Fearsome Shadows

Since the disappearance of the Engineers, many within the known galaxy have begun fighting for the position of top dog. Blood bathed the stars for a time until the rise of the deadly race known as the Yaut`ja. Only a few of the more advanced species were allowed to know of their existence as the Yaut`ja were a race of warriors and hunters whose game was not limited to animals alone. The races who knew of them were the ones spared from this practice most times due to the treaty established between them. To the lower ranked and 'weak', the Yaut`ja were merely spectres that picked off the warriors who proved to be worthy game.

While the Yaut`ja would never reach the level of the Engineers, they still acted as a balance to the universal food chain. Their warriors would seek out the worthiest of prey and test their skills in the field. Often times, it was the Yaut`ja who were victorious, the skulls of their opponents being the trophies and mementos of the battle. Those who survived and were able to defeat the Yaut`ja were considered great warriors. As well as future potential prey should the challenge arise for another ambitious hunter.

As time progressed, a lone Yaut`ja stumbled across a blacken world devoid of almost all life. Further investigation on the planet surface nearly costed him of his life. But what he presented to the elders of his race showed that there was worthy prey inhabiting the black world; a segmented tail with a spear tip and an elongated skull lacking in eyes with a secondary jaw inside the safety of it's exposed maw.

The Yaut`ja elders sent more scout ships to investigate this planet. The creatures they found there sparked a fire in their blood unlike any other. True, they had faced against many prey of a large variety, each with their own set of tactics. But these black creatures were something else. They presented endless challenges, a certain possibility of death. A hunt worth partaking in. Some of the older hunters practically begged for the chance of hunting these new foes.

The black world was studied closely by the Yaut`ja after it's discovery. Some of their warriors lost their lives trying to capture living subjects. Sometimes it was out of their stupidity and overwhelming desire to face off against these black serpents. The Yaut`ja took data on everything they could.

Acidic blood. Hard exoskeleton. A hive mind. A semblance of intelligence rarely seen in such an animal. An adaptiveness comparable to that the Yaut`ja possessed. These were almost the perfect prey.

It was almost time to hunt them. One of the ships took at least five to a barren planet and released the black serpents. A few hours later and the Yaut`ja party would try to hunt them. They were known being fearsome shadows by some of the younger races of which they have hunted. These new beasts would show them otherwise.

"Where did you find this place?" The blonde woman smiled as she walked further into the natural gazebo. "It's beautiful."

The black haired male smiled as he wrapped an arm around his partner's waist. The vines of the tall tree hung down a circular fashion, white buds hanging from the brown-green foliage. There was a small pond forming at the rim with small purple flowers sprouting here and there. The sunlight that peeked through reflected off the water and illuminated patches of grass and dirt within the natural gazebo.

A romantic location. Especially considering how far it was from prying eyes. Yet unbeknownst to the two below, there was indeed a pair of eyes watching them closely. And not for perverted reasons either. The hunter kept low, hiding within the very tree the vines hung down from. One hand held on to a branch for balance, another was holding a knife like object.

"Close your eyes, May," The black hair male said.

A smile quickly formed on the female as she did as she was told. The hunter shifted his stance in silence, knowing full well what was about to happen. The male human slowly pulled out a cutlery knife that was tucked away in his boot. As he raised it above his head, the hunter acted. A small silver projectile flew out from the cover of the tree, soon embedding itself into the human's wrist. The black haired male cried out in pain and dropped the knife. His female counterpart opened her eyes then and screamed.

The hunter watched as the blonde female took off, completely abandoning her companion. When she was out of the gazebo, he jumped down right behind the human male. He would make short work of this piece of shit before him. Never again will the honorless killer take another life.

Meanwhile, the blonde woman stumbled as she tried to distance herself from the gazebo and the man she thought loved her. But after seeing the knife and realizing how they were far from the public, it seems she was wrong. A tree root caught her foot, causing the woman to trip and fall. Pain shot up her leg at that moment, her ankle burning intensely. She tried to push the pain out of her thoughts. She needed to run. She needed to get away before-

Only silence met her ears. The woman was deathly afraid now. Where was that murderer she thought was her boyfriend? She turned around and searched frantically for movement. She didn't even hear him screaming anymore. The twisting feeling in her stomach warned her that something was wrong. That she should get away. But she remained on the ground, panting like a dog.

Something dropped down in front of her, the ground shaking at its impact. The blonde woman looked up to see a hulking mass crouching before her. The first thing her eyes were drawn to was the mask it donned. Although it was a dark silver in color with a trace of blue, bright red paint decorated it, almost like something out a Japanese legend. The tusks of some odd creature lined its crown, within the center rested a T-shaped symbol made up of three marks. Despite its seemingly emotionless design, the paints almost gave it a demonic yet heroic look. Thick, long, black dreads sprouted out from behind the mask, two on each side hanging down from his front, the rest tied back, reaching down to his hips.

