it was even taller than Ta'veta. The rod was purely metal; the hammerhead had been carved to resemble the skull of a large lizard like creature native to their home world. (Think T-rex)
They gave each other a quick nod, and then walked off towards the ship. As they walked, La'hiem walked out of his room. He wore a standard mask (jungle hunter) and carried his own custom burners. He wore two, both slightly bigger than standard burners that Ak'shara and Ta'veta wore.
He gave a quick nod, and then joined them as they walked towards the ship.
Ak'shara could feel the tension in the air as his comrades gave off a powerful musk. He smiled at their eagerness.
The hunt would soon begin.
Welcome to Washington D.C, or whats left of it.
Nevada was one of the states to be hit, not by nukes, but a missile barrage. Leaving the once proud city in an utter state of disrepair. Most buildings were still standing, but there were plenty that had pieces blown off and turned into rubble. Though plenty of places had been turned into barren wastelands that were completely devoid of all life.
Yet, even through all this, people lived on. Many people became raiders, preying on the weak and banding together. Some people had even started up settlements; one that was particularly successful was called Willardton, on account that it was more or less built around the Willard Hotel. Most people however, wandered around aimlessly, just trying to survive and not get eaten by the bugs.
But even in post apocolyptia, people have trouble doing business.
This was such a case with Anna.
"Three barrels of gas," said the redneck American.
"I asked for five," Anna replied stubbornly.
"And I'm telling you I'm offering three," said the man, spitting on the ground.
Anna sighed; she was never good at bargaining with people. Even less so with Americans. Ever since human government had all but crumbled into oblivion, Anna had become a mercenary. She hired herself out to anyone that could pay. By pay, she meant give her things to use. Who needed money these days?
"Look lady, just cause you got big guns on that car of yours, don't think that means you're the only person I can hire," said the big man."There are plenty of other people out there who would kill their friends for three barrels of gas. So I suggest you take it."
"Fuck you American!" She shouted, she was sick and tired of him.
The man glared at her, then spit on the ground.
"I suggest you take that back right now missy, otherwise I'm gonna get real unpleasant with ya."
"You already are," she shot back.
The man pulled back his hand and tried to back hand her. It was almost laughable; she grabbed the man by his outstretched wrist, catching him off guard. She twisted his arm around to an uncomfortable position, then kicked leg from under him, causing him to fall face first into the ground.
"5 barrels," she said, kneeling down by the fat man, "take it or leave it."
"Alright! Fine! You win!" He screeched through the pain.
He attempted to stand up, pitifully rolling on his fat back. Anna snorted in amusement then walked off to inform her comrades that she had successfully gotten the job.
She walked past the makeshift convoy. The fat man, Luther, was a trader. He brought things from one settlement to another, trading things back and forth. In addition, he provided transportation for those who could afford it.
The convoy consisted of a bright yellow school bus, a purple van, and a red Toyota. Modified with barbed wire covering the outside, as well as metal spikes. It also had metal bars covering the windows, a smart move to keep bugs out.
The van had been modified with layers of sheet metal welded onto the car for extra protection.
The Toyota had been given a similar treatment. At the very back of the convoy sat her ride, an American Stryker. She had taken it after the entire world decided to commit nuclear suicide. Leaning on the Stryker was one of her partners, an oriental man they called Yinyang. They called him that because no one could pronounce his Chinese name correctly. He was slightly taller than she was, (she's 5'9) and around his thirties. His sideburns had began to slightly grey, he had a serious face and a near buzz cut to match it. He wore a dress shirt with a black jacket on top and a pair of cargo pants.
He was a rather secluded member of the group, usually hanging by himself. He never said much but when he did, it was usually something useful.
"We get job?"He asked when he noticed she was approaching. She nodded.
"That is good, we low on gas." he said in his heavy accent.
"Don't worry; I got us five barrels of gas. That'll keep us for another five weeks."
He nodded approvingly. He followed her to the back of the Stryker. There she saw her other companion, Bear.
"You got the job?"He asked, looking up from his cigarette. She nodded.
"Good, I thought I might have to go over there and take care of negotiations myself."
"I have plenty of negotiation skills thank you," she replied.
"Yes, that was good negotiating when you broke that mans arm last week."
"He was asking for it."
"You over reacted, you could have simply said no."
Anna was about to respond when suddenly a projectile flew from the top of the Stryker, she jumped out of the way just in time to miss getting hit by a flying wrench.
"Sorry!" shouted a voice from on top the vehicle.
A small girl with a red base ball cap and shoulder length brown hair popped her head into view.
"Is everyone okay down there?"
"Trip! What have I told you about throwing tools?"Asked Anna scoldingly.
"Uh...Don't?"
"Exactly, so why did you throw the tool just now?"
"It slipped! Honest!"
Anna sighed. Trip was the team's 16 year old mechanic. They had found her and her father in an old chop shop while they were looking around for spare parts. The bugs attacked and well, Trip ended up with them. She was a whiz when it came to cars but she was a little bit awkward when it came to handling people.
"Just get down here; we're leaving in a few minutes," commanded Bear.
"O-okay, just give me a sec," she said, she gracefully jumped down from the top of the Stryker."I-I fixed the turret like you asked me to Anna."
"Good girl," she said, giving her a small pat on the head.
"C-can I drive?"Asked Trip, putting on her best toothy smile.
"No."
"P-please!"
"No."
"W-why not?"
"Because the last time I let you drive you crashed us into a building. On top of that it was filled with bugs."
"I-it was an accident! I-i swear! B-besides, Yinyang's been teaching me. I-i'll do better!"
Anna glared at Yinyang accusingly; he shrugged and walked into the Stryker.
"No, that's final."
"A-awww man!"Shouted Trip, stomping angrily into the car.
Anna sighed and stared into the blue sky. Suddenly a huge gust of wind blew across her face, she squinted as the sky seemed to shimmer and move. She rubbed her eyes, and took another look. Nothing.
"Damn heat must be screwing with me," she muttered.
