Dark Plans

The smell of cooked Rhynth meat, sweet corn and baked beans swirled through the campsite as the men laughed and spoke of stories under the starry sky, "Seriously?! You made that up!"

"No, really," Nathan shoved his friend's shoulder, "I took down a banshee with one bullet to the head while it flew right at me, fangs and all. An ugly thing it was too but the best moment I had during the colony expansion on LV-56."

"That's bullshit," A beefy guy named Jeff snorted halfway chewing, "I don't believe you."

"Fine. Then before daybreak, I'll show you my gunslinger moves I've been practicing. I bet you wouldn't last a second before I put it between your eyes!"

The men roughed each other in a playful manner, having the best time of their lives. They had a successful time with surveying new territories to expand Prosperity Wells and if things went according to plan, they truly believed their work would pay off.

It was truly a great moment. What could possibly go wrong?

"Enough, ladies!" The leader of their group, Dave, yelled, "Get your asses to sleep. We need to be up bright and early to get back home in time."

With a synchronized groan, the men gathered their empty plates and silverware, checking to ensure everything was cleaned up before heading to their sleeping bags. Dave motioned for Nathan to come, waiting as he jumped over stuff and weaved through bodies, "Everything checked?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. It's your shift next."

Nathan groaned, "Man . . . Can't someone else do it? I want some sleep."

"Then I'm sure you'll have time to think about how to manage your time so you can get sleep before your assigned shift that 'you' chose," Dave crossed his arms with a stern look on his face, "Cover for Joe."

"Yes, sir."

Dave looked up to the overhead cliff edge, "Joe! Your shift is done. Come down and Dave will relieve you."

Both waited but there was no response other than the silence of night. Nathan called this time but it was met with the same dead quietness, "Joe? Come on. You shouldn't be sleeping on duty."

'Wait," Dave grabbed his shoulder before he could take a step toward the cliff, "Do you see that?"

"See what?" Nathan asked but paused when he saw Dave looking up to the cliff, almost cautious in expression. He followed and saw nothing. What's his problem?

Out of nowhere, even with the small mumbles from the people in the camp, a soft clicking sound was heard. Dave and Nathan froze, the sound unnerving and foreign that it put up red flags in their minds, especially for Dan who was up there.

The silence grew heavier, making their hearts beat faster in anticipation and fear. They inched back, hopefully to get a better view of what was up there. They stopped when they saw a shadow looming over, almost a human in form.

Nathan was the first to relax, chuckling, "Good job in freaking us out. Next time you sho—"

The shadow grew larger until something fell from the cliff edge, landing right before their feet. Both stumbled back, gasping loud enough that the others ran to them from their sleeping bags, stopping in their tracks at the horrid sight before them. Lying on the ground was a body, blood rapidly spilling into a pool like a fountain from the neck. The most shocking was that the head was missing, skin cut into shreds with a broken knife. Everyone gathered around, fear and panic began to settle in their chests.

"Oh . . . my . . . God."

Dave was the only one who had the courage to look closer, kneeing to grab the sleeve of the brown jacket still on the body, twisting the wrist to notice the bloody patch with the name written on it. As soon as he read it, he jumped to his feet, breath shakened.

"What is it?" Nathan stepped closer.

"It's . . ." Dave swallowed, "Joe . . ."

"What!?" Everyone shouted.

Dave shook his head, unable to speak and even if he did, he had no answer. What happened?

"Who could have done this!?" Shouts of anger and disbelief echoed throughout the camp.

"I . . ."

Just then, a huge thud shook the ground, scaring the entire campsite to step back, weapons drawn and loaded. The crash was right in the middle where the body was but with nothing in sight. What is going on?

And then something moved in a circle, floating in the air before them as it glowed with the light from the campfire. Dripping with deep crimson liquid from the edges, a skull with one eyeball still attached weaved back and forth as if mocking them, pieces of skin stuck to the bones. The spine was still attached, tendons and nerve endings swayed like string. It stuck into everyone's being, freezing them in their spots while their minds scrambled to process what they were seeing.

Suddenly, the skull and spine rose high followed by an animalistic roar that pierced into their ears. That was the trigger that set everything off.

"Shoot it!"

Guns cocked and aimed for the unknown being, a big mistake that they didn't realize until too late. Before they could even pull the trigger, many of the men were suddenly attacked from behind, a bombardment of blue blasts and metal spears rained down on them.

