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Default Location for They Mostly Come Out at Night...Mostly
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They Mostly Come Out at Night...Mostly.
9 Characters Here
Osillet [4]
Nracha-dte [4] "You young bloods have much to learn."
Krimson "Red" Blades [4] El demonio que hace que los trofeos de los hombres.....
Oranalie [4]
Benjamin Hicks Mason [2] "Just another bug hunt, marines. Stay tight, stay low, and stay frosty...."
Megan Renae Sullivan [0] Before, my life had dull days of being icilated in my room. Reading or watching t.v. Now, my life is all that I fight for. Being chased by monsters down the streets, clothes covered in blood, fighting for survival. My opinion? mm, not too bad.
Charletro [0]
The Queen [0]
Anyus [0]
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A bitter cold spread its wings upon the city as night fell and brought a chilling autmn air. The large pale face of the full moon beamed down upon the misty streets, making the concrete glisten under its light. It seemed as if the great wings of the bitter cold gave a mighty beat of its feathers and sent a freezing wind across the city. The currents of air slithered amongst the buildings and alleyways, brushing against every object, leaving nothing untouched. The wind even flowed down the sewer drain and ran like a river through its canals. The wind spread through a chamber and pushed against the damp, concrete walls. The cold air was then inhaled into a beast's mouth as an invisible current. Then was exhaled in a white drifting fog, between long sharp, glass-like teeth. The cold air continued to be inhaled and exhaled slowly by this beast, her warm mouth morphing the cold air into hot breath. Flowing from her drooling lips and brushing her chin.
For too many days has she breathed in the chilling air. The cold temperature didn't bug her, but the foul scents of the city that the air brought her was a bitter taste. The pungent scent of vehicle exhaust, the sour smell of dripping oil, it all curled at the roof of her mouth from the wind. Her ribs expanded and released, taking in another longfull of the air. The great metal "throne" she was hoisted on dripped with sour water and glistened from the dull lantern lights that aligned on the canal walls. The Queen slowly flexed her claws, feeling her body produce. A mass of leathery eggs already surrounded her taking up most of the chamber. They were coated with the moisture of the air and wet drool. The floors of the chamber, once concrete, now covered in hardened webs of resin along with the decayed bodies of victoms.
The warriors of the coloney were camoflauged against the walls, still and silent. Soon, the Queen will send out her drones to retreive new hosts.
For too many days has she breathed in the chilling air. The cold temperature didn't bug her, but the foul scents of the city that the air brought her was a bitter taste. The pungent scent of vehicle exhaust, the sour smell of dripping oil, it all curled at the roof of her mouth from the wind. Her ribs expanded and released, taking in another longfull of the air. The great metal "throne" she was hoisted on dripped with sour water and glistened from the dull lantern lights that aligned on the canal walls. The Queen slowly flexed her claws, feeling her body produce. A mass of leathery eggs already surrounded her taking up most of the chamber. They were coated with the moisture of the air and wet drool. The floors of the chamber, once concrete, now covered in hardened webs of resin along with the decayed bodies of victoms.
The warriors of the coloney were camoflauged against the walls, still and silent. Soon, the Queen will send out her drones to retreive new hosts.
Setting
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Oranalie and Ossilet watched from the ship as the ship hovered invisiblely over the city. They had been told that a queen alien hadn't been killed and a scientist managed to exscape with her. She was now needing hostes so her infants could be born. It was both Oranalie and Ossilet's first hunt as a Rite of Passage , both were excited but extremly nervous , there were times when predators didn't come back from the hunt. Oranalie was the only female predator allowed on the hunt , she was with her best friend Ossilet ,Red , and Nracha -dte. Oranalie hoped her first hunt would go well.
The Wings of Icarus-Celldweller
Nracha-dta had kept a careful eye on the two young Yautja ever since he arrived on their hunt ship a day or so ago. He wasn't part of their clan, so there were no reason why he should really care about them. "Sister Watcher" was gearing herself up, and so was he, both getting ready for their drop. Both were clad in black, blinking with an occasional red light, the colors of their clan.
