She took a seat in the grass, on an edge of a clearing which had a direct view of the waterfall, and on the moss were bright colored flowers. This section of the cliff was ungated and off-trail. Once she snapped the picture, she quickly plucked the flower, crawling back into the safety of the flat grassy plane. That's all she needed was a close shot and a firm study subject. Now it was finally high time she pulled out her large, 18 by 24in sketchbook from her bag and her vine charcoal. This was perfect, the gentle breeze, finally getting to throw off her deadbeat slides and put her dirty socks in the grass and relax, no Patrick, no snobby Angela, and her gang and no Shana-stealing, art prince Christian Buyers. Just messy vine charcoal and rough penciling of each of the flowers flaws and natural perfections
The day was going to turn this trip around for the better.
—
5:00pm
Patrick had been hanging with the two girls for long enough and decided it was time to go join his teammate with a quick jog to 307 to work on his project as well, upon exiting the forest clearing over by route 270 he was stopped by a bunch of men in finely tailored suits.
'What the? Since when did camp security get a revamp?'
They usually wore different greens and tans based on the season, as this ground was available all year round except sometimes where the weather was going to be extremely bad. Like little Cassandra Faust with her slides and bright colors they looked out of place to be at a big hiking site. He started to feel bad, Cassandra was younger than him, and looked more ready to bust a move in a girl group at a roller rink than hike trails for a flower that just might be out of season if he times his trip wrong, this was October after all. But she was not here where he left her, so it meant that she hiked her little ass up there or gave up and went back to camp. He made his way over to the men and, just as he thought, they weren't going to let him pass.
"Good evening, gents. Is there a reason these trails are closed off or are you sexy men just here to make a camping fashion statement?" He used his favorite gay accent where he pressed his tongue to his teeth to accentuate all his S's and Th sounds.
He hoped maybe they were just cosplayers for a MIB (Men in Black) movie
"Sorry about the intrusion," one of the men said, ashy blonde hair with a naturally mean mug that rivaled any Call Of Duty General he could ever think of, talk about Soap on a Rope. "Sorry, son. these roads are closed off. One of the Transmission towers went down, and the surrounding towers may have been affected. For the safety of the campers route 500, all the way to 300 have been closed until further notice." Patrick then looked to the other man, who remained silent, occasionally checking his earpiece.
"You telling me you guys got a signal? I barely get a bar out here if I'm lucky. I have a young friend up there I need to find, she's somewhere over by 307."
He had tried to move around them but they didn't budge. "Everyone has been evacuated, there was a tower that had gone down in the middle of the trails."
"But she probably just made it up there, someone has to get her. I'm the only one who knows my way back here. she could be lost up there for all you know, let me go up there I promise I'm not lying."
"I'm sorry son, I can't do that, I'll alert staff over by the 300s to keep a lookout for a little girl, what does she look like?"
"She's short and, like, well she's kinda cute but she's too evil to be considered hot, I saw her scream at Eric in high school and I almost had a heart attack. She has long hair and she looks like she belongs in a girl group at a roller rink."
"That doesn't tell us anything, son." The man beside the ashy blond was a crisp dark chocolate-colored man with a nearly shaved head, even still His hairline was absolutely pristine. "Units by 307, there are reports of girl missing over by that path."
"Bernadette and I Just came from that path, no one was on the trails or by the clearing of the falls, there's something going down by 500, though, focus coms over there," the voices were faint through the earpiece but loud enough for Pat to get an understanding of what was going on, she wasn't there, she probably gave up.
"Just when I thought she cared about her assignment." He murmured.
"I have to ask you to head back to camp too, son."
Pat nodded and threw his art bag over his shoulder and began the long jog down. He would be sure to mock little Cassie when he got back down, even though he didn't even start on his own assignment. That was alright, dinner would be going down at 7-8 anyways then he could take a nap and look at one of the flowers online and whip something up when everybody was asleep. Plus he needed to lay down, he doesn't know if it was all the water he chugged but he started to get a really bad stomach cramp. Was this Kharma?
"Nah, you're perfect Patrick," he said to himself. Holding his stomach lightly as he jogged back.
"Bernadette, what's the status of the transportation of the asset?"
"They had some hold-ups, but the tall ugly one is heading to the lab now, should I check back at route 300 for that girl?"
"No, if she sees anything we'll have to take her, let her find her own way out if she's there, but she's most likely back at camp with the others like he said."
"Art kids are weird, ain't they?" Taylor groaned
"I like the Twitter artists who draw pin-up girls." Bernadette laughed half-heartedly but silenced after the lack of reaction.
"Nice shot, X'ol." The leader-brother had groaned angrily as he scaled the trees above Salvak. Chasing after the traitor.
