+++++HUNTING++DREAMS++PART 2+++++

Isabelle turned to the others, who hadn't moved too far away. "Royce! You need to hear this!"

Obedient, but obviously irritated (though he rarely showed any other expression) Royce came back and looked between the three. "What?"

Nova swallowed and repeated herself. "I know who took us."

"What?! Why haven't you said?" Stans yelled.

"I only just figured it out. There's a lot of possibilities to go through." Nova defended herself. "Capable of mid-high technology, including invisibility and space travel. Hunter/Warrior society or culture. And the deadfall gave me approximate mass, but I was estimating everything when I did those calculations—0.75 is only the average for most planets, not all of them!—and, and I didn't use a measuring tape for length, width, or diameter, and if I had been even a little off, then it would've gotten everything wrong, because it was all based on that, and what if I needed four or five decimals of pi instead of two? And who knows what else needed more exact numbers and it was only an estimation and—"

"Alright, alright. Calm down." Royce interrupted the girl, holding up a hand to stop the babble. "Calm down." With his other hand, he grabbed the girl's shoulder and shook her slightly, though not harshly, to help get her out of her panic. He didn't know what else to do that might help. He had next to no experience helping civilians calm down. He was usually the reason they were panicking.

Isabelle had also gone to the girl's side and used one arm to hold Nova, giving comfort. "Shhhh…breathe. Breathe. It's alright. I'm sure your numbers were fine. Breathe. That's it."

Nova took deep breaths under the pair's instructions, nodding when she finally got a hold of herself. "Sorry. Sorry."

"It's fine. You good?" She nodded at Royce's gruff question. "Good. Now, tell us what you figured out."

She took another breath, then looked up into the trees. Scanning for the tell-tale shimmer in the air, but seeing none, she looked back at the others. "They call themselves the Yautja, but most call them Hunters or Predators."

"Why?" Cuchillo asked with an upward chin twitch.

Nova shrugged. "It's what they do. Their whole society is built upon the principles of hunting and honor."

Nikolai was next, "What honor is there in kidnapping others?" To which Cuchillo glared at him, as kidnapping and ransom was a way of life in his part of the world.

Nova looked uncomfortable. "Their honor system is both simple and complex. As to why they took you all, it's because you are warriors and predators yourselves." She gave them all an apologetic expression. "They want to hunt you…as worthy game."

"There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter." Royce said.

Isabelle looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "That's pretty poetic. Did you come up with that all by yourself?"

"Ernest Hemingway said that, actually," Nova corrected. "In 'On the Blue Water'. He was one of the first American snipers." She gave a soft sad smile as she thought of the man. "He was nice to me, in a gruff sort of way. Good at chess."

The others looked at her. Stans was the one who said what they were thinking. "You're one crazy bitch." Then he grinned. "The crazy ones are the best."

Nova gave a soft squeak, stepping closer to Isabelle and Royce. The other woman redirected the conversation. "What else can you tell us about these ya-oot-ja?" she pronounced the word carefully.

The redhead shrugged. "What else do you want to know? I can tell you lots, but I'm not sure that much of it is relevant to our situation."

Edwin looked at her and cleaned his glasses again. "How do you know all this?"

"My guardian taught me all the major races I could run into, or that were really dangerous, first. Made me memorize their characteristics, society, everything. Just in case."

"You said space travel." Royce said suddenly, recalling a detail she'd mentioned. "So when you say 'major races', what you really mean is…" he prompted.

Nova winced, but nodded. "Ummm…yeah. Yautja are one of many non-terrestrial lifeforms."

"What?" Stans grouched. "English, bitch!"

"Aliens. They're aliens." Edwin translated. "As in, from another planet."

Nova nodded again, looking at Royce and Isabelle. Both of whom noted how she kept Edwin in her sight, but pretended he didn't say anything most of the time. The redhead really didn't like him. "I think I can get a message to someone who might be able to help us, but I need to know where we are. Which planet."

Royce watched her, linking the details in his mind to reach an easy conclusion: Nova was not human herself and she was afraid of what they would do if they figured it out. She was trying to make herself useful so that they wouldn't turn on her. Or perhaps it was just her personality to help in any way she could. Honestly, he didn't care what species was, as long as she could help him get off this rock and back to civilization. Something he recognized as civilization anyway. "Sounds like a plan. What do you need?"

Her face perked with enthusiasm. As if it were a puzzle she were eager to solve. "Some distinguishing characteristics unique to this planet. And I could triangulate our position based on the stars when night falls, even if I can't find any unique features before then."

"Then let's move. You can tell us more about these hunters while we walk." He didn't even try to pronounce the species name, it being an insignificant bit of information, while he motioned to the left and they all moved out again; Royce and Isabelle in the lead, with Nova between them, the rest following.

"Alright. What do you want to know?" Nova asked. "What would be relevant information?"

Royce sighed, having to remember that the girl—and that panicked babble had certainly pounded in how young and inexperienced the kid had to be—was a civilian and didn't understand that even the smallest detail could be significant. "Everything."