A couple days earlier, Nracha-dta and his apprentice had docked with the ship of these three while in orbit. They had the objective not to kill a queen xenomorph, but to bring it back alive. Apparently, this queen had made herself a next on a small planet in the Sol system, third rock from the star. Out of them all, the queen happened to be on the planet that bristled with the most life: Earth.
This was the elite's third hunt on the planet, so he knew exactly what to do. This was going to be his apprentice's first major hunt, however, and second time on Earth. What caught the eye of the two unblooded hunters, was that this particular hunter was shorter than all of them... much shorter. The hunter also happened to have what seemed to be softer skin, smaller feminine frame, but that was because it wasn't a Yautja. The hunter than Nracha-dta called "Sister Watcher" was a human...
"Let's make this simple. We are from a different clan than you three. You are not our responsibility to take care of, so don't even think about trying to stay with us, because we won't hesitate to leave you behind..." Nracha-dta's broad but stern form towered over the lot of them. Pointing at Red, he continued. "You, don't think about trying to make my fellow hunter into one of your trophies, simply because she will fuck you."
The elite was obviously scarred, missing one of his power mandibles as well as the various scratches and scars from previous hunts. He had finished suiting himself up, with his apprentice already waiting for the drop. Placing his biomask over his face, connecting his weapon systems to correspond with his visor, he was now ready...
Nracha-dta had kept a careful eye on the two young Yautja ever since he arrived on their hunt ship a day or so ago. He wasn't part of their clan, so there were no reason why he should really care about them. "Sister Watcher" was gearing herself up, and so was he, both getting ready for their drop. Both were clad in black, blinking with an occasional red light, the colors of their clan.
A couple days earlier, Nracha-dta and his apprentice had docked with the ship of these three while in orbit. They had the objective not to kill a queen xenomorph, but to bring it back alive. Apparently, this queen had made herself a next on a small planet in the Sol system, third rock from the star. Out of them all, the queen happened to be on the planet that bristled with the most life: Earth.
This was the elite's third hunt on the planet, so he knew exactly what to do. This was going to be his apprentice's first major hunt, however, and second time on Earth. What caught the eye of the two unblooded hunters, was that this particular hunter was shorter than all of them... much shorter. The hunter also happened to have what seemed to be softer skin, smaller feminine frame, but that was because it wasn't a Yautja. The hunter than Nracha-dta called "Sister Watcher" was a human...
"Let's make this simple. We are from a different clan than you three. You are not our responsibility to take care of, so don't even think about trying to stay with us, because we won't hesitate to leave you behind..." Nracha-dta's broad but stern form towered over the lot of them. Pointing at Red, he continued. "You, don't think about trying to make my fellow hunter into one of your trophies, simply because she will fuck you."
The elite was obviously scarred, missing one of his power mandibles as well as the various scratches and scars from previous hunts. He had finished suiting himself up, with his apprentice already waiting for the drop. Placing his biomask over his face, connecting his weapon systems to correspond with his visor, he was now ready...
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Oranalie and Ossilet listened to the elite with the greatest respect. He was very stern that he didn't want his human compainion killed. Oranalie understood and nodded to Nracha-dta about all he said , she didn't understand why the elders picked predators from different clans thou. Ossilet remained about a foot from the elite , so to say he was a bit scared of him ,Ossilet knew that was bad and he had to over come that. But Ossilet nodded after Oranalie when he heard that he didn't want his friend to become one of there trophies , Ossilet understood that , he wouldn't want Oranalie to become a trophy either.
The two Yautjas' finished getting ready , they checked everything to make sure it wouldn't backfire on them. When everything seemed fine, they were ready to begin.
The two Yautjas' finished getting ready , they checked everything to make sure it wouldn't backfire on them. When everything seemed fine, they were ready to begin.
Red
All had been quiet until now. The dark embrace of the stars, the pulsating hum of the ship's engines, and indeed his own steady breathing. It was not hard to exit this world and enter one of thought alone. This was the Ooman homeworld, one he had hunted countless times. This was his favored hunting ground, sprawling with his prey of choice. But this was not where his mind was now. No, it was not merely thought he was lost in, but memory as well. Forever seeing his past played out in an eternal loop. He mulled over the path he had tread to reach here, and The Path that was laid out before him.