Although hunched down and squatting, the hulking mass before her was huge. If the blonde woman had to guess, he'd easily dwarf her by three feet or so. Similar red paint of his mask decorated his body, even painting across the pieces of armor he wore. Underneath, his skin was yellowish tan color with specks of red and stripes of black. Everything about him screamed monster, demon in some cases. But there was that air of serenity around him. A sense of honor, duty, and compassion emanated from him.

The large creature raised a hand toward her. Claws and black cloth adorned it, she noticed. She flinched when she felt his hand rest atop her head. Though when he ruffled her hair gently, the women became confused. What was he doing?

"Close your eyes, May," Came a distorted voice, much like that of her 'boyfriend'. "Time to take you home." This sounded like it belonged to a young mother, a smile in her words. Were they recordings of other people?

For all she knew, this… person could just kill her. On the other hand, a murderous vibe didn't come from him. With little choice, she closed her eyes, trying hard to still herself. Soon after, large arms scooped her up, carrying her like a child. Then they were running. Or rather, he was running and she was held close to his chest. She began to grow drowsy as they ran, the heat of his chest lulling her. Within seconds she was asleep, in the arms of some alien warrior, for all she knew.

~.~

"You are so soft sometimes, Kilioun," Came the ever nagging voice of his unwilling companion Jipas.

Dah`je whipped his head around to glare over his shoulder, mandibles flaring out in warning. He then turned back to the oomans below, who were fussing over the blonde woman that had suddenly appeared at their doorstep, asleep. May, he remembered her name was. Like the fifth ooman month. Hopefully, she wouldn't remember his existence. It'd save her life in the future.

The red painted hunter couldn't help but let out a sharp exhale at Jipas' remark. Sometimes, he couldn't help it. When he heard that there was a serial killer among the humans of this colony, he felt this overwhelming need to act. He was too late for the last victim of that honorless pauk but at least he was able to save this one. Dah`je didn't care if this little hunt of his came off as 'soft'. His father told him that there was more to a Yaut`ja's life than the Great Hunt. That life should be cherished and that there was a story behind each prey he brought down.

"Think of it as killing a Bad Blood," Dah`je said with a flippant wave of his hand. "I've removed the taint from their society."

"You talk of them as if they were actual people." Jipas appeared at his side. "I don't care whatever your father tells you. These pyode amedha are just a bunch of animals. Smarter and advanced, yes. But if you think for a second that they will be able to join in on the intergalactic community, you're foolish to believe in such a future."

Compared to Dah`je, Jipas was an avocado color with splotches of dirty yellow and brown, giving him an advantage in more forest and jungle like environments. He was dressed in more obsidian colored armor, as opposed to the normal silver. Then again, he came from another clan before being adopted into Dah`je's. A distinct X-shaped scar sat on the right side of his chest; a story he refuses to tell anyone about. He was still a few inches smaller than Dah`je, and not nearly as strong either.

It was no secret that Jipas held some resentment towards his 'companion'. Given the reputation Dah`je had, much of it stemming from his father, as well as the fact that he was more favored among older hunters, he was surprised the smaller Yaut`ja hadn't challenged him yet. Many would pay to see someone finally take down the red speckled Yaut`ja.

"Your assumptions are rather petty, Miyen`dak."

Jipas huffed before stalking off. Dah`je shook his head before clipping his mask back on. He didn't wish to live with oomans, nor did he think they would ever be able to live peacefully among other aliens. Dah`je simply saw them as children, with very few wise elders among them. They were still prey but there were times in which he could relate to a few of their members. Or relate some parts of his culture to theirs.

Dah`je and the small band of hunters remained on the colony planet for a few more days. With the serial killer having gone missing suddenly, and the ooman woman going on about how he tried to kill her, there were plenty of law enforcers out in the open to go around and slowly pick off. On top of all the ooman hunters and gang members in the colony, that is. It was large enough that such small disappearances didn't make that big of an impact. There were quite a few trophies collected from the oomans, along with some animals from the wilds.

After killing the honorless trash, however, Dah`je just didn't feel in the mood of hunting. At least, not any oomans right now. He stood on top one of the colony buildings, close to the edge but not close enough that an ooman could look up and see him. He wasn't stupid. Yet he was still deep in thought, his arms folded across his chest and his gaze directed to the bodily traffic taking place beneath him. Like insects scurrying past each other as they tried to complete their tasks.

There were times in which his mind went back to the blonde woman and how she looked up at him in awe. He had purposefully painted himself red and in unique designs akin to ones he had seen in one of their myth books. In fact, he had earned the name Yokai by a few of the oomans he hunted, as well as protected and saved. Several colonies and even those on Earth spoke of him as their own type of legend. Thinking about it now made Dah`je smile.

