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2556 July 25
Hyperdyne Sector, planet New Chicago, GC Sector, North-East district of Gilsaer City.
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For the umpteenth time, Melanie looked at her watch.
It was near noon, they should have been here a hours ago. She was skipping class, an important one, there better be some fruit to it.
Over the past five days, translations had proceeded to the point of crude little message pads being created for communication. Jormungandr really was amazing, with what it could produce in such short time, though Melanie could give herself a pad on the shoulder too for acquiring some samples online on their language. If only a little, it had helped since Jor didn't have much social knowledge.
Food. They needed something to eat for their clan until their ship was fixed. Their enemy had the amazing decency to not attack them while they were down, even though their ship apparently was in a better state. According to Bakarne, they had a system of honor, much like the human race (supposedly) had its altruism.
Melanie wasn't too sure how altruistic their own motifs for helping were. With the clairvoyants she never quite knew what to expect, Mahad was all over the pursuit for knowledge, Zib thought it was a game. Melanie herself just went along because this was the latest project of their gang, and it had Jor's interest and he called the shots. Even if that meant waiting down in this brooding tunnel, just to get some data.
She had tied her jacket around her waist and was working down her fourth bottle of water, sitting on an empty container. Around her were various odd devices, the product of surrounding junk and boredom. The city worked like a greenhouse on the tunnels beneath it, keeping the warmth trapped and never really letting it cool down.
It was just a slight movement that caught her ears, a distant scrape of metal, electricity, oh so familiar to her sharp hearing. Something alien and cloaked was nearby. Instinctively she tensed and looked around, from one end of the tunnel to the other. Nothing moved. She considered calling out one of the yautja's names, but dropped the idea. If it was one of the jokers, she'd find out soon enough, but if it was an enemy, her knowledge of their names could betray them.
There, in the shadows. An elusive line against the wall. She wouldn't have seen it if she hadn't known what to look for. It was watching her too, but why had it taken an interest? Quickly she looked down again, maybe she still could pretend she hadn't noticed it ...
Drat. She had been fidgeting with her tool-ring and on it was a little knife of some sort of black metal. Ohtremnek had dropped it a few days ago by accident, she had found it and he had let her keep it. Metal detectors didn't respond to it, so she had kept it...shit.
She looked up again. The outline was much closer.
Melanie's breath accelerated, but she kept her eyes fixed on it. Running? She wasn't fast enough.
The hunter tilted it's head. It meant curiosity, Melanie knew. She dared hope she wouldn't end up dead or abducted.
Suddenly, the Yautja charged forward. She saw its arm stretch out, heard the a blade extending, heard the feet splash in the pools of water. Instinctively, she curled up and put her arms around her head. The blade struck the wall right next to her.
"Zin tarei hsan!" She had said it before she could restrain herself. Oh great, now the stranger definitely knew she was involved...
A soft clattering. Melanie didn't look up, but then she felt a large hand in the back of her neck, pulling her to sit straight up, the other hand took the tools form her. She felt one of the claws prick in her neck and she squeaked.
But the hand let go quickly and Melanie shuffled backward, nearly off the container.
The hunter seemed more interested in getting the little black tool off the ring. Or maybe not. What remained of the ring was tossed back at her and the hunter said : "Ellos'de thau'yim ri'tca hveir-de? Ellos'de ka'hr uilte?"
She understood "you" and "this", but nothing more. Probably she was being asked where she had gotten it. No way she could tell. Her mind quickly put together the best option.
"M-di yuta."
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Karga'te waited.
It didn't take very long before she reemerged. Leaning out of the window slightly, he trailed her with his eyes as she made her way back to the edge of the city, finally.
This morning, he had said things couldn't possibly be more dire. He took that back.
The Jormungandr had warned them on the way here there were other yautja hanging around their destination. Two, precisely. Hm, took it long enough, Karga'te had known them to be there for a while. Granted, he hadn't known how many.
Somehow, the invisible thing had spread some field or whatever that prevented small areas from behind scanned by those hunters. All he had to do was stay under the wind, and he could tail them.
He was surprised they had sent her.
