Embolium i - Bis repetita non placent

"... McCullough, Channel 7 News ..." The voice was cut off as a large finger stabbed at the remote control, blanking the TV screen, before hurling the inoffensive device at the wall. With an explosive "God dammit!" the man turned to face the other occupants of the room.

"Another seven of my guys murdered!" he screamed, spittle flying from his mouth, his face purple with apoplectic rage. The others looked on impassively, they knew the kind of histrionics the speaker was renowned for, and if the truth be told, they themselves had been almost as furious at some point in recent months. The speaker paced up and down for a minute, kicking over a chair as he tried to find some outlet for his anger.

They were meeting in the most secure room of the compound, bare walls and unshaded lightbulbs cold and harsh. Gathered together, they represented the "ruling class" of the city's organized crime. Though such gatherings were rare, given the natural mistrust they had for each other, they had decided long ago that it was wise to occasionally meet to discuss items "of mutual interest". Usually, such items were deciding on the deaths of people, either members of an organization that had wronged another one, or highly placed cops that weren't playing along with turning a blind eye, and whilst this meeting was also about death, it wasn't quite the same thing.

"So what's going on? Is this a takeover?" Issoti slammed his hand down on the table so hard it rocked. "We're all losing people, so it ain't us!"

Monti Issoti represented the various Mafia groups in the city, under his "famiglia" or family. His reputation for flying into uncontrollable rages was legendary, and rumors still floated around of his handling of a local kid that had made the terminal mistake of scratching the side of his car accidentally while skateboarding. Issoti had taken him out to a disused airfield nearby, tied the kid to his skateboard, attached it to the back of the car the kid had scratched, then driven up and down the runway several times until there was nothing left but shreds on the end of the chain.

"So what do we do about this?" Wen Zhang was the youngest one present, and the most disliked. The Chinese Tongs leader was considered arrogant, brash, and overbearing by the rest, quite an accomplishment in and of itself given his peer group. Issoti's reputation for rage was easily surpassed by Wen's reputation for sheer brutality.

"I don't know about you guys but I'm just about done with having someone come along and carve up my people! I've worked too hard to build this up, I'll be damned if I'm going to watch it all get taken down by someone else!" Issoti snarled back.

"You aren't the only one to have lost personnel to these attacks!" Wen retorted hotly, his temper beginning to rise in response to Issoti's.

"We're all losing people equally. It seems obvious that whoever is doing this is trying to wear us down as a whole, rather than individually." Standing in for the Yakuza, Maeda Ito was the newest member of the group, having taken over the Yakuza operations in the city a few months ago when the old boss had been murdered in the same way as the Mafia soldiers tonight had been.

"It makes sense, keep us all off balance so none of us can take advantage of the killings to increase our own control. That way it's easier for them to come in and finish us all off and take over." Issoti pounced on Ito's statement like a drowning man grasping at anything that looks like it will float. This wasn't lost on the other two present, but other than a brief glance at each other, they said nothing about how desperate Issoti sounded.

"I'm not entirely sure that we're dealing with another group trying to replace any of us." Ito noted clinically.

"Why not? We're all being hit, hard. If it isn't someone trying to take over, why are they doing it? It can't be the cops, between us we own the entire force." Issoti's voice started to rise again, but Ito tried to calm the Mafia boss down by keeping calm and analytical.

"At this stage, we don't need to know why they're doing it. We simply need to find out who they are, and eliminate them." Ito had the curious distinction of still being in possession of all of his fingers, quite an accomplishment in an organization that expected you to sever one of your own if you caused offense. It was his attention to detail, his calmness and ability to think his way through problems had saved his fingers, and his life in some instances, on many occasions.

His skills were being tested to the limit by the volatile Italian though. "Now why didn't I think of that? Damn, I must be getting old or something. WHAT DO YOU THINK WE'RE DOING HERE?"

Ito realized that trying to maintain any semblance of calm was a lost cause right now, and shot back with "You know that losing your temper will not help you?" He was well known as being fond of using poison to kill people, and he wondered idly for a moment just how difficult it would be to slip some into the prodigious amounts of pasta this fool ate.

"It's not like anything else is helping us either right now. We're losing a war and we don't even know who we're fighting yet!" Issoti's bulk, a contribution of the amount of pasta he ate, didn't allow for his voice to become shrill, but that was likely the only reason. Both Ito and Wen thought Issoti tried to hard to be the quintessential mafia boss, but neither of them understood that, having been brought up on bad TV shows and movies, Issoti truly believed that he was behaving in the finest traditions of the mafia.