X'ol growled below him, chasing the hard meat who hissed and ran beside them.
"It's being called, it must have a tracker in it!"
"How is that possible."
"They had help." X'ol growls.
"What do you mean?" Salvak growls. Flinging his body to the side to avoid X'ol's second shot at the hard meat and the traitor that ran alongside him, their camouflage all fazing them into the background except for the injured traitor who's camo flickered from ranges and patches of visibility and invisibility. Even still he wouldn't give up, even with his injured leg the smaller traitor was exceptionally fast.
X'ol revved up the plasma cannon once more
"What happened to the X'ol with the top canon accuracy?" Salvak growled, "because he's not here."
"Silence, Oaf. I'm a sniper, and it's not like you subdued him yet."
"You fight like a mated couple." Leader brother groaned into the coms at them.
"We do not!" Both Salvak and X'ol shot back.
"I need a clear shot!" X'ol growled
"You want a clear shot?" Salvak interjected. "nan-de than-gaun!"
The brutish Salvak snatched up his running brother and in a combination of stopping abruptly and planting his claws into the earth, he caught him and with X'ol's running momentum, swung his brother until he went flying forward into the air.
The flying yautja was stunned in surprise only to take the initiative to fire again. Now even though it was utterly random the shot was now clear.
He could not afford to be surprised or angry only to take the shot. Before he shook the ground with the shot that spit the trees from the earth and brought them slamming back down into the path of the hard meat. Temporarily stunning the traitor before crashing down himself with a roll and a sharp exhale of lost breath.
"That's more like it! " Salvak churned, running past his fallen brother as X'ol shook off the slight dizziness of being tumbled about like a fish out of water that has been thrown by a large brute of a yautja without warning.
It didn't take him long to get back on his feet and back to the action of the chase, now that they've stunned them the gap between them was closed and they were toe to toe with both the hard meat and the traitor.
The traitor doesn't even turn his head before the cannon on his shoulder Rotates and faces the two behind him
"Get down!" X'ol grabs Salvak and tackles him as the blast erupts from the cannon, faster than what his technology was used to anticipating. He could almost feel a fiery singe on his dreds.
"That cannon does not belong to him." He growls
"How can you tell?" they jump back to their feet once more and get back on the run.
"Those were built for fighting hive on their home planets."
"And he just casually has one?" Salvak roared, "that must take time to master, that must be why his aim was just as suboptimal as yours."
"It won't be suboptimal when I pierce your skull with it!" X'ol hissed back, shooting his net out from his gauntlet out towards the running hard meat. It snapped around it and set it to the ground, while the traitor took upwards into the trees again.
Salvak heaved a heavy breath growling louder into the coms.
"Leader brother, he's headed right towards your path.!" He had to finally stop and groan in annoyance, before diverting his attention back to the infant, slamming his palms into its neck to restrain it once out of the net already doubling in size. It looked almost like a fully grown adult. X'ol stood on its back awkwardly, quickly tying it up in shock chains to subdue to return it to the ship.
X'ol inhaled the adrenaline he had been waiting for too long and held the mutated hard meat in place.
We caught it, brother, do you want back up?
Take it back to the ship quickly, I will kill him myself.
Save some for us brother, X'ol Scoffed.
Be quick then, I can't promise anything.
That was when he switched his coms off completely, going radio silent.
X'ol hissed and yanked the young hard meat into submission, recalibrating his cloaking alongside Salvak as they made their way to the hidden ship.
"What plans did they have with this? " Salvak cocked his head to the side with a grunt.
"Nothing good." X'ol growled, "If you ever throw me again, I'll kill you in your sleep."
"I'll accept that challenge," Salvak clicked his tusks inside his helmet in a snicker.
—
Celtac groaned in agony.
Katalac, where are you?
Katalac roared in response.
Turn around, you fool! He hissed. You're heading right in the direction of the lab.
"they're here, I am outnumbered. I need backup!"
Turn around and evade, I'm on my way. He groaned and hissed as he dropped from the trees and headed for his brother.
The nameless blood warrior stood in the middle of the Forest clearing panting deeply as he extended the long sharpened blades from his gauntlets.
"Come here, Coward!." He roared. "Come and die a coward's death!"
There was an eerie silence in the woods and he began to scan the area with his thermo technology, there were no traces of the other Yautja in the ground around him
"It's too bad, Big brother." The low voice mockingly echoes through the woods and the yautja looks up into the trees abruptly, searching for the smallest trace.