The bloodbath had begun but it was such a delight in Tichinde's mind as he watched a few oomans die from the first wave of attack amidst the fire. He can feel the tearing of Soft Meat flesh, hear screams of h'dlak echoing off the rocks, and touch the spilled thwei decorating their blades. He relished the idea to insight terror by displaying their dead comrade's skull like a trophy, a small glimpse of what's to come for each and every one.

Tichinde strolled along, not bothering to evade the bullets that sparked around him. Two oomans stumbled in his path, pathetic weapons pointed at his masked face. His mandibles clattered in a call and two of his followers kept from behind, stabbing them relentlessly with such ease as they screamed. Such joy sent pleasure into his body, warmth spread through his fingertips and into his groin, causing him to purr.

As quick as the battle ensued, it was over in mere minutes. Nothing remained except the burning crevices, the blood soaked dirt puddles where bodies of fallen oomans laid, most with their spines and skulls removed while others had suffered a worse fate. The young ones raised their blades in celebration, roaring to Cetanu of their glory in battle.

"My Leader," Gyru came forth as Tichinde dropped his trophy carefully on a rock, "This is a great victory we have achieved."

"Of course," He eyed the male, "Have you doubts?"

"Well—"

Tichinde backhanded Gyru, forcing him to kneel on the bloody ground, holding his face with deep scratches bleeding green, "We are the supreme hunters of the universe. Never say those words ever again or else your head will be my trophy."

Gyru bowed his head, a sign of absolute submission that Tichinde trilled proudly, the only way to keep incompetent Yautja under his command as he learned the hard way.

"Tichinde."

He turned around as Da'lk came forth, stopping to bow at his superior, "We found something."

Tichinde raised the muscle over one eye, "Found what?"

"It was discovered fleeing from the battle. A gift from your clan for this gracious victory. I'm sure you'll love it."

Da'lk clicked, flicking two clawed fingers in the direction of the crowd full of Yautja warriors, spreading apart by the middle. Tichinde hummed, already knowing what was coming. It didn't take a clever hunter, given the screams and howls of a feeble ooman being dragged by a young warrior whose name he'd forgotten. The male threw it across until it rolled into the middle of the circle they had formed.

His eyes squinted behind the mask. The ooman was quite petite, curled into a ball and whimpering like a kicked mutt, pale and ugly lips quivering. He noticed for a second that it appeared to have milk glands and a long mane. A female? He took a closer inspection and saw movement. She has something.

"Bring me what she's carrying."

The males swarmed around, reaching for her. The female, realizing the danger, screamed and tightened herself further into a circle. It didn't matter as she was pulled apart by two of his followers while another had what the ooman hid . . . a small, wailing pup.

"No . . ! Please!" Tichinde ignored the animal loop translating the ooman's speech, a device he took as a trophy from an ngar'ika with advanced improvements to the standard one . . . although it did have its stepbacks.

Carefully, he pinched his fingers on either side of its neck as it tried to fight back, scratching at his harder skin. It couldn't be more than a few cycles old, babbling poorly in its speech so he figured it didn't have much communication. Typical creature. He grinned. So helpless.

"Please!"

Suddenly, the female ooman made a break for it, rushing toward Tichinde with such desperation, clinging to his legs with no sense of consequences, "Please spare my son . . . I'll do anything!"

Tichinde tilted, then pressed his animal loop to search for the right recording, "Anything . . ?"

The female shook her head, whimpering, "Yes . . . I'll give my life . . . Just . . ." She lowered her head, tears dropping to the dirt under, "Let him live . . ."

There was a moment of silence in the air. The males waited for their Leader's decision, eyes directed at his next move, the most from the female who folded her hands together and more tears emerged. Tichinde let the pause linger for a few minutes, allowing the tension to build up for the epic climax.

He twisted his hand, forcing the ooman pup to turn in the direction of his bearer. He cried out for her, more babbling that was starting to irritate him but not enough. He raised the pup higher for all to see. The female's smile slowly faded upon realization, twisting in anticipation of the horror of what was coming.

Tichinde grinned under his mask,squeezed his claws into the pup. It cried again while he let the animal loop play, "Anything . . ."

Barely using half of his strength, he squeezed . . . and the pup's head exploded into millions of pieces, brain matter, shards of bone and all.

The body dropped like a bag of trash while the female was frozen like a statue from the shock. That's what I want. Tichinde stepped tentatively to her and with a flick of his wrist, the blades emerged. She snapped out of it for a second, right as he played the animal loop again.

"I'll do anything . . . give my life . . ."

