It was a simple Hunt, really.
The beings on NV-39W don't stay above the surface. It's too hot. So they stay in caves. As a result, they have lost their sight, which originally consisted of the visible light spectrum, like humans. In exchange for their sight, they have a renowned sense of smell, and an arsenal of natural weapons to match their territorial attitude. Pale, soft, turgid skin but with incredibly calloused limbs and claws that can pierce the hardest stone. Spines tinged with a mild toxin they themselves were immune to, but would inspire a searing pain in any trespassers unfortunate enough to get too close. The spines face one way, but can be flexed to face the opposite direction should they get stuck in a tunnel, which they use to navigate and expand the edges of their society beneath NV-39W's surface. Nearly mindless like a Serpent, but social enough among their own race to make them quite an intelligent threat to behold.
They are called The Unseen.
Yautja vision naturally isn't restricted to the visible light spectrum, and not even the dark can hide prey from their all-seeing thermal sight. Unlike Serpents, the Unseen still have body heat.
It was a simple Hunt. Up until it wasn't.
Cave-ins were anticipated. They happen all the time, even if there were no intruders who don't intimately know the tunnel system as the Unseen do. A cave-in is nothing but an inconvenience to them. Sometimes, one may collapse along with the rubble and perish, but it's an environmental hazard. They've been down in this system for hundreds of thousands of years. If a tunnel were to collapse, they could simply repave their way through the dead-end, or make a shortcut.
Yautja had no such luxury.
They merely know the hazards, and persist. If they really needed to, they could claw their way out of a dead-end... certainly?
As luck would have it, there was an Odd Crest on this Hunt. With two marks on the family face before him, Bhu'ja-Lulij, or "Mad Ghost" as he was known, was a competent warrior and a behemoth of a man, who could scrub the shame from the Odd Crest legacy. He rested his axe upon his shoulder and grinned like a ghoul to his compatriots.
As fate would have it, there was another particular Yautja on this Hunt. Not an Odd Crest, but as with every other dispatched member sent to NV-39W, a member of the same clan. His name was all but lost to time. Permanently etched into the physical and digital records of history, and yet all but vanished from the mouths of the clan. No one cared after a certain point. But his name was Tieri. Don't ever forget it. The meaning is unimportant. Speak only of his true name, which was Tieri.
He was Mad Ghost's Hunt-brother, and they may as well have been childhood friends. But the same could be said for anyone else in the group and Mad Ghost. What was special about Tieri?
Tieri fell down.
There was a cliff in a topmost chamber of the Unseen's colony. A cave-in was anticipated.
And so, Tieri fell down. And Mad Ghost with him. A Hunt-brother, ever by his side.
Maskless Tieri stared at the light that peeked ever so slightly from the rubble that formed their new ceiling. Mad Ghost lay on his side as if in bed, his mask also torn from his head.
Their equipment was scattered within the rubble, damaged or lost. Both men had smashed their heads into debris as they fell, severing the wires keeping their masks attached to their respirators and dislodging them altogether. It would take excavation they couldn't spare to retrieve them. And wouldn't you know it, their one path to mercy was smashed to pieces. No quick suicide for them.
Mad Ghost rolled over and awoke to the same sight Tieri beheld, the select spots of light that shone through their cone-shaped prison of rubble. Weakened from the fall, Mad Ghost turned to look at Tieri, who was still staring above. Their luminescent blood was scattered around, particularly by their mouths and heads. If the light above were to disappear, the only thing visible would be their bodies and the glow of their own blood.
The Odd Crest noticed Tieri had debris laying on his chest, spattered with his blood. Mad Ghost fought through the pain to sit up, stand on his two feet, and summon the strength to remove the stalactite. He gingerly picked his Hunt-brother up and laid him back down beside the debris he was laying on. Tieri listlessly stared off to the side.
The wounds were deep. Luckily, out of their equipment left, both still had their medicomps secured to their thighs. Mad Ghost pondered his state. Sure, he was injured, but Tieri was far worse. It wasn't just a bruise. His chest was alight with blood past the broken skin, and the sweet noxious smell of Yautja gore permeated the small space they had.
Mad Ghost prepared the burner and crushed the very debris that had crushed Tieri into the dish. He poured the cauterization fluid in and the stark black of their surroundings flared a bright blue, which quickly died out. As he scraped the resultant gel from the dish, he realized how wide the wound was. A bullet wound could be sealed shut easily, but this...
He tried his best. It couldn't be stapled shut. It couldn't be cauterized shut. He merely caked the caustic gel where he could spot oozing blood. Tieri made no sound, though even the most seasoned warriors still bellowed with pain when burning their wounds shut.
If they could be taken to an infirmary and soon, certainly they can fix this.
Certainly, their hunting group is out there, clawing away to rescue them. Though, the situation they had just escaped by falling down was precarious, so the clan may have chosen to evacuate. If so, then they may regroup in the next couple of days.