Kea'chethi was a skilled but unpopular unblooded, an illborn like him. Her defect had not shown immediately, only as she aged and it became apparent she had terrible eyesight. Normally, it would have meant a life in servitude, never leaving the door. At best. Illborn were supposed to die. A few managed to raise up, usually the smart and strong ... Kea was of the smart variety. In fact, she was smart enough to do something, somehow, to not only fix her eyes but actually see better than all others.
Maybe that was why she had been given special permission to scout, they now had some idealized idea of just how good she could see. Idiots. She got ahead because she was smart, not magically sighted. She probably had spent half her time observing human culture to get a hang of the place. Like how the city stuck together, or how the vaguely alkaline scent of a singular human female, not fully matured, leading into abandoned tunnels at the edge of the city was totally not ordinary.
It could mean two things : Kea either knew now Nra'tex-ne had been right, or she had been told nothing about what had happened between Meidache and Nra'tex-ne and her actions just now were pure curiosity. He quickly dismissed the latter, if so she had no reason to be on the look out for suspicious humans.
When he was absolutely sure the huntress was gone, he descended from the empty building and sprinted into the tunnel. Seeing the environment was clear, Karga'te decloaked.
The human that had was waiting here tensed up, but quickly relaxed when she recognized him. She smelled too much like Kea'chethi. On the ground before the container lay scattered tools, broken off the ring the human now held. He spotted the hardmeatshell knife ... oh shit.
Judging by the crumbled wall behind the human, Kea had not been happy to realize their little contact mission had been successful. Karga'te didn't care for why, it was news no matter the reason.
And he smelled a little human blood.
Getting onto the container he reached for the human, but she jumped off. Karga'te didn't have the patience to get Jor to translate he was just going to check for something. Quickly he jumped into her direction, landing right at her side. Before she could back away further, he took her by the shoulder and pushed her on her knees. Kneeling down himself, he had a closer look at her neck.
As he had suspected, a tiny puncture was in the skin. It probably contained a sherdi spore now; a convenient biological tracker when one knew how to use it.
Right, how to get it out without the human here freaking out.
She tried looked back, emitting that fearful scent, but no screaming or struggling at least. He rubbed thumb and index finger together, then pointed at her neck.
Muttering a coarse yes in her language, he took that to mean she got it.
Kea was so fond of her spores, really, she ought to know better. Karga'te removed a short needle from his gauntlet and pinched it right where the tiny wound was.
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"Someone else been here," Oihana muttered when she arrived.
"Yeah ...another hunter," Melanie said while sliding off the container. "It put a tracker or something in my neck, Karga'te took it out ... he must still be around here somewhere."
"Why do you trust them more now for that? You didn't trust them much before, nothing changed since then."
"Don't read my mind without permission!" Melanie crossed her arms and turned away. Then she spotted Carly's silhouette in the tunnel opening. "What is shedoing here?"
"Oh, I just like to keep an eye on my would-be murderers. Just in case back stabbing will occur," Carly dryly said as she walked down the tunnel.
"You're not coming along."
"You gonna stop me?"
They stared each other down for a moment, but before anything became of it, a loud clattered broke the tension. Rubble and a metal roofplate came down the tunnel, Bakarne was clearing the way. Behind her was Nra'tex-ne, walking alright but with obvious discomfort, even to a human eye.
"You two, come along," Bakarne said soothingly, though with a threatening eye to either of them. Carly spit on the ground and lazily walked past Melanie.
"So, where are we going?"
"To what we now will call the alien fridge," Oihana said.
The humans went ahead in a spread group, three yautja followed.
Deeper into darkness, humid rotting air met them.
Their destination was a massive underground lake. Alien moss grew up the walls and spread across the dirt covered floor, this place had formed naturally and the ceiling was unstable. Upon their entrance, Jor turned on a dim light source, which the children had activated under its guidance.
Carefully, the humans and yautja made their way across the slippery plants, reaching a lone water post that never had been finished. There had been plans to reroute the lost water, which had ultimately been abandoned and Jor had ensured the place would be forgotten.
Down a slope was the lake's closest shore, the end was in another cave far beyond sight and light. Across the shores lay a variety of mutated reptiles, the results of genetic engineering gone wrong. Some only a meter long, others up to twelve. The Ash Generation and their strange existence wasn't the only legend of the city, though many of the rumors were false. The crocodiles didn't have hundreds of extra eyes for example, they only had two or three.