A beam from a plasma cannon shoots out and he slides to the right aiming his own gun from his shoulders, anything inside of the blast is a smoldering black nothing, the trees in its path falling down behind him crumbling mostly in ash. His cannon waves side to side in search for the hidden marksman he flips his datapad to cloak but is faltered by another shot, echoing from the other side of him, having to roll over to the other side and run behind the thick trees in the path of the blast.
"Hiding, even with a stolen warlord Plasma Caster? How fitting." he tried again to cloak from behind the thick old tree in front of him. He watched as he began to cloak only for the gear to hiss and bring him back to visibility.
"Pauk...Seriously? " he groaned in frustration.
"If you were my brother, maybe I would be stronger, my loyalties would lie in a different place," Celtac Murmured from the trees. "Then I wouldn't have to feel bad about murdering one of my den mates."
"You are not my brother, you are a coward, and a traitor to your own kind. You don't belong to this clan and you do not belong to anything but your own calling to death."
"I knew that's what you would say, it's too bad I have to prove you wrong, C'Jck Cbrahr."
The yautja paused, he had not heard his name since the death of his teammates in their trial, before it was sworn away.
Celtic did not give his so-called brother any time to move as he dropped down on top of him from the branches and dug his dagger downwards, he roared, the cracking sound of the heavy material of his helmet shrieked before he dropped backward and flipped Celtic over off of his back, the plasma caster on his shoulder when to aim at him but the nameless brother already fired, the cannon exploding off of Celtics shoulder and sent him rolling back into the trees. Celtic roared and rushed to stand his wound from Salvak stabbing Him in the back of the knee reopening with a rip of his medigel. He stumbled and screeched.
"You say my name like you know who I am." The yautja growled. "How disrespectful."
Celtac rolled over and threw his disc into the taller Yautja blaster, the rest of what was left of his mask was severed and knocked the larger warrior over onto the floor.
When he had seen the Yautja become limp, Celtac had begun to bellow in laughter. Limping now with his reopened wounds, he caught the smart disc in his claw and prepared to finish the kill.
"But I do know you brother, after all, we come from the same father…." he slowly kneeled with a wince as his weakened bones began to splinter more and more from each movement. "When we turn the humans back to its primitive slave race I will tell him how weak you proved to be."
—
Roxanne Carter groaned, her feet up on the unsanded desk in front of her, overlooking the forest below. She was waiting up in the watchtower alone, growing rather impatient.
He was supposed to be here almost two hours ago.
"Roxxy," Timothy had run in, out of breath, "radio the security at site 4, there was a series of explosions off-road by route 507, tell them to evacuate any campers on the trails."
She gasped. What if her secret date just so happened to be blown up into smitherines. Sure she only liked him partially but those trips and cruises was her only real escape from reality and working at this stupid camp as she has for the past five years.
"What Happened? Is everyone okay?"
Timothy shook his head his short curly brown locks followed in his motion, he seemed at a complete loss.
"I have no clue, there are rumors that an electrical tower short circuited and sent off a chain reaction, all communications from 500 down have been severed."
She lunges toward the tower radio.
"Watchtower 7 to Site 4 Security, come in Site 4 security."
Timothy leans over Roxy's shoulder in anticipation. Minutes passed as they sat in silence.
"Try again, make sure you're on the right frequency."
"What do you take me for?" She hissed, even still she double-checked to make sure she was on the right channel. The channel and frequency was accurate leaving the question of where Site 4 has been lounging about.
Timothy reaches over and grabbed the walkie from the radio
"Hey, this is Watchtower 7 to Site 4 security, do you copy?"
He only waited a minute and a half before screaming into the receiver as well as Roxannes eardrums.
"WATCHTOWER SEVEN TO SITE FOUR, WHERE ARE YOU SITE FOUR, THIS IS A CODE ORANGE EMERGENCY COMMUNICATIONS HAVE BEEN SEVERED FROM ROUTE 500 DOWN. HELLO?"
"Stop it you stupid tangerine, what difference does it make whether your loud or not!"
"I dyed my hair orange one time Roxxy! One time, so stop calling me that!"
Roxanne huffed and they both stared out at the quiet static
"Did the towers take out all the communication lines?"
"I don't know, I hope not."
All they could do is wait.
"Should we check site 6?"
"I don't know, why wouldn't they have gotten in touch with us yet?"
"When I was over at 5 when they had been shut off, 6 is farther out than we are here at 7."
"Then did it knock all communications out?"
"Then what now? Are we just gonna be stuck here for the next five hours?"
"I guess so…"
"So, when's that sugar daddy of yours coming?"
Roxanne turned around and started to hit him and he screamed and ran around the watchtower to escape the long lecture that awaited him.
The helmetless Yautja brought his dagger into Celtics gut and yanked it out, causing him to roar and fall back onto the ground beside him.