"Oh," she paused as if gathering her thoughts. "Well, they have familial clans, which are all matriarchal. It's why they don't really hunt females all that often. Some clans are in feuds that matter and others aren't. Like some North American Indian tribes, some yautja clans steal as a type of sport between them—especially the younger ones in the clans as a way to sharpen their skills—while other clans are in blood feuds to the death, though that's much rarer. Each clan is known for specific things, like different armor or favoring different weapons. Though all of the clans function on a hierarchical caste system for the males. Then there's the Bad Bloods, the ones that break their laws, which the Arbitrators take care of. But while there isn't an overarching government, per say, they still have a semi-governing body in the Arbitrators themselves, and each clan has a Council of Elders, and then the females have their own system that work in parallel to, but separate from, the male side. Though the Female Council is hardly ever convened, because they only really get involved if there's a giant problem that will affect the whole race. They're the ones who make treaties with other races. Most of the time, if there's a problem, you go to the clan's Council, or you can petition an Arbitrator."

As she spoke, pausing as needed to go over downed trees or over streams, they had moved out of the overwhelming jungle setting and into a more temperate climate. The trees were thinner, paler, though no less tall. The grass and ferns were still waist high. It was just slightly cooler.

"You said they didn't hunt females," Mombasa gestured to Nova and Isabelle in askance.

Nova nodded, biting her lip anxiously with a large dollop of confusion. "They really don't. Unless the female has a weapon and attacks them first. Their honor code forbids it. They don't hunt the ill, the very young, the very old—unless it's a hunt to feed themselves, which is when they kill the weakest—or those that can't defend themselves. They also won't hunt those that, if removed, would result in the death of another, such as mothers of small children, or pregnant." She took a breath. "Because of that, since it is more than a little difficult for them to figure out if a female is caring for another, they tend to stay away from females altogether."

"So they took Isabelle because she is a good predator and has a weapon."

The redhead sighed. "Or possibly, because they couldn't tell that she was female." She winced apologetically at the woman. "Sorry, but they are another species. Sometimes its hard for them to tell different sexes."

Stans couldn't help himself. "You could always take off your shirt and expose those pretty titties."

Nova however, surprised them all by nodding. "Actually, that would help. Since their females do have something akin to breasts to feed their newborns. The reason its so hard for them to differentiate the sexes is because their females are around eight or nine feet average. Much larger than the males." Then she gestured. "However, that would only really help if Isabelle also took off all her weapons. As long as she has the means to defend herself, its assumed that she has the ability and is thus fair game, worthy prey."

Isabelle was running this through her mind. "Nova, you are not carrying a weapon."

"Nor am I pregnant," Nova agreed with a sigh. "It's why I'm more than a little worried. Well, one of the reasons."

"What're the other reasons?" Royce demanded instantly.

She sighed again. "You are all from different parts of the world…and they brought us here. That just…isn't done. Especially for humans."

"Meaning?"

"Humans are…special. They call humans 'soft meat', which is a compliment. Humans are intelligent, capable of abstract reasoning, rapid adaptation, and complicated problem solving. So even though Yautja are stronger physically and technologically, they respect humans as combat equals. A lot of the time, they use humans as a training tool for their younger members, to help them learn how to hunt better." She took a breath. "Which is about the only legitimate reason I can think of for them to bring us to another planet. Usually, to make the hunt more equal, more honorable, they hunt the chosen humans in their own territory. Evens the odds, so to speak."

"Explain their capabilities," Royce instructed. "Physical and technological. Weapons. Characteristics."

"Males hunt. They are about seven feet tall on average, with a high density of muscle mass. The older they get, the bulkier they get. Not fat, just larger. Their skin is denser than ours. You could shoot them a lot and it wouldn't slow them down long, if at all."

"Depends on where you aim," Isabelle murmured.

Nova paused, looking at her with wide eyes for a second before turning back. "True." She took a breath. "They are primarily carnivorous but will eat vegetation if required. I know females will eat this one fruit at a specific time while gestating because it's been shown to increase fetal intelligence. However, their culture has catered to advanced biological evolution; enough that they usually only have to eat every couple days or so.

"Their blood is a luminescent phosphor green, which has some interesting properties if we are unlucky enough to be on a kiande amedhe preserve planet. I'm really hoping that's not the case." She shivered reflexively as she paused to climb over a log. "It's also been known to bestow significant healing properties when ingested.

"Their vision is primarily in the infrared spectrum. Easily able to detect heat differentials, but almost impossible to distinguish objects that are the same temperature. They have to have a Bio-Mask when on different planets than their own, since they have a higher nitrogen and methane need, but are also capable of breathing in other atmospheres for short periods of time. Their Bio-Mask will help them filter their vision too though, giving them access to other spectrums of light, or enhancing their own, or filtering it or something. I can't quite remember. The Bio-Mask is also capable of translating their speech, both heard and spoken, if so required. They can record and play sound bites as well, helping them learn a new language quickly."