"There are mutant alligators in our ridiculously spacious sewers," Carly said slowly. "Yoh, Oihana, you and your mom are like monks, right? I'd like you to file a complaint with the universe for me, I don't think it's taking my existence serious."
"We can do that," Oihana said with a light laugh.
"Seriously for a moment. It's like this city was built to hide something," Carly continued. "I always wondered about what? It can't be these beasts, these things are useless."
Melanie rolled her eyes as obviously as possible and opened the door to the cabin. Mahad followed right away, but Bakarne and Oihana stayed outside. Frank had not come, in his own words he was too much of a wussy for the upcoming event.
"You know what else is weird? That they can eat our food," Carly said as she joined them in the cabin.
"There's some theory that these hunters, the Yautja, originate from Earth," Mahad said. "Their culture is primal, yet they have technology so advanced that it could not have developed from a hunter-gatherer culture, since it would require manufacturers and a more dense society, as well as a social approval for science. They may have obtained the technology from another species, one that visited Earth. As such, they can feed on roughly similar things as we do."
"Really? Why are there no records?"
"According to Jor there well may have been, but these were either kept under lock by some organization. It probably got lost in the first large scale machine war."
"Really."
Ghuran and Kargate were already moving down the slope, they had understood what they were here for soon enough. But Otter remained behind, wondering rather similar things as Carly did. Namely, the edibility of these beasts, since he himself had discovered the hard way half of human would caused digestive issues.
Oihana psychically showed him their diet, consisting of amphibians and fish that found they way here by land and small streams, as well as the mosses and plants, and occasionally each other. Crocodiles were now supposed to be omnivores or cannibals, but these were no more crocodiles due to an excess of genetic tampering.
That last part may have come across wrong, since Ohtremnek nearly ran after the others and shouted something about cursed flesh; their tribes had zero familiarity with genetics. Just in time, she used a mythic monster parable to explain.
Weren't there hunters who ate the flesh of some demon serpents in their mythology? These beasts? Made by dishonorable deities.
He got it. Not knowing how to convey answers in Spirit Speech, he simply nodded, a gesture he had picked up from observation. Then he joined the other two.
Yautja did not normally thank for favors, lest those who paid them were of great honor. Otter was no exception, but not out of conscious choice. It simply never occurred to him, to owe gratitude to a weaker creature.
The three engaged the first crocodile together, using nets and blades. The flock exploded in frantic twisting, snapping jaws and crashing tails, giants to battle and the smaller to water. Stronger than the yautja, but only for a short time; illogical lifeform as they, the hunters soon got the upper hand.
They weren't neat about killing, death stroke was only the start of the blood bath. They skinned them, turning the water a thick dark purple in the blue lights, the metallic scent of the blood polluting the once quiet haven. Child's play for them, carnage for the humans.
The crocodiles in the water reemerged, smelling blood and food, deceptively easy to obtain. Karga'te was the first to figure out they could bait them, blind them with the an overload of scent as they had not experienced before.
Oihana had felt the snap of death before, but never this much. Still, rather this than the nightmares she got from the corpses; they had chopped them up and worked them away into caves. If not for the intent to give the crocodiles to the yautja as food, they would have fed to mess to the flock here.
Melanie was fumbling with her laptop, calculating the final amount of meat and trying to find out how to get the conservation powder Jor had kindly obtained for them into this place.
Mahad was watching the killing in disgusted fascination, filming it even with the intent to show Zib.
Carly too watched and feigned indifference, but she was actually observing oh so closely to get an idea on the fighting tendencies of her enemies.
The hunters moved further down the cave.
Her mother kept a psychic check on the three, ensuring they would not go too far.
Predators became prey.
Silence.
Tex was here too, but she had done her hardest to ignore him.
His still form, on the stairs before the cabin, was a stark contrast to his aura, full of doubt and movement. Oihana found the thoughts of suicide that occasionally surfaced in him far more terrifying than the weapons he carried. Still, he was reconsidering.
Bakarna sat down aside of her and laid an arm around her daughter's shoulders.
"Don't lose yourself now, alright?" she whispered.
