Zarack hurtled through the dark void of space to the hunt. He braced for impact as collision with his pod, and the human vessel was imminent. It was a matter of minutes before the metal alloy that encased him shuddered intensely. He had made contact. In a bright burst of light, the hull before the pod was transformed to molten slag. The doors of the pod slid open and released the predator from his restraint. Zarack leapt from the breach, landing on the floor with the crunch of metal beneath his immense form. The corridors of the vessel were dark and narrow. Failing lights flickered as they hung loosely from the ceiling. The Yautja flickered his vision through infra-red to bio signature to night vision. There was nothing alive close by, but a mass of things not. Red painted the room that he stood, and wet lumps of flesh lay strewn across the floor. They were human, mutilated beyond recognition. Torn apart by claw and brutal strength. Among the massacre was one of them. A Xenomorph. It was an infant among its kind, barely formed into the warrior that it would become. Its tail ended in a scythe like blade and its fingers ended in long vorpal claws. It’s black chitinous hide reflected the glow of the light. Sickly green blood boiled around it, dripping from bullet holes that riddled its elongated skull. Its fang lined maw was open, revealing a second smaller maw, still slick in thick red. The Xenomorph was a powerful foe indeed. The humans fought back and won, but at heavy cost. The tracking system in the reaper’s helmet began blipping, three red dots on his superimposed display warned him that something was close. This creature was not alone in its attack.
The vents above the predator began to shake, the sound of claw on metal echoing from within. The creatures must have led dormant in the area after the slaughter had ensued. Zarack prepared himself, flicking three long blades from his wrist gauntlet and activating his combi-spear in a single perfected motion. He was the hunter, and they, his prey. They just didn’t yet know it. Zarack roared a challenge, a deep guttural sound that reverberated around the metal hallways. The first of the Xenomorph leapt from the shadows of a vent, it’s claws poised to rend the Reaper. Zarack launched his combi-spear in response, his reflexes immediate to the attack. Such was the strength of the predator, the weapon carried the creature with it. With a dying hiss and screech, the Xenomorph was impaled to a wall. It wasn’t long before the other two were upon Zarack. The predator tracked the first with his tri-beam targeting system, the plasma caster on his shoulder whirring as it followed its mark. The ancient weapon hummed as plasma built up within its chamber. With nothing but a thought, the weapon was unleashed on its target. The creature was obliterated from the super charged bolt in a shower of acid blood and gore. The metal alloy of the ship steamed and boiled where ever the remains fell.
The second leapt at Zarack before he could react. The creature brought its deadly claws down on the predator, carving further gouges in his helm. Before the Xenomorph even touched the ground, the Reaper caught it in a vice-like grip around its throat. The creature flailed with claw and tail in an attempt to escape but to no avail. With all of his might, Zarack slammed the Xenomorph into the grated metal floor with a crunch. It writhed and twitched as it struggled to move its wracked body. Zarack felt the fury of his species and let it overtake him. He was not yet finished with this foe. He kicked it sprawling across the ground before obliterating it with a shot from his plasma caster. A roar of victory ended the fight, but the predator knew, that this not be the last in this hunt. He would not take trophies from these infant creatures, they were not worthy of his prowess. For there to be infants, there had to somewhere be an adult, and that would be a worthy prey.
Zarack reclaimed his combi spear from the impaled Xenomorph, its body now fallen lifeless. The predator had learned of the creature’s acidic properties long ago, and so his armour and weaponry were forged of a resistant alloy. Adapting was one of the Yautja greatest strengths, and was a trait that the humans could not keep up with. Still steaming with the Xenomorph’s blood and entrail, but entirely unscathed, Zarack returned the combi spear to its holster and retracted his wrist blades. The ship had gone eerily silent after the fight. Activating the holographic display on his wrist gauntlet, the layout of his hunting ground appeared before him. Several more red dots appeared, stalking the vent shafts and empty rooms. The Xenomorph, like him, were hunting. But it was not the predator that they were hunting. A room on the far side of the ship blipped with the faint signal of humans. But that was not all that caught the reaper off guard. A green blip signified that another predator was aboard the ship. This hunt would not be as simple as he had first thought.
Activating the communicator in his ornate helm, Zarack searched for the nearby Yautja’s signal. In a series of clicks and growls, the Reaper warned. “This hunt is claimed. Leave.”
Static burst from the responder immediately, the other predator responded simply with a deep guttural laughter.
Part 3 incoming on Friday! Thank you all for reading.