The Amber eyes of the larger predator glowed with a bittersweet satisfaction.
"'m sorry you were born to be so useless, may you face judgment by our fallen ancestors as you pass on into the next realm without honor."
He grabbed the smart disc that once belonged to Celtac and stepped on his throat, sticking his claws into the false denmate's eye sockets, yanking out both his skull and spine from his body.
A trophy out of a traitor, as promised. The spider's appetite had been satiated for now. But the web was only unwinding.
He now had some questions for the man he recognized as his father, but for now, it would have to wait. Usually, he would cover his tracks with the blue liquid given to them by the elders, but he let the headless corpse lay there; to send a message to the fallen traitor's stained creed.
He collected his broken mask from the ground and attached it to his belt, alongside the spine of the traitor to be cleansed later into a trophy.
He reached to his gauntlet which creaked and zapped suspiciously, he groaned in annoyance, ejecting his tool kit from his belt to fiddle with it on the trek uphill to locate the ship and restore communication.
—
Shana looked out at the mountains with worry.
"Cassandra hasn't come back yet…"
Angela pulled her hair back into a ponytail and yawned, turkey sandwich in hand, phone in the other, taking pictures of her work in progress from
their hike.
"Who was her partner?" She simply asked, editing the pictures to perfection to add to her Instagram once they had signal again.
"Uh, Patrick wasn't it?"
"Maybe he's got her wrapped around her finger, you know what kind of man he is."
Shana stared down at the black-haired Goddess with a tinge of annoyance.
"No, I Don't. And you clearly don't know Cassandra."
"I've known her just as long as you have."
"Being in the same room for a semester does not mean anything."
"Well, why aren't they sucking face somewhere? It would only make sense. Patrick is a heavy flirt."
"You're forgetting the fact that we're talking about the Semi-Holy-feminist, Queen of Cold Cassandra Faust?"
"I thought that was just a rumor, is she really a man-hating Nun?"
Shana had to pause.
"No, she just isn't with all that sucking face kind of stuff I guess. She's old-fashioned, is all."
"What does that mean?" Angela has now put her phone down, Shana was dishing some info about Cassandra, besides being a clumsy, quiet girl, she didn't know much else from her semester-length acquaintance with Cassandra.
Shana saw this stance and paused.
Everything she might say could be held against her in the court of Cassandra.
It's not like she'd be telling super personal information like Cassandra being in the Bowling club for four years straight in high school, a sworn secret told at a study-based sleepover earlier in the semester. Why was it a sworn secret? Because it was merged with the anime and Anthro club and they all wore dog and cat ears and Sailor moon costumes for three weeks straight. She still couldn't wrap her head around the idea of Cassandra in cosplay.
"Uh, Shana?" Angela leaned away from her sandwich to stare up at her.
Shana pulled herself away from the fantasy of a catgirl Sailor Mercury-themed Cassandra Faust.
"Yeah, what?"
Angela rolled her eyes and went back to her sandwich.
"Quit spacing out, will ya?"
Shana shrugged and yawned. "Sorry, I'm tired."
"I know, that hot professor better gets to flipping those burgers soon or I'll pass out right now."
Shana Slumps over the wooden table and sighs "tell me about it."
"So, what were you saying about Cassandra, why doesn't she like Patrick?"
"Because Patrick is an asshole, Cassandra is allergic to those breeds of men."
"Then I bet she must hate buyers."
"What, you think so?" Shana shot up like a rocket, little to Angela's surprise. Shana knew that Cassandra didn't like him because she knew about her secret crush on him, but she didn't actually hate Christian, did she?
"Well, he is one of the most handsome assholes in the entire campus," Angela added, smiling faintly.
Shana looked down in thought.
"Well as long as he doesn't get in the way of her work I don't think she cares."
Angela did a secret high-five to herself in her head. One more out of the competition. Cassandra has curves, and curves were in this season, but as a holier than thou feminist she would have no business being cuddled up with yummy Boi buyers. Angela chuckles slowly to herself and Shana looks at her in confusion.
"What's so funny?"
"Just excited for dinner."
Shana blinked before putting her head down against the wood table.
'Hopefully, Cassandra is okay'.
To be continued...
Preddy language of the day
nan-de than-gaun: Show them no Mercy "then I'll show you no mercy."
In this case, Salvak refers to X'ol as he throws him into the air. Meaning, in human terms. "You want it? then I'll show no mercy in giving you just that."
Pauk: putting it plain and simple he's just saying Fuck
a/n why wasn't this posted? I had this chapter ready a while ago and it never went up. sorry about the inconvenience. a new chapter should be out shortly.