It was then that the words of Nracha-dte had shined through, dissecting between his thoughts with surgical precision and striking the fragile nerve that lay beneath. The Krimson Blades broke from his trance, angered by the yautja's remark. He could feel his mandibles begin to flare, but quickly realized the delicate political situation he found himself in. As the last member of the Naat-Ji, he was the only representative of the clan. To cause an incident over such a tiny matter would only bring shame to him and his family name. Ni'Charak took a moment to compose himself, as his mandibles enclosed to show but a sliver of a toothy scowl.
"Do not take me for a fool, Elite, as I can clearly see the blooding mark on the Ooman" he shot out in a sharp growl. Hearing the aggression in his own tone, Red realized that he was not as composed as he previously believed. Ni'charak straightened his back, his mandibles now entirely shielding his maw to present less tension. Out of all the children of Naral-Gii, Ni'Charak was the only one who could completely enclose his mandibles as such. Speaking in clicks of a much softer tone: "I will trust it proved worthy of such an honor, and will be seen as a hunter of your clan in my eyes. I wish there to be no angered thoughts between us." He strode past the monolith of a yautja, towards his follower. Placing a hand on the female creatures shoulder with a gentle shake, as not to harm the frail thing, he spoke out in a diplomatic tone he had learned from his father. "Thwei s' yin'tekai, kv'var mei-jadhi." Blood and honor, hunt sister.
Feeling a triumph in avoiding a conflict between clans, Red chuckled "Not all of us here are young bloods" as he took his place in a corner of the ship to study his fellow hunters. The large one would no doubt be leading the young bloods. Even for yautja, this one was of impressive stature. Perhaps he was a descendant of the large, overtly-aggressive Hish? His eyes trail from Nracha-dte to the other male. Nothing particularly interesting about this one. A young blood with no clear blooding mark. The day had not yet come for his Kainde Amedha Chiva. Was this young blood ready for such a prey as the Oomans? The pyode amedha were a truly feared prey, as they are capable of learning rather quickly and their burners were extremely deadly. Stealth and ambush were the best tactics. The pyode amedha were a fearful species, and one would be wise to use such terror against them. Red continued scanning his companions, landing next to the Ooman female. He new very well of their kind and their physical limitations as a species, but had never heard of one earning a place in a yautja clan. What exactly did this one do to bring it such honor? She must be impressive, but even then there was no way feasible she could keep up with a true hunter. Oomans were slower, weaker, much more fragile, and did not poses anywhere near the agility needed to keep pace with yautja. But this was not his issue, let the soft meat slow them down as much as it pleases.
Just when Ni'Charak was about to lose interest in the uniqueness of his hunting party, he spotted her. A female yautja. But if this wasn't odd enough, her size made the difference. No bigger then an Ooman. Either she had not yet reached maturity, or she was cursed with such small height. Why was she here? After much thought in pondering the mystery of her presence, he came to an interesting theory. Perhaps her father, seeing her unfit to bear children, trained her in the way of the hunt and set her upon The Path to find honor in a warrior's death. It would be fascinating to witness how well she had been taught. The pyode amedha would show no mercy on a hunter of a different gender.
After a while of patiently waiting, something finally dawned upon him. All these yautja were geared as if they were hunting kiande amedha. Hard Meat? Here? Were they fools? This world was not one home to the nightmare things, as it was home to the Oomans. The ancient laws decreed no seeding of a world that housed an intelligent species. No serpents were allowed to be sent here and no l'ulij-bpe yautja would dare seed this planet or any planet in this system, lest they face the wrath of the entire Elder's Council. The young bloods would no doubt have chosen their weapons by their leader's example, but Nracha-dte was unexcused. Perhaps he had gotten his coordinates confused? Maybe he was just misinformed? But Nracha-dte was an Elite. They were no simple imbeciles. The odds of this one being mistaken about anything was highly unlikely. "Though I suppose anything is possible...." Red muttered under his breath.
All had been quiet until now. The dark embrace of the stars, the pulsating hum of the ship's engines, and indeed his own steady breathing. It was not hard to exit this world and enter one of thought alone. This was the Ooman homeworld, one he had hunted countless times. This was his favored hunting ground, sprawling with his prey of choice. But this was not where his mind was now. No, it was not merely thought he was lost in, but memory as well. Forever seeing his past played out in an eternal loop. He mulled over the path he had tread to reach here, and The Path that was laid out before him.
It was then that the words of Nracha-dte had shined through, dissecting between his thoughts with surgical precision and striking the fragile nerve that lay beneath. The Krimson Blades broke from his trance, angered by the yautja's remark. He could feel his mandibles begin to flare, but quickly realized the delicate political situation he found himself in. As the last member of the Naat-Ji, he was the only representative of the clan. To cause an incident over such a tiny matter would only bring shame to him and his family name. Ni'Charak took a moment to compose himself, as his mandibles enclosed to show but a sliver of a toothy scowl.
"Do not take me for a fool, Elite, as I can clearly see the blooding mark on the Ooman" he shot out in a sharp growl. Hearing the aggression in his own tone, Red realized that he was not as composed as he previously believed. Ni'charak straightened his back, his mandibles now entirely shielding his maw to present less tension. Out of all the children of Naral-Gii, Ni'Charak was the only one who could completely enclose his mandibles as such. Speaking in clicks of a much softer tone: "I will trust it proved worthy of such an honor, and will be seen as a hunter of your clan in my eyes. I wish there to be no angered thoughts between us." He strode past the monolith of a yautja, towards his follower. Placing a hand on the female creatures shoulder with a gentle shake, as not to harm the frail thing, he spoke out in a diplomatic tone he had learned from his father. "Thwei s' yin'tekai, kv'var mei-jadhi." Blood and honor, hunt sister.
Feeling a triumph in avoiding a conflict between clans, Red chuckled "Not all of us here are young bloods" as he took his place in a corner of the ship to study his fellow hunters. The large one would no doubt be leading the young bloods. Even for yautja, this one was of impressive stature. Perhaps he was a descendant of the large, overtly-aggressive Hish? His eyes trail from Nracha-dte to the other male. Nothing particularly interesting about this one. A young blood with no clear blooding mark. The day had not yet come for his Kainde Amedha Chiva. Was this young blood ready for such a prey as the Oomans? The pyode amedha were a truly feared prey, as they are capable of learning rather quickly and their burners were extremely deadly. Stealth and ambush were the best tactics. The pyode amedha were a fearful species, and one would be wise to use such terror against them. Red continued scanning his companions, landing next to the Ooman female. He new very well of their kind and their physical limitations as a species, but had never heard of one earning a place in a yautja clan. What exactly did this one do to bring it such honor? She must be impressive, but even then there was no way feasible she could keep up with a true hunter. Oomans were slower, weaker, much more fragile, and did not poses anywhere near the agility needed to keep pace with yautja. But this was not his issue, let the soft meat slow them down as much as it pleases.
Just when Ni'Charak was about to lose interest in the uniqueness of his hunting party, he spotted her. A female yautja. But if this wasn't odd enough, her size made the difference. No bigger then an Ooman. Either she had not yet reached maturity, or she was cursed with such small height. Why was she here? After much thought in pondering the mystery of her presence, he came to an interesting theory. Perhaps her father, seeing her unfit to bear children, trained her in the way of the hunt and set her upon The Path to find honor in a warrior's death. It would be fascinating to witness how well she had been taught. The pyode amedha would show no mercy on a hunter of a different gender.
After a while of patiently waiting, something finally dawned upon him. All these yautja were geared as if they were hunting kiande amedha. Hard Meat? Here? Were they fools? This world was not one home to the nightmare things, as it was home to the Oomans. The ancient laws decreed no seeding of a world that housed an intelligent species. No serpents were allowed to be sent here and no l'ulij-bpe yautja would dare seed this planet or any planet in this system, lest they face the wrath of the entire Elder's Council. The young bloods would no doubt have chosen their weapons by their leader's example, but Nracha-dte was unexcused. Perhaps he had gotten his coordinates confused? Maybe he was just misinformed? But Nracha-dte was an Elite. They were no simple imbeciles. The odds of this one being mistaken about anything was highly unlikely. "Though I suppose anything is possible...." Red muttered under his breath.
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Oranalie stood in her corner rather deep in thought , it had been a while since she had traveled with her father to this planet. She remembered that many of the males that came with her and her father had parished , now that Oranalie looked back on that she wandered why her father took her in the first place. She wasn't an only child , infact she had four older brothers who lefted home before she was even born. Why didn't he choose one of them? Oranalie thought about it a bit longer and smiled , she did recall her father saying that her brothers were clumsy and couldn't pay attention very well and that that was a bad thing to have in a yautja and how he wasn't sending them to there death just yet. But they had to go wheather her father thought they were ready or not , and now they were all dead. Thats when he started training her , even though it was very much improper for a female to train in the way of the males in her clan it stop her father from training her. And with that she had become one of the most respected females in the clan and the strongest.
Looking up at Ossilet as he walked over Oranalie smiled at her old friend. "Troubled Ora? You seemed deep in thought."
"Just going over my life , and trying to see its purpose. Is it normal for females to become warriors?" Ossilet took a while to answer.
"Depends on the female , like you. I couldn't see you caring for young." Oranalie glared ,Ossilet hissed backed.
"Thats not funny."
Looking up at Ossilet as he walked over Oranalie smiled at her old friend. "Troubled Ora? You seemed deep in thought."
"Just going over my life , and trying to see its purpose. Is it normal for females to become warriors?" Ossilet took a while to answer.
"Depends on the female , like you. I couldn't see you caring for young." Oranalie glared ,Ossilet hissed backed.
"Thats not funny."
Ben Mason
The U.S.S. Berlin had just broke FTL within the Sol system only days ago and was now docked at U.S.C.M. space port 49. The crew had been granted an opportunity at some much needed home-leave and jumped at the chance. The issue at hand was that protocol dictated a 24 hour waiting period before clearance could be transferred through. As such, the marines aboard the massive frigate anxiously sat and passed the time as best they could. Hypersleep was not an option once docked. One such Colonial Marine was a Corporal First Class Benjamin "Face" Hicks Mason, service number #2528-92.
Ben was participating in his usual activity of lounging about in his bunk with his datapad, doing ever more research on Midas 14. Hearing the encroaching sound of boots, he quickly hid it undo his pillow rather then be mocked once again. The figure, now made visible, was not one unfamiliar to Ben. His long time buddy and fellow Delta 7 member, Joseph James Benson. A young, active, 6'3" african american. Joseph and Ben had a long history. They had gone through boot camp together, and had each served in the Delta 7 first responder's division for six years. "Yo Face! Where you at man, your missin' it! Brody started a poker game and Starnes' mouth is writing checks his ass can't cash again. You want in on this shit, you better mo-......" Joseph stopped mid sentence as he stared at Ben's glued-on 'I didn't do it' face and his suspicious positioning in his bunk. "Oh.... uhh.... hey, JJ. I think I might rain check." Joseph paused a moment before blurting out: "Okay, spill it. The hell's wrong now?"
Ben paused, a bit shocked by JJ's forwardness. "Nothing, why does something have to be wro-..... okay, that's a line of shit. I don't know, man. Just got this bad mojo or something. Probably just paranoid. And don't say it." Ben stated in an attempt at a preemptive strike against Joseph's questioning. It failed miserably. "You been on the web about your parents again, haven't you?" Joseph asked. Ben, in defense, shot out "What part of 'don't say it' didn't register? And no, I'm not. Do you guys really think I'm always on the- Hey! The fuck you doing?!" as Joseph jetted his arm underneath Ben's pillow, retrieving the hidden datapad. "Mmmmmmhmmmmmm....... Lucy, you got some 'splainin to do......." JJ quoted in a mocking spanish accent, holding the pad before him like evidence. Ben, snatching back his datapad, started to explain his case: "Okay, A: don't call me Lucy. B: that's not why I'm getting that bad vibe. And C: what I do in my own spare time is none of your god damn business, so stay out of it."
JJ leaned back a bit before continuing. "Stay out of it? Ben, my good friend, I have stayed out of it. Every home leave, every time we're off duty, every time a chance at fun presents itself and you shoot it down, I have stayed out of it. Just to make sure your not under some delusion that I'm staying out of it this time, Look at me, Ben. Read my fucking lips. Not. Happening. It ain't happenin' Ben. You and me? We're going to go out, get shit-face drunk, and have a night of various atrocities, felonies, and general bad decisions that we won't remember and will never live down for as long as we live! You know? Fun. You should try it some time." Ben looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, then replied in a mocking tone "You and I clearly have varying definitions of 'fun'." Joseph just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Look, point is you need to get out. I say we hit the clubs, find some ladies, put on the charms, and take those girls back to our respective places." "Since when does us putting the charms on girls and those girls sleeping with us have anything to do with each other?" asked Ben with a wise-ass reply. ".......... Yeah, we need to work on that a bit. But all the more reason to go out, man. We do this, and I promise you we will get laid. I don't care if it takes a girl who'll fuck for a buck, holla' for a dolla', and do something strange for a piece of change." Ben just chuckled lightly at JJ's proposition and replied "So your usual dates for the evening?" Joseph raised both his hands and stated in his defense: "Hey man, nothin' wrong with gettin' a little help from professionals once in a while."
Benjamin, in a spout of laughter, replied "Yeah, when they're actually a woman. Or did you forget what happened on Char?" JJ's head tilted back, face-palmed, then groaned his response. "Oh sweet Jesus I've been trying to forget that. Man, you better be keeping that shit to yourself. My momma would be falling in her grave if she heard 'bout that." "Which part? You hiring a prostitute? Or it turning out to be a man?" To this, Joseph just stared at Ben, who was now in tears struggling to contain his laughter. "Uh huh. Ha ha ha. That's right. Laugh it up, mother fucker. But look, you spend more then one day in that in that dinky little apartment of yours, and I swear I will kick your ass" JJ boasted, showing clear impatience in his voice. Ben looked up with a smirk and said "JJ, you couldn't kick my ass even if it was surgically grafted to your boot." "It will be when I'm done. I will kick down your goddamn door, drag you out by your vagina, and we're going to go swashbuckle." "What the fuck does that even mean?" At Ben's question, JJ attempted a quick answer: "Man it's when you.....uhhhh..... alright I don't know. But we are going to do it, Marine!"
Ben finally surrendered in an effort to end the conversation. "Alright! Alright. I'll do it, Jesus Christ." JJ smiled and bobbed his head a bit at his victory. "Alright, man! Friday night. Be there! I ain't messin', man" he spouted out as he exited the bunks. "God he's a persistent asshole" Ben bellyached as Joseph left the room. He leaned back in his bunk, taking in a deep breath. He held it a bit, till finally he slowly let it escape. "Still got that bad feeling in the pit of my gut, though." His stomach gargled and growled right as he finished, which made him glance down and eye it for a moment. "On second thought, it might just be that stale-ass cornbread......" he muttered, bringing up his datapad. He sat their for several seconds starring straight into it's little screen, and, after much thought and consideration, flipped it off. He proceeded to exit his bunk, stretch his arms, and headed out. Eager to see if the poker game was still on, and was hoping Starnes wasn't flat broke yet.
After all, some quick cash might come in handy for a night on the town.......
The U.S.S. Berlin had just broke FTL within the Sol system only days ago and was now docked at U.S.C.M. space port 49. The crew had been granted an opportunity at some much needed home-leave and jumped at the chance. The issue at hand was that protocol dictated a 24 hour waiting period before clearance could be transferred through. As such, the marines aboard the massive frigate anxiously sat and passed the time as best they could. Hypersleep was not an option once docked. One such Colonial Marine was a Corporal First Class Benjamin "Face" Hicks Mason, service number #2528-92.
Ben was participating in his usual activity of lounging about in his bunk with his datapad, doing ever more research on Midas 14. Hearing the encroaching sound of boots, he quickly hid it undo his pillow rather then be mocked once again. The figure, now made visible, was not one unfamiliar to Ben. His long time buddy and fellow Delta 7 member, Joseph James Benson. A young, active, 6'3" african american. Joseph and Ben had a long history. They had gone through boot camp together, and had each served in the Delta 7 first responder's division for six years. "Yo Face! Where you at man, your missin' it! Brody started a poker game and Starnes' mouth is writing checks his ass can't cash again. You want in on this shit, you better mo-......" Joseph stopped mid sentence as he stared at Ben's glued-on 'I didn't do it' face and his suspicious positioning in his bunk. "Oh.... uhh.... hey, JJ. I think I might rain check." Joseph paused a moment before blurting out: "Okay, spill it. The hell's wrong now?"
Ben paused, a bit shocked by JJ's forwardness. "Nothing, why does something have to be wro-..... okay, that's a line of shit. I don't know, man. Just got this bad mojo or something. Probably just paranoid. And don't say it." Ben stated in an attempt at a preemptive strike against Joseph's questioning. It failed miserably. "You been on the web about your parents again, haven't you?" Joseph asked. Ben, in defense, shot out "What part of 'don't say it' didn't register? And no, I'm not. Do you guys really think I'm always on the- Hey! The fuck you doing?!" as Joseph jetted his arm underneath Ben's pillow, retrieving the hidden datapad. "Mmmmmmhmmmmmm....... Lucy, you got some 'splainin to do......." JJ quoted in a mocking spanish accent, holding the pad before him like evidence. Ben, snatching back his datapad, started to explain his case: "Okay, A: don't call me Lucy. B: that's not why I'm getting that bad vibe. And C: what I do in my own spare time is none of your god damn business, so stay out of it."
JJ leaned back a bit before continuing. "Stay out of it? Ben, my good friend, I have stayed out of it. Every home leave, every time we're off duty, every time a chance at fun presents itself and you shoot it down, I have stayed out of it. Just to make sure your not under some delusion that I'm staying out of it this time, Look at me, Ben. Read my fucking lips. Not. Happening. It ain't happenin' Ben. You and me? We're going to go out, get shit-face drunk, and have a night of various atrocities, felonies, and general bad decisions that we won't remember and will never live down for as long as we live! You know? Fun. You should try it some time." Ben looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, then replied in a mocking tone "You and I clearly have varying definitions of 'fun'." Joseph just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Look, point is you need to get out. I say we hit the clubs, find some ladies, put on the charms, and take those girls back to our respective places." "Since when does us putting the charms on girls and those girls sleeping with us have anything to do with each other?" asked Ben with a wise-ass reply. ".......... Yeah, we need to work on that a bit. But all the more reason to go out, man. We do this, and I promise you we will get laid. I don't care if it takes a girl who'll fuck for a buck, holla' for a dolla', and do something strange for a piece of change." Ben just chuckled lightly at JJ's proposition and replied "So your usual dates for the evening?" Joseph raised both his hands and stated in his defense: "Hey man, nothin' wrong with gettin' a little help from professionals once in a while."
Benjamin, in a spout of laughter, replied "Yeah, when they're actually a woman. Or did you forget what happened on Char?" JJ's head tilted back, face-palmed, then groaned his response. "Oh sweet Jesus I've been trying to forget that. Man, you better be keeping that shit to yourself. My momma would be falling in her grave if she heard 'bout that." "Which part? You hiring a prostitute? Or it turning out to be a man?" To this, Joseph just stared at Ben, who was now in tears struggling to contain his laughter. "Uh huh. Ha ha ha. That's right. Laugh it up, mother fucker. But look, you spend more then one day in that in that dinky little apartment of yours, and I swear I will kick your ass" JJ boasted, showing clear impatience in his voice. Ben looked up with a smirk and said "JJ, you couldn't kick my ass even if it was surgically grafted to your boot." "It will be when I'm done. I will kick down your goddamn door, drag you out by your vagina, and we're going to go swashbuckle." "What the fuck does that even mean?" At Ben's question, JJ attempted a quick answer: "Man it's when you.....uhhhh..... alright I don't know. But we are going to do it, Marine!"
Ben finally surrendered in an effort to end the conversation. "Alright! Alright. I'll do it, Jesus Christ." JJ smiled and bobbed his head a bit at his victory. "Alright, man! Friday night. Be there! I ain't messin', man" he spouted out as he exited the bