Chapter Twenty – Dishonour before Death
Dangles had felt the tremendous explosion associated with their wrist bombs. It was greatly saddening to know that one of his fellow brother Yautja had fallen. It was likely Jacky who chose death before dishonour as the explosion occurred in his hunting section. He, himself had been wounded tremendously as well, several human pellets to the chest and one skimmed the back of his unprotected cranium upon his retreat. Despite the weapons being so primitive themselves, they could still pack a punch. Dangles could feel several of the pellets resting inside him; it was unnerving and immensely discomforting.
The large wise Yautja had moved a safe distance from the human shuttlecraft. The men their scuttled around loathsomely, like insects capable of being crushed beneath his heavy greaves; though he had learnt something of their cooperation and teamwork even further. The original marine he had sliced with his disc was carried off last time, this time they actually put themselves at risk in saving him a second time. It was almost admirable if it wasn't so dishonourable. The pink and dark-skinned scourges were weak by themselves. Simple cattle for the slaughter... but when teamed into a herd even cattle could stampede its foes to the ground. A valuable lesson for Dangles.
The area he had chosen to recover was fairly open. The scree-slip behind the shuttlecraft provided the perfect vantage point at the cost of accessibility. He would need to go around again if he wished to collect more trophies from the humans. Several sheltering trees rested behind his recovering area. They provided excellent trophy-trees where he could store his rewards without their burdening weight. The first marine he had claimed trophy stared up at him blankly with hollow eyes. He was tempted to clean its flesh now as something to do while his wounds recovered but finding anymore motivation than that was hard. His body ached every time he moved and his head shrieked its agony from the glancing blow. A final decision weighted on him... it wasn't desirable and it hurt briefly more than the bullets could... it was the shards he carried.
Infused in plasma crystals there were miraculous healing powers for the Yautja race, an ancient discovery on their planet many millennia ago. These were mixed and packaged into an easy to use shard. The point sharpened to more than an insect stinger and the hilt easy to grip. Pulling the shard in two revealed two pointy tips; stabbing oneself with each shard would create a pain more substantial than any a Yautja could face. The plasma crystals liquidized and would flow into his body, rejuvenating muscle, organs, and even severed arteries in barely a second. The downside was the crystals latched onto nerve endings as well. Create an agonising stimuli for his body to convulse and shriek. Every single one of his ganglia would cry out in agony in the same second. If he didn't feel so crippled he'd prefer the rest option, but by the looks of the shuttle encampment, the humans were moving out, he'd need his strength now.
Reluctantly he pulled out one of the six shards he had packed. He never thought he'd ever need one, his skills and intelligence had become legendry at home. Yet here in a real hunt anything could happen, the slightest bit of rage or anger could make him lose control. He hadn't intended to smash the attacking human's skull with his helm but his rage fuelled his decisions. It was unwise but then every Yautja loses control sometimes... it was nothing out of the ordinary, Dangles reminded himself as he sat staring at the bluish vibrant medicine in his hand. So small and seemingly insignificant – yet it would make him shriek and cry out in more agony than anything else could. Quick and without mercy Dangles thought as he twisted the shard in two.
The points of each seemingly stared back malevolently as he readied them in front of his abdomen; softer tissue there he reminded himself. With a final sigh he thrust each point deeply into his gut. The original stab was manageable – simple injection. What followed next made him rigid and horrified. It was like his body was a city, and every one of its inhabitants cried out in terrified pain. Each muscle he bore tensed to the point of aching, his lungs inhaled deeply then froze, his eyes lulled into the back of his skull. Unconsciousness would not take him, he was in extraordinary pain yes, but Yautja could not black out from that. After an eternity of seconds latter his body tension died down to flaccidity. There was no doubt he was crying out during the ordeal, he didn't remember entirely, but the humans would have heard him. At that point he didn't care; he just never wanted to experience such torture ever again.
Slowly after a few seconds, he sat back up. The emptied shards were still inside his flesh. They were an ethereal transparent now. Carefully he inspected each one of his wounds. The bullets inside him were likely dissolved in the mixture and delivering useful chemicals to his fluorescent blood. The bullet wounds were back to normal scaly skin as was the glancing blow on the back of his head. He was in pristine shape and health once more. His clear-headedness came back quickly as he stared at the marines by the drop ship start moving onto the plain. They had finished with their packing and were now setting out. Some of them bore unconscious bodies of others. Likely from his cleverly placed mine. He suddenly longed to know how many he had slain in that blast. He may not be able to collect the likely crumbled trophies from them but he'd mark them on his bicep – above the knife wound the human leader had given him.