"It's okay. I think soon he'll be able to tell himself he isn't that bothered by what his brother did."
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Karga'te unceremoniously dropped a chunk of bloody meat into his brother's lap.
"Eat, it's good."
Nra'tex-ne tore himself away from contemplating a network of codes, rules of conduct and a waking nightmare of having had to violate them a few times to many.
His brother was standing before him, the feeble metal stairs creaking under their combined weight. With how utterly satisfied he looked, like one who had returned from an challenged and worthyhunt, he spawned unfathomable irritation in Nra'tex-ne. Karga'te really didn't care for all the violations he had committed in the past days, did he?
Nra'tex-ne refrained from the undignified urge to lash out. If anything, he should have done that before.
The meat was much like junk food, tough and without real nutrition. But it satisfied his hunger better than anything the humans had produced so far.
"How much?"
"Didn't count. I'm guessing if it's on ration, we can feed the clan for about a week," Karga'te said.
"I asked the Jor. There are no more places like this," Ohtremnek called from down the shore. "But a week is a long time for pepped up mechanics to get things working. Not optimally, mind you."
Right. Excellent.
Thought of ritual suicide were starting to sound whiny, and besides, his brother would need more prods than the normal Hunter's Life could give to get straight on the Path. No time to die miserably.
Nra'tex-ne stood up, again ignored his leg and went to the nearest corpse. Karga'te handed him a blade, and the older yautja ate his fill. The other three took a kill of their own to feed on.
"I will go to meet the clan. I want you three to stay here and protect our allies," Nra'tex-ne said once he was done.
Karga'te jerked up.
"Don't be crazy, I'm coming along!"
"Honor will be my best shield. Brother, no offense but your sharp tongue might just make things worse," Nra'tex-ne said. The unsaid, Karga'te's bloodline wasn't all that pure either, he needed Meidache at his side instead.
Karga'te snarled something incomprehensible, but said no more.
A message appeared on the gauntlet, a rough translation of what the human named Mahad said.
Apparently, Jor would be able to help figure out what really happened with the conflict, if he were to be attached to the ship.
Nra'tex-ne typed in a quick response. Help was welcome still, if Jor would give it.
He wasn't sure what to think of this Jor, or Zib, neither of which he had gotten to see yet. Apparently, the latter was too young to wander around unsupervised without raising attention, but he couldn't figure out what the deal with the latter was. There had been no suitable translation found for the word they called this one, yet.
A similar question was, what to think of the help these humans offered without asking anything in return? Maybe they were knowledge seekers after all, as the rumors said. They sure seemed to think Spirit Speech was entirely normal. Kinda made him wonder how much existed that he didn't even know he didn't understand.
Life hadn't always been so bloody complicated. Wise hunters would say complication could enrich how one wandered the Path, but right now, he just found the Path to be a bit muddy. The sort of mud that slips between your toes and throws you off the road when you're wearing the wrong boots.
Mahad approached him with some sort of device that he had prepared, and Nra'tex-ne allowed it to be installed on his gauntlet.
The three younglings were instructed to accompany the humans, but not to enter their house. Rather, stay close enough to ensure their survival, but not close enough to possibly betray them. He still expected the enemy clan to be around. Ghuran wanted to know why they still needed the humans, which earned him an elbow in the stomach by Ohtremnek; they might still need the humans and at least they needed to be kept out of the wrong hands, since they had so much knowledge now.
Nra'tex-ne wasn't all that comfortable with the idea of leaving their hosts to these three, but nothing could be done about it. He tried explaining their purpose to the matriarch Bakarne, and wished her a farewell. She seemed to understand.
Then he departed quickly. It was evening now, much colder to him and his need for tropical heat. Along the way, it proved his leg injury was still acting up. But again, he bit through it.
A brief pause did make him aware of something : his brother had never actually said he agreed with staying behind, did he? He paid a little more attention, and sure enough. There he was.
Once Karga'te realized he had been spotted, he emerged before Nra'tex-ne.
"Kea'chethi is out there too, I'm coming along and will divert her if necessary," Karga'te said in that you-can't-stop-me tone.
Nra'tex-ne sighed and said, "Well then, brother, I rely on you for cover, if it turns out to be needed. Pray that it won't."
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