He twisted his arm in an uppercut move, stabbing under her chin and ripping her head from her body, feeling the tendons, ligaments and bone snap like twigs. A life was gone in a mere second and the thought of it renewed his body with newfound strength.

"That was good," Tichinde removed the skull from his blades, "Is that the last of them?"

Da'lk nodded, "This was the last of the ooman encampments surrounding their nest. They are vulnerable now."

"And the Queen?"

"Already made her nest and created a dozen of her brood. The oomans are done for."

Tichinde gazed at the place where the rest of the oomans resided, lights emerging as the darkness crept overhead, "It is time to strike."

He raised the bloody ooman skull and cried out in nan-de than gaun. The other males joined, clattering their mandibles and tusks in a frenzy, roaring into the sky for the Hunt to begin.

Neera walked back and forth between her bed and the door. After the incident at the labs, Ackland ordered her to be locked out of security, the access she once had was stripped from her. Dr. Revna could do nothing about it, partially because of something she didn't know. No one would tell her anything and now she was confined to her room until further orders. In a fit of anger, Neera punched the wall, her knuckles cracking from the impact.

She pulled away in disgust. That bastard. She paced back and forth again. What is he up to? What's so big that he would risk his career and the trust of the colonists to cover up?

Regardless of what she thought, she could do nothing in her state. She sat on the bed and sighed, hanging her head low. There's gotta be something I can do. Otherwise, I'm—

She shook her head. I can't think like that. Don't you dare thi—

She jumped when she heard a knock at the door. At first, she didn't bother to answer but when it persisted in an urgent matter, she relented with a groan, "Who is it?"

"It's me."

Neera raised her eyebrows as the door slid open and out came the one person she least expected, "Machiko?"

The Japanese woman stepped in, almost with a tiny demeanor of intimidation, expecting her to submit with focused eyes. Neera stepped back but puffed up like a toad with her arms crossed, "What do you want?"

Machiko spoke, "I'm here to ask you something."

"Okay."

"You were at the labs when the incident occurred."

Neera rolled her eyes. Of course. She's going to interrogate me for shit because the higher ups are in disarray. What a joke.

"I'll stop you there," Neera raised her hand, heading to her bed, "If this is about my 'insubordination' and such, forget it. I've already spoken to one too many people about it. So if you excuse me, I would like to have some privacy."

"I need your help."

Neera stopped in her tracks. To hear that from the administrator of Chigusa Industries who had a reputation for being a hard ass was unexpected. Her facial expression of doubt left no room for question. "You're serious? How do I know to believe you?"

"Ackland is hiding something," Machiko stepped forward, "Ever since Dr. Revna's team returned, things have been kept hushed from others, even Hiroki and I don't know shit. And now, my little birdies told me that not only Dr. Revna's husband is dead but the encampments around Prosperity Wells have all been killed."

Neera's eyes widened, her mouth opened a crack, "All of them?"

"All of them."

Her body suddenly felt cold, forcing to sit on the bed. It explained why Dr. Revna was in such a state and she knew many of them who worked on the outskirts of the colony and even lived there. Families . . . children . . . friends . . . those who wanted to start a new life were gone just like that. She glanced at Machiko who looked just as guilty as she was, "How?"

"I don't know. But what I can confirm is that Ackland has taken command, hiding that thing in the labs along with everyone else involved. We need access to those labs."

Neera nodded, "You're right but why do you need me? You should know that I lost access to them when Ackland kicked me out. Why do you need me?"

Machiko lowered her gaze suddenly, "I know a little that you have done 'things' back on Earth. I'm wondering if you are willing to use some of your old tricks once more."

Neera paused, lowering her head to the metal floor. What she was asking of her was something she promised herself never to do again after all the suffering she endured and then brought on to others.

But . . .

Her fists tightened, lips pressed into a thin line. As much as she didn't want to . . . if what Machiko said was true, then it couldn't be helped. She looked back and nodded with a deep breath, "Fine. I'm in."

She stood up, "What's the plan?"

Machiko raised her chin, "We need to bring Ackland down . . . and find out what the fuck's going on."

Cetanu = Black Warrior (God of Death)

H'dlak = Fear

Nan-de than gaun = Kiss of Midnight (No mercy)

Ngar'ika = Enforcer (aka Arbitrator that is tasked with bringing those who break the honor code into justice)

Thwei = Blood

Normal = Human speaking human language

Bold = Yautja speaking ooman language (aka recordings)

Bold and Italics = Yautja speaking Yautja language