"All will be fine," Mad Ghost reasoned. "Tieri has some days to spare. Don't you, Tieri?"
Tieri said nothing. In fact, he was silent for the following days in the hole.
And he said nothing for the following weeks as well.
"Tieri..." The ailing Hunt-brother said. "You'll never heal well if you don't rest."
Mad Ghost ran his hand down Tieri's face, closing his eyes for him. The Odd Crest held Tieri's cold hand within his own, eyes wide to keep his vision from obscuring.
He subsisted himself, at first, on what grubs wormed their way through the cracks in the debris. He opened Tieri's weary eyes to show him. He offered them to Tieri, who did not bite. Mad Ghost reluctantly made no waste of what little they were given, so he selfishly ate them all. The Unseen survived this way, as well.
But eventually, the grubs stopped working their way through the rubble to the trapped Yautja. Less and less appeared each day that passed, Tieri partaking in none of it.
The stalactite was a stalagmite. Mad Ghost was alone before he even woke up.
And each day, it seemed less likely that the clan would be coming back for him. Given the intrusion, the Unseen seem to have abandoned the chamber, so no honorable death in battle was to be waited for with bated breath.
No hope. No company. No food.
Once Mad Ghost stopped playing pretend, he had to accept the next step of reality. And it did not agree with the Code of Honor. It was him, or Tieri. And Tieri already fell down. He spoke to the gods.
"Don't make me," he prayed. "Please, don't force me to."
But none spoke back. Tieri continued to fester, and the stench of his burnt, sweet flesh clouded the area. His saccharine blood did not cease its glow. The star that circled the planet would disappear, and with it, the light that rained from above. And only Tieri's light shone through the endless black until it came back.
Humans were "soft meat". Serpents were "hard meat". But no one dared speak of "tough meat". To partake of "tough meat" was to desecrate the corpse of your brethren. An immutable act of dishonor.
The Odd Crest must pick his poison. To die a dishonorable, pathetic death, wasting away alongside his deceased Hunt-brother. Or he can help himself to the eight-hundred pounds of tough meat lying across him.
Honor is rigid, unforgiving in most of its ways. There was no way to escape this place with any honor intact. If this is so, then was it worth it, to try and live?
As Mad Ghost restlessly pondered, he fought starvation through sheer willpower, using the time as he made his decision to use what medical supplies he hadn't spent on Tieri's body on his own wounds.
He fasted as long as he could, until he started noticing he couldn't stand without the entire space seeming to tilt violently to one side, the impact of his suddenly unconscious body rocking the already precariously structured space that so graciously withstood all this time.
Tieri's lifeless eyes gazed in some vague direction, no longer at the light.
Tieri was gone. He fell down. This wasn't Tieri anymore. This was a corpse that was named Tieri. Rather, the eyes that remained a part of the body formerly known as Tieri stared endlessly into the darkness.
The Black Hunter had taken Tieri. He hadn't taken Mad Ghost. Clearly, he was meant to live, for if he was to die here, wouldn't the Black Hunter have taken them both all at once? Perhaps, he thought, this was a sign. There was a reason why he was left alive next to the body of his comrade. Tieri sacrificed himself for his Hunt-brother. He let Death take him in his place. Fate was to have Mad Ghost partake in tough meat.
"Oh... Tieri..." the Ghost crooned. "Would you want me to...?"
The body naturally did not respond.
"Would you ever forgive me...? Is this... your intention? Is it... Cetanu's?"
The Ghost raged as every inch of his body ached and screamed as the room turned incessantly.
What had he done to deserve this? Were Death and Tieri laughing and scorning him from behind the veil? He already suffered. The death of Tieri was enough. Was this a punishment of both he and his fallen Hunt-brother? Everyone hated him. The clan, the Unseen, Fate, Death, Tieri— all of them. Undoubtedly, a preemptive punishment for what he must do now.
The Ghost was alive, because Death refuses to claim him. Certainly. Out of spite, he must stay alive. He has no choice. Cetanu won't take the Mad Ghost.
The Odd Crest picked his poison.
"Forgive... please, forgive me. Forgive me for what I am about to do. Tieri, please forgive me. Payas, forgive me. Payas… Tieri… forgive... please..."
He dug his face into the outside of Tieri's thigh and bit down as hard as he could. The body was cold, and yet, after so long, the inside was still lukewarm. Room temperature blood seeped slowly out the broken skin. He pulled away and tore off the skin, along with chunks of muscle clutched in his jaws.
Mad Ghost chewed as well as he could, and swallowed despite the lump present in his throat as he turned to meet the burning stare of Tieri.
"Don't stare."
"Stop staring at me."
"Don't point your eyes my way."
"Don't look."
"Don't look at me in that way."
He traced his hands down Tieri's face and closed his eyelids one last time.
"Rest now and forever."
He continued to pick at the thigh, eating less like a starving man and more like a simple beast with its kill. Calmly, orderly.
Mad Ghost sat, with the leg perched onto his lap, a glowing hole larger than his own hand bitten into it. The femur was visible. He had bitten all the way to the bone. He'd finally eaten something for the first time in several weeks.
Immediately, he threw himself away from the corpse as if struck upside the head and writhed on the floor like a pest. It was if his body rejected this act of immutable dishonor, and in an attempt to undo it, purged all the tough meat out of his system. His first meal was no more, and it had only been an hour. Mad Ghost had just wasted among the best parts to eat of another creature.
Perhaps he could stop now, with this second chance. When he is rescued, he could cover up the bite.
…
But if he stopped now, he might not live long enough to see his rescue.
Mad Ghost gave himself another hour to collect himself, and attempted to feed again. He limited himself to something smaller, and ate only a sliver of Tieri's calf. Two times, it almost went back up the way it came, and it succeeded on the third.
Betrayed by his own body, though knowing it had every good reason to refuse, Mad Ghost pulled at his quills, abusing himself in any possible way, and screamed to the ceiling above, no light to hear him shout. His fist found itself buried deep into his belly, and he coughed up warm gore. Whether this was more of Tieri or his own blood, he couldn't tell as he collapsed examining the sickeningly sweet mess in his hand.
He won't survive like this. If he can just keep enough tough meat down long enough, even if it is ultimately purged, it will be enough to get on by. Until when? He wasn't sure, and especially not about whether he could last that long.
Over the following days, the Ghost became more resistant to his gag reflex, much to his physical and emotional upset.
Leave enough for them to bury. Leave his face intact. If you must be cruel, be selective. Ravage the meaty parts. There is no meat on the face; allow him the barest privilege of a recognizable face.
When night fell, and starlight disappeared, Tieri kept the hovel lit.
Light of life. Light went dark. Light was sweet. Light was inside Tieri… Light was in the meat... tough meat. Break the skin and let the light out. Hot light... warm meat... cold hands. Tieri was cold. Tieri was warm. Tieri was all over the place...
It was unclear if the clan was ever coming back. Maybe one day, they will return to the site of their Unseen Hunt catastrophe and uncover two skeletons within the rubble, and they will never learn the dark truth. If Mad Ghost were to die here, next to his beloved Hunt-brother, that is all he could wish for next.
The cauterized scabbing Mad Ghost strove so hard to create was eventually picked away as he sought to get at what organs were left inside the chest cavity. Once more again, Tieri's heart was aglow.
Eventually, Tieri's leg separated from the rest of his body. So sick and delirious, Mad Ghost couldn't tell whether he had torn it off on purpose, or if Tieri had decayed so much, that his hip joint simply gave out.
Free to get at the livor mortis kept so cruelly away from his reach, he dug in. As he did, the world, its darkness, and its light disappeared, replaced by only Tieri and his light.
Then suddenly, everything flooded back. An enormous crash echoed through the caverns. A bright light Mad Ghost had not seen in months exposed his malnourished flesh to the outside world. By instinct, he froze, then pulled his face from the leg and turned to face the light.
Within his distorted vision, several Hunters stood, masked, but drew back at Mad Ghost's gaze.
With tough meat tumbling out of his throat, the Odd Crest was at a loss for words. He hadn't spoken for weeks, and suddenly, all rational thought disappeared.
All he did was make a guttural choking noise, luminescent dead blood smeared all over his face, then the walls were further torn down by more Hunters. Sharing looks among one another, all within a second, they rushed into the space. Dropping the leg, Mad Ghost gibbered as he threw himself back beside Tieri, who appeared to be screaming to the heavens with his head reared back, jaw unfurled, chest hollow.
Surrounded, overwhelmed, words failing him, weakened from months of malnutrition, his detainment was quick, and as his perception blurred, he continued to struggle and shriek.
Mad Ghost was out of the rubble. Now, he was out of the caverns altogether and in the blazing daylight of NV-39W. Now, he was on the cold metal floor of a Yautja ship, feeling hot in the face as he felt his mandible snap from the blows dealt by his captors.
Stripped of all armor, he was strapped to a cold table.
As cold metal pierced its way through his flesh and deep into his neck, he found the words he most needed to say.
"I didn't kill him..." Mad Ghost whispered. "He was already dead. I didn't kill him...! I didn't kill him!"
As his consciousness dissipated, his pleas slurred and quieted. Silent masks with judging looks only stared on.
"Don'tlookatmeinthat... way... I had to..."
The Hunters in the room turned their attention to something outside the door, out of his increasingly shrinking field of vision. A few left. Some remained to stare at Mad Ghost.
"Icouldn'tkeephimdown... I left enough of him to bury..."
The words escaped from his weak body so gently, he could no longer tell if he was saying them aloud or just thinking them was requiring all the strength he could muster. Completely spent, he let go of his breath.
"Tieri fell down."