Vir Vaughn II: The Games

by VaanRagnarok

The second part in the story of Alan Vaughn, a synthetic marine who has been thrust into a harsh reality he never could have imagined. He has been captured by the Predators, and now must survive their brutal agenda.

7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: from the fog

The large scarred predator sat atop an equally impressive chair. He looked through various files on a small computer touch-screen hanging down in front of him. A young looking predator in basic looking armor rushed onto the bridge of the giant predator ship, and up to the scarred predator. "Sir, there has been a problem with the ooman's trials..." he spoke in his own language. "What?!" The scarred predator pushed the screen aside and sat up in his chair. "Sir... the shuttle pod that the ooman took had a... minor malfunction..." "what do you mean a minor malfunction?" "We are not sure as of yet sir, but something happened to the shuttle" the scarred predator leaped up from his chair and grabbed the much smaller alien by the neck and lifted him a full foot off of the ground. The young predator chocked and his eyes bulged out. "You will find out what happened to my ooman, or I will have your mandibles on a platter!" He threw the predator to the ground and he sat back in his chair and cursed to himself as the young one scurried away.

Vaughn drew his knives as the cloaked predator drew closer. The synthetic took a few steps back called to the figure. "I see you, you know. A-are you hear for the test?..." He predator uncloaked and his appearance was reviled. Tall and lanky, not unlike some of the others he had seen. He wore little armor, a chest plate that only covered the left half of his chest, a small shoulder pad on his right shoulder, and a large one on his right. Gauntlets and shin guards of similar design to each other, smooth with a few ridges. He wore a dark gray kilt with leather straps cress-crossed at the waist. On the end of the straps were the only weapons besides the wrist blades he had, two disks, finger holes in the center of them along with a few buttons. His entire armor was a Very light gray, almost white. Its mask was smooth, with a black line vertically through either eye. He spoke with a solid confidence; a pure and unfaltering tone that seemed like it flowed straight from stone. "Ooman, I am your test."