The first time he had heard it, he was hiding in a crevice within the warm establishment of a ooman bar on a colony only lightyears away. He was beginning to doze off when one of the drunkards mentioned how a friend of his was saved by something not human. That instantly caught the hunter's undivided attention. The red speckled hunter turned up the hearing on his biomask and focused directly on that group.

"...uys look at me like I'm crazy." The storyteller huffed. "I'm just relaying what Takada told me about his little Yokai."

"You mean the same Takada that goes on and on about his ancestry's myths and famous samurai?"

"...Yes."

"Ha! I knew it."

"May I continue?" He was met with silence. "Alright, as I was saying, Takada was still being chased by the gang members even after the Yokai came and picked the first off from the ground. He managed to get over a fence and -poor trigger happy potsheads forgot how to climb- watched as they tried to break through the metal to get to him. That was when the Yokai suddenly appeared behind him, a mask of silver and red peering down at him like some sort of demon.

"Takada admitted to me that he was scared shitless. There was the Yokai standing right over him, and then there was the gang members crying for his blood on the other side of the fence. He thought that his life was over. And the Yokai brought over a bag and put it over Takada's head." The storyteller took a pause in order to catch his breath, though he did look rather deep in thought. "The next part makes little sense, from what Takada told me. He said… he said the Yokai put the bag over his head and told him to cover his ears. When he did, he said he could still hear screaming. After what felt like hours to him, the Yokai came back, took the bag off his head, and carried him home.

"He didn't say what happened to the gang members and when I brought it up, he just looked mortified. When the Yokai brought him home, he told Takada to 'keep silence' before giving him a tooth and disappearing. Never to be seen again." The storyteller ended with a dramatic flair, causing his entire audience to laugh hysterically.

Since then, Dah`je had heard tales of the Yokai in other ooman establishments, each talking about how he saved some people from certain death. Some would say how he was a vengeful ghost who attacked those had little to no honor. Others say how he was a watchful spirit who protected those in danger. The tales and stories varied from colony to colony, each describing him always as a large man painted in red with silver armor and moved like a shadow. Where exactly they got the name Yokai, Dah`je would never know.

But he did start making it a habit to wear red paint whenever he hunts on ooman worlds.

"Is there something you want to say, young one?" Dah`je grumbled out loud when he detected a presence nearby, tearing him from his thoughts.

Out of the corner of his eye, the young hunter approached cautiously. He was the youngest of the hunting party but that did not mean he wasn't skilled. In fact, he was elder Zazin's greatest protegè. Dah`je couldn't recall what the younger hunter's name was, however. They had never quite met face to face before.

"Why do the others mock you?" He asked, his tone more angered than curious.

"Because I do not think like them."

"You are still their clan brother. That must count for something."

"That is not always the case, young one. The one who thinks, acts, or even looks different will be chastised in one way or another." Dah`je took a pause. "Don't let me deter you. Some of these hunters are fine people. Learn from them, watch how they fight."

"You're rather passive, considering how your own clan spits on your honor."

Dah`je looked to the youth fully now, his mask hiding his interest in this young hunter's curiosity. He was a similar yellow color but his black markings were more faded. His entire appearance screamed youth and inexperience. There was barely any signs of battle on the young hunter. Only his mask showed some sort of damage, seeing as there was a long single gash going across it. Dah`je had a sinking feeling that this Young Blood has had some bad run-ins. Or a very vigorous and near fatal training experience. Its just that the scars weren't visible.

"As the words of my father," The older of the two began. "There is much more in this life that is important than honor alone. That is the only type of lesson you will learn if you chose to observe me for your own experiences."

"But without honor, we are no better than the Hish or-"

"You twist my words. I said that there is more things to concerned about than honor alone. I did not say that we should abandoned it. Otherwise," Dah`je looked down to the oomans below. "We would be no better than some of the sentient prey we dare hunt."

A/n: My apologies if my character Dah`je seems a bit bland. I haven't touched him nor his character in some years (he was one of my first OCs) so I'm a bit rusty with him. And I've been listening to quite a bit of Asian folk music, hence his armor and appearance, as well as his title among humans as Yokai. And same as ever, eff you false history I pulled out my ass. :( why must you be difficult to write at times? You'd think it'd be easier taking from someone else's idea and building up on it but noooooooo. I've had an easier time writing history for my own original works...

Next update may possibly be soon, depending whether or not I die during this week. May finals one day be purged from this world. As well as the nonsense known simply by the name of homework -_- Expect exploration on Dah`je's family (or well, his dad) and why half the warriors tend to pick on him. And maybe possibly a slight twist, depending on what takes place. I have places for our hunter hero :)

Pred out~