Ito tried once more to rationalize his idea to Issoti. "As I suggested, the first step is to find out who our enemy is. Once we know that, we will have a better idea of how to deal with them."

"And how do you suggest we find out? Magic? Ouija board? Psychics?" Issoti's scorn was obvious, but he was beginning to calm down, and returned to his seat to glower at Ito.

"I was thinking more about the idea of bait."

Wen looked up in curiosity. "Bait?"

"Yes. We know that our enemies are somehow finding our larger establishments. So, we simply need to create one, and monitor it. Eventually, they will go there and attack it, and we will finally get to see who our mysterious enemies are."

Issoti wasn't to be outdone in this 'planning session', and brought up a surprising point "You know that whoever is in that place is going to end up dead, just like the rest, right?"

Ito's reply was quite calm, and equally as cold, showing the ruthlessness that had earned him his inheritance of his predecessor's position.

"Of course, however such sacrifices are necessary."

"Then what do we do?"

"Then we kill them, of course." Wen remarked coldly. His preferred method of killing was to beat people to death using his bare hands, or any handy solid object he found nearby. He seemed to revel in the sheer destruction he wreaked on the bodies of those he eventually killed, but none of them ever went quietly to that death, and all were begging for mercy, or more commonly for mercy killing, long before he allowed them to die.

Issoti thought about this for a minute, then made his pronouncement as if this was all his idea to begin with.

"Fine, let's do it. Who gets to pick the sacrificial lambs?"

"To be fair, I think perhaps each of us should donate equal amounts of resources." Ito responded calmly. He knew that the wisest course of action, which naturally he would come up with, would be the one the others would follow.

He had his own plans about the outcome, however.


Embolium ii - Ubi maior, minor cessat

"Honored Elder, I still don't understand."

The red-tint to the walls of the chamber would have made the pale skins of the occupants look somewhat sickly to human eyes, but to the heat-sensitive vision of the hunters, it was warm, inviting, and comfortable. The four tall rocky pillars squaring off the center of the area rose out of the low-lying vapor mist like sentinels, guarding and bordering this place. Between each of the pillars, two hunters rested, seven of them crouched easily in positions of attention, the eighth standing as it spoke with the taller hunter, who stood in the center of the arena their placement created. The Elder turned to the one that had spoken, clicking a response to the bewildered guttural growls.

"If someone attacked you after a hunt while you were collecting the trophies of your prey, would you consider them honorable?"

The hunter cocked its head to one side for a moment, as it considered the question. Like all of the hunters, it was tall, over seven feet in human terms, although the leader topped it by at least another foot of height. The hunter's pale yellow skin was mottled with brown and dark purple, near black blotches, and it flexed its arm muscles almost unconsciously while it thought of an answer.

"No, but this wasn't Yautja, it's just a pyode amedha ..."

The Elder snorted, the four crab-like mandibles surrounding its mouth twitching inwards, before it started reciting a list scornfully.

"A human who successfully hunted three kainde amedha, and knows of Yautja enough to have neutralized a destruct device, to use our weapons, A human who recognized and acted with respect to an elder, and returned something she did not earn for a trophy. Knows enough of us to know of trophies, and to remind us of the reason why we take them, even ones from humans, her own kind."

One of the other hunters stood quickly, the braids on its head swinging wildly from the sudden movement.

"She deserved to die for her words! Female or not, she took up weapons and so declared herself to be prey, and no human should dare to criticize a Yautja!" it angrily blurted, before looking at the shocked faces of its companions. Shamefacedly, it went down to one knee in a gesture of submission, mortified at this breach of etiquette. The Elder looked to the muscle-flexing hunter, which shook its head imperceptibly. The Elder turned and regarded the impulsive hunter for a moment, its close and deep-set eyes cold and calculating, before responding.

"Calm yourself. You are correct, she has removed any right to not be hunted by taking up weapons, however I believe her words were meant to warn us not to underestimate her. If she knows of Yautja customs, it is possible that she wished to remove an advantage she may have held over us when we hunt her, not taking her seriously as worthy prey." The impulsive hunter nodded slowly, all the time gently fingering the eye sockets of one of the human skulls it wore on its waist.

One of the other hunters rose to its feet, and both the muscle flexing and impatient hunters crouched down. It seemed that the protocol for this meeting was for each hunter to stand and wait for permission to speak..

"Why would she throw away such an advantage, Elder?" it asked, curiously. The Elder answered the question promptly, but the undertones to its voice showed its thought was hesitant, almost as if guessing.

"Perhaps so that the hunt would be more of a worthy challenge for her? It would be an act worthy of a Yautja, perhaps she has adopted our ways and simply was behaving properly." The hunter looked skeptical.

"Humans have won hunts in the past, they are still prey." it commenting matter-of-factly. The Elder nodded in agreement, but looked at the impulsive hunter as she replied.

"And one who can best three of the kainde amedha is at the very least honored prey. No, there is something going on. She has met Yautja before, and has learned enough of us to at least show respect and manners. She knew that honor would prevent our hunting her there." The Elder paused, lost in thought. The hunters waited patiently, with respect, until finally it came to a decision.

"I want to know more about her before I decide what shall be done. I would very much like to know how she learned of us, and to determine how much she adheres to our ways, as she seems to do. When I decide that she is to be hunted, you may challenge the others for the right to hunt her, but for now, she is to be considered inviolate. Do any of you wish to challenge my decision on this?"

"No Honored Elder." the hunters chorused.

"Good. Now what is the status of the remaining kainde amedha?" The hunter that had been matter of fact about the human's status as prey rose to its feet once more.

"Elder, of the fifteen that were hatched, eight have been slain. We have still been unable to locate where they are nesting, save that it is somewhere in the general area of this night." The Elder nodded.

"And what news on the reason they are here in this city and not where the eggs were sent?"

"We discovered the first stage implanters at the correct location, however we found tracks of some form of large ground vehicle, as well as evidence of a pyode amedha encampment nearby. Following those tracks, and a chemical signature presumably produced by the drive mechanism of the transport, we were led to the area of the hunt last night."

"So you believe the kainde amedha were implanted in humans, who traveled here after they awoke?"

"Yes Elder, that is the most rational explanation." The Elder began pacing up and down within the area enclosed by the pillars and the hunters. It stopped close to one of the pillars, black claw tips of one hand gently stroking across the engraved surface.

"It is a pity that the controlled hunting grounds for this have all been lost. We must find the rest of the hive and hunt them down. I will not be seen as responsible for the loss of an entire planet's worth of hunting grounds." it mused, half to itself.

"Elder?" the Elder turned back to face the matter-of-fact hunter.

"The kainde amedha have no queen yet. It will take time before the absence of one will trigger one of the drones to begins it's metamorphosis to become a queen. We must hunt them down before that metamorphosis can be completed. With a queen producing eggs, they will be able to implant untold numbers of humans, and if the kainde amedha gain a strong enough foothold on this world, pyode amedha will effectively become extinct."

"I understand, Elder. We shall find them."

"I expect nothing less of you. Perhaps ..." The Elder's face took on a definite thoughtful look, its head cocked to one side and eyes staring off into space as if looking for something beyond vision. After a few minutes, the matter-of-fact hunter spoke up deferentially.

"Elder?" The Elder remained silent for a moment longer, and the matter-of-fact hunter was considering asking once more when it finally shook its head a few times.

"A thought, nothing more. Return to your hunt for the kainde amedha nest."

"Yes, Elder" the hunters chorused once more, and with silent grace belying their bulk, they left the chamber to be about their task.


Embolium iii - Tarde venientibus ossa

The door from the balcony was no challenge. It took a matter of moments for the locks to be bypassed, using tools that would leave no marks behind. Padding softly into the living room of the apartment, it made less noise than the breeze that blew once, rustling the curtains briefly before the door was closed once more.

It paused, listening in the darkness, its senses alive, until it was sure that the figure in the bedroom was deep asleep, then entered. Its gaze rested on the sleeping figure under the covers, sleeping a dreamless sleep punctuated every few minutes with a soft moan of pains, some remembered and some new. Silent as a sigh, a faint ticking noise echoed through the room, but other than a twitch of one leg, it slept on undisturbed by the presence of the intruder.

Gliding across the floor, the shape reached the wall, and after a moment's examination pressed against it, gently, holding it against the rebound of the latches un-clipping. It let the door swing open part way, and gazed inside, adjusting its view until the contents rose into sharp relief, the light outside the apartment giving more than enough illumination to its enhanced sense.

It crouched down and tugged open the drawer below the mask, and ran a finger through the contents of the compartments. It paused in its examination as it came across four shiny objects, noting their newness, before it straightened up once more, closing the drawer. Just before closing the closet door on the secret place, it ran a hand lightly across the surface of the mask, then stepped back, sealing away the secrets within once more.

It took one final look towards the sleeping figure, before turning, fluffing the carpet to hide the pressure marks where it had stood, and retraced its steps to the balcony door. Just as it left the apartment, a soft voice could be barely heard, it was so low. Anyone who had been awake enough, close enough, to hear it, would have taken so long to try and understand what it had said that the figure would have been long gone.

Female, it breathed "not yet".