"What about weapons?" Royce prompted when she stopped talking for several minutes.

Nova sighed and continued. "It depends on the hunt. A lot of the time, they'll cater what weapons they use depending on what they are hunting, or it could be their clan's preference. I know they'll use energy and plasma-based weapons on a kiande amedhe hunt, as long as it's not their first on chiva. I know that practically all of them will have a wrist gauntlet that can old up to four blades, but two is more common. They'll usually have a retractable spear-like thing and a ceremonial dagger of some sort, though each clan has a preferred design. They all have at least one type of ranged weapon, though that varies greatly depending on the hunt and clan."

She took a breath. "And they all carry a cloaking device that bends light around them. You can see a shimmer in the air when in use. It will create a small shadow on the ground in certain situations. It'll short out when in contact with a lot of water, or if their gauntlet is damaged, since that is where the power source is located. Though it can also be shorted out if you hit the right spot on their armor."

Isabelle listened to this description with a growing sense of dread. She swallowed. "1987. Guatemala. A spec ops team went into the jungle. High end. Six men plus a C.I.A. liaison. Only one made it out." The whole group stopped to look at her as she spoke. "In his debrief, he said they came in contact with something. He gave a detailed description." She looked at Nova. "Green-brown skin. Mandibles. Black dreadlocks." Nova nodded, wide-eyed. "It wore some kind of camouflage that adjusted to ambient light. Made it nearly invisible in our spectrum. It could see in infrared; heat signatures. He used mud to block his. That's how he beat it." She took a deep breath, looking at all the others. "It hunted and killed his team, one by one."

Nova nodded again. "It's what they do. The more trophies they have, the better they look to their females, who might then pick them to mate with and have children. It's what their whole society is built on."

"Good God, lady! What don't you know about these people?" Stans exclaimed.

She blinked at him over Isabelle's shoulder. "I don't know why they took me." Then she swallowed. "Or…I'm not sure." Royce stopped to look at her with a raised eyebrow, silently demanding an answer. "I think…that I'm bait," she confessed, "for my guardian. He's more dangerous than I'll ever be…" she trailed off as they finally came out of the trees.

They stood on a cliff overlooking rolling hills and valleys of green. However, it was the sky that was the true beautiful sight. A light blue, the large red planet reminiscent to Jupiter was to the right. Above it was an even larger planet of swirling black and white; it took up at least an eighth of the sky. In the distance they could see another planet with its own moon, and finally the sun to their far left. "So pretty," Nova breathed.

Most of the party stared at the evidence of Nova's story. Up until that point, they had been skeptical to the point of disbelief in that aliens even existed, let alone that they were on a different planet. However, it was difficult to argue with their own eyes. Thus the group was silent for several minutes as they all absorbed the view and its implications.

Finally, Royce voiced a thought, "Is this enough for you to send a message?"

Nova bit her lip, then hesitantly nodded. "I think so. I'd be more confident if I could see the stars here, but I'm pretty sure I know where we are."

"How sure is pretty sure?"

"98%?"

"That's good enough for me. Go ahead."

Nova took off her jacket and knelt in the grass, using the denim to clear a flattened space on the side of the cliff. When she judged it ready, she reached into her pocket—her arm disappearing up to her elbow as she searched for what she needed, her tongue caught between her lips as she concentrated. "Ah ha!" she yelled as her fingers curled around and pulled out a small hexagonal silver tapered box. "Gotcha!"

Carefully setting it up on the laid jacket, she positioned it precisely in relation to the planets in the sky, then hit a button on the side that the others hadn't seen. With a small increasing whine of the build up on energy, she waited. Forty-seven seconds later, a white pulse of plasma shot out of the box into the sky. "There. That should do it." She gathered the box and put it back in her jacket pocket.

"What was that thing?!" Stans yelled.

She blinked over at him. "A long-distance communication relay, capable of sending a short-burst distress signal." She blinked again in complete confusion. "Wasn't that what you wanted?"

"I want to get off this fucking planet!"

She blinked at him again, then looked at Isabelle. "Isn't' that what I said?"

Stans groaned loudly, throwing his hands into the air with profound exasperation. "Bitch, you need to learn English!"

Royce ignored him. "So your device will contact your guardian." She bit her lip, which he was quickly learning meant she was holding back information. "Who did you contact, then?"

Nova looked at her shoes. "I didn't want him to get hurt. What happened at Demon's Run hurt him as much as the others. He hated having to become…that."

"So who did you send the signal to?" Isabelle asked in a no-nonsense tone.

Nova bit her lip and grabbed her braid before finally looking at the pair. "The Arbitrators?"

"Oh shit." Edwin's eyes were wide as he half glared at the girl, cleaning his glasses yet again. "Who calls lawyers for a rescue mission?!"

All mistakes are mine. I know its not perfect. Please review anyway. Reviews are love and make me write faster!