A sudden realisation dawned on Dangles as he thought on the hunt. He and his hunter brothers were given only three full rotations upon this planet. It had been two days and two nights already. His hunt ended when either that time was up or he had collected ten xenomorph trophies. He had collected but one xenomorph trophy, one human trophy and marked a further human upon his bicep... the one he had decapitated with his disc. Despite the threat the humans had on this sacred hunting ground he could not disobey the elder's orders; three cycles or ten serpent trophies... no excuses. He'd need to slay as many humans as he could before returning to his pod. He had the rest of the dying afternoon and the luxuriousness of night time before he was required to be at his pod. It automatically left the planet's surface whether he was in it or not. He wouldn't miss that ride.
With the renewed vigour of his strengthened body, Dangles leapt up with his blades extended. He would get as many trophies as possible before the day was through. In a final roar to reduce the morale of the humans below he leapt down the side path paralleling the scree cliff.
Break
Clayinator had felt completely awed by the serpent queen's presence. She was so immensely large and noble. Despite the obvious dangers presented before her she did not shriek in alarm or anger but rather calmly intimidated the humans with a single low hiss. Calling off her offspring from attacking the intruders was also a stroke of genius. In a scuffle many immature pods would have been damaged and perhaps the matriarch herself. Her decision to leave the humans and himself unharmed was wise and completely admirable.
He had retreated up another corridor looking for a way out of the immense hive. His original thoughts about the humans had been wrong. He suspected they were out to kill the matriarch but that was false. They had likely come out of some twisted honour or logic of their own to save their comrades from hiving. Whether they succeeded or not didn't interest him... only that he needed to start making his way back to his pod before the third cycle of his hunt had ended. He'd be left stranded on his infested planet with both serpents and humans if he wasn't on time. It wasn't exactly a daunting thought – he could hunt to his heart's content but then the elders would place a bounty upon his head. A renegade hunter with little thought of honour or the old-ways; he'd not become a treasonous swine.
Overall he had tallied ten serpent kills, that two was his requirement and limit in this hunt. It was why he did not strike the last attacker – the blackened one a fatal blow. An eleventh kill would be horrific in the eyes of his peers. Not so far as deserving the title of treacherous and dishonourable... but that he could not obey simple rules. He'd be welcome to stay in civilisation but no further hunts would be available. He could not dishonour himself in such a way. He'd disable a serpent if it tried to attack him perhaps – but he would not kill it.
While aimlessly wondering the vast resinous caves he did come across several more drones – he was surprised they hadn't smelt him from miles away. He was after all a Yautja – the ancient hunters of these creatures. Surely that'd be adapted to his smell by now. Yet they only darted backwards and forwards until the chamber he came to resided empty. It bore several maturing pods and several more resinous pillars. He very nearly walked to the other side of the chamber before realising the resinous ensnared victim on the wall was not actually human. Clayinator stood alarmed as he flicked his vision to normal rather than serpent-illuminating.
Looking subdued and breathing heavily was Jacky. His entire limb from his elbow was severed leaving a single messy fluorescent stump. Clayinator stared almost transfixed on his hunt brother with widened horrified eyes. Without a second pause he ran up to inspect his inners with his x-raying vision. A great sigh of relieve befall him. Jacky had not been hived yet. The ensnared Yautja gave a faded grunt before trying to level its unmasked face with Clayinator's. There was a long lasting silence between them after that moment. Clayinator almost felt like apologising as he withdrew a lone shard from his pouch. One of the only things a Yautja fears is the usage of such medicine... but it needed to be done. Jacky merely nodded as he braced himself for the penetration.
Clayinator had no mercy as he broke it in two then thrust each point deep into Jacky's unprotected abdomen. He looked away with a grim face as his hunt-brother first stiffened then convulsed involuntarily. If a Yautja could cringe then Clayinator did as he heard the immense bellows his hunt-brother released. Every serpent in the hive would hear his cries. Almost as quietly as it had begun, Jacky fell silent and his muscles loosened. Clayinator felt tremendously sorry for the hunter. He had almost been hived – he'd be ranted at by the elders for a good year before allowed back on a hunt... one armed.
In two big heaves Clayinator pulled the resinous prison away from his hunt-brother. With Jacky's face unconcealed behind a mask, he could see the expression of gratitude printed upon it. They spoke no words to each other – a simple nod was sufficient for both. The once fluorescent stump of Jacky's was now sealed over with scaly skin. Many hunters in the past had lost a limb in a hunt – they were easily replaceable with weapons or prosthetic limbs in turn. Without a second glance the two turned towards the exit on the other side of the chamber. Both Jacky and Clayinator had their ten trophies, both had completed their hunt; time to go home.