I do not own Predator vs. Alien
I do own the species of the little hunter, and her herself.
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Chapter One
It hunts those who kill for love of killing
The little hunter waited silently, unmoving, poised and waiting in the foliage that thoroughly caked the planet. It was blended in entirely with the foilage. Even the air it took the 'color' and 'quality of.' Perfectly cameleonized, it waited, its skin stripes of green and yellow, brown and the whitish gray pigment of the sky. From all angles the skin was different, giving the perfect illusion that nothing was there at all. And it waited.
Its senses shot far out into the forest around it, tasting the air, listening to the earth itself, seeing that which was far beyond the horizon. It was only a matter of time. Its prey drew near. It stayed on all fours; its taunt body close to the ground, watching... waiting... It was patient. It was a hunter. And it knew went to wait.
There. Its prey approached.
The predator was hunting. Cloaked and moving both expertly and near silently through he trees, he was indeed a danger to whatever promising looking kill wandered his way. Armed with a shoulder cannon, a throwing disk, his spear, and his ever-deadly wrist blades, he was invincible to all but luck on the sides of the Kainde or Pyode Amedha.
Which, in a way, disappointed him. It made the prey he hunted now challenging... but in no way difficult. As long as he didn't lose his head, he was guaranteed to win. But the scull would be a fine addition to his current trophies.
He paused, proceeding onward carefully, silently, creeping over the branches with skill and deftness, and then slowly lowering himself to the ground. There, the smell. He'd found it at last. He moved through the undergrowth with feline ease, barely disturbing any plants beneath his clawed feet.
There. He neared his prey.
The massive bear foraged peacefully through a shrub, pulling berries from it for its ravenous maws and gulping them up with sweet content.
Too easy. He chittered lightly to himself, but when that failed to gain the animal's attention he promptly uncloaked, dug his hind talons hard into the ground, and lifted his head. Beneath his mask, mandibles spread, his throat expanded, and he let loose a massive roar. To him the stupid animal greeted a challenge.
To the animal, it found itself trying to defend itself against a death sentence. It stood up on its hind legs, pawing the air lightly, roaring back.
To him it looked like a beckoning.
To the animal, it was an instinct, and attempt to scare away enemies so that it may be left in peace. And the instant the predator charged at the bear, jumping nimbly out of the way of its confused and angry bites and slashes, he was not hunting with the eyes of an animal, a creature hunting for food and perhaps honor with that food.
He was hunting with the eyes of a murderer who had prestige to gain.
And as his wrist blades tore the animal's side- a goading blow rather then one that could have been performed to kill painlessly- the little hunter was ready. The predator's taunting blow was cut short as his rib cage was crushed, his innards brutally wrenched to both sides of the torso. He paused mid-strike as the bear growled in confusion, stumbling backwards and nearly falling over itself.
Then the predator looked down at his rib cage, red eyes wide in astonishment at the green rivulets of his blood that appeared to be running over a thick appendage, a tail perhaps, protruding from his chest. If he could see his back, he would see the tell-tail curved tip of a scorpion tail, only visible in the blood that ran freely over it, like mercury over glass, with no trace left behind.
He had but a millisecond of surprised incomprehension. A millisecond of pain. And then he was yanked brutally to the side, his head and mask crumbling to the almighty strength of a massive tree. It shuddered lightly as he connected with it, but the only crackling came from the twisting metal and the splintering bone of his skull and neck.
He died almost without pain. Instantaneously. The bear lived and ran.
And the little Hunter dropped to the ground, pulling its prey to it and yanking what was left of the mask off. The thick bone of what was left of the scull shattered underneath its all-powerful jaws as it quickly engulfed the brain matter. Normally it would drag its kill off to eat in safety... but it was so hungry...
Even so, its senses were on full alert, listening for the slightest disturbance of an approaching danger. It finished the head and began to gorge itself on the rest of the body. Filled with meat, it proceeded to shred every bone, extracting the marrow and eating it, and then stirring up the dirt, mixing the shards of bone into it. It then jumped nimbly back into the trees, reshaping the clearing with its tail. Its tongue had cleaned up most of the blood. A fluid secreted by the tail had oxidized the rest, causing it to 'dissappear'.
Careful of nature, it had disturbed no plant. Careful of being found out, it had left no trace but the tiny shards of bone. Careful of tracking, its gentle smoothing had left the clearing relatively the same as when she had left.
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It hunts for food, for survival
The little hunter circled the area of grassy plain three times, listening and waiting, watching it critically as all its senses regarded the area around it. Rabbits stirred. Birds chirped from trees and ground. Foxes and wolves and predatory lizards padded silently through the undergrowht. But there were no Yautja. It crept patiently out into the longrass, moving with practiced, silent footfalls. Eventually it reached the mammoth tan rock that jutted from the center of the field and it crept onto the rocky structure, the hunter's hide and its very eyes taking on the yellowish sun-washed color. Its pressed her stomach against the rock, soaking up the heat from the hot sun. Then it curled up, its now tan and whitish wings spreading over its body, and it slept, closing its eyes.
Even then it was not defensless. Its ears and nose worked, picking up on the slightest changes in its enviroment. As it sunbathed and slept it digested, its muscle fibers hardening a micrometer more.
The little hunter emitted no waste product what so ever. Everything it digested was usuable, whether as a poison, an antedote, a mineral or proteins the body need, or an acid. The sun was an energy source on its own. Its heat and light permeated into the little hunter, furthering the creature's energy.
And hours later, when the little hunter had its fill of heat and warmth, it crept out again. Now that there was food, it was still hungry. One measly predator did not fill the stomach so easily.
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It hunts hunters
The two predators moved effortlessly through the forest. They would normally go by tree, cloaked, but this was not a hunting expedition- yet. There was generally no good prey in this area (Though they as yet had not hunted anything but small game) - it was merely a scouting mission, looking for a fellow Yautja (predator) who had come to this vicinity and not returned.
Generally no heed was paid to the fact that a warrior was missing- he could take care of himself- but the fact that he had not returned for four days made for worry, especially because he was the son of a very prominent warrior, and was becoming a very promising hunter.
They wandered throughout the area for some time, moving over several miles of terrain and scanning for any sign of their fellow hunter, both with sight and with technology.
They discovered nothing. No hint of their comrade, neither the tracking signal of his wrist computer, or sight or smell of him. The keenest smells they could pick up were four days old, and left no hint that the Yautja was still in the vicinity. Yet that was strange, where could he have gone, and why? There was to be a great hunt tomorrow, hunting the Kainde Amehda on this planet, and he would not be present-
And then one of them tripped.
Immediately the other young hunter burst out laughing. "Some hunter you are! You trip over your own feet!" The other one growled, jumping to his feet, his wrist blades extending. The other took the hint and growled back, his mandibles flaring dangerously under his mask.
Until the one who tripped looked downward, to discover he had not tripped over his own feet. The jawbone of a predator, expertly planted there by the little hunter, was protruding from the ground. The predator's red eyes widened as he cursed loudly, backing up. The other predator noticed this and blinked, kneeling and uprooting the peice. only the tip of the jaw was intact. The rest had been shreded through like tissue paper. Both Yautja looked at one another, surprized and awed by the power of whatever had crushed through the jawbone. Then unanimously they turned and ran.
They were youth. And caution could be excused. After all, the only other thing that could shred a Yautja like that known to be on this planet was a very, very, very big Kainde Amedha.
The little hunter watched them go. It considered attacking the one who had laughed at the Yautja who had tripped... but no. His heart was not black yet. He was not mad with killing- only eager to please. He had a chance. If it was to eat anything, it would not eat an innocent predator. It would eat an animal.
And thus the hunter brought down a deer. To it, animals ranked up there with the intelligant species of the world. But intelligance could feel emotion, could achieve deeds in ways animals could not. Thus if food was necessary, the hunter would never kill an innocent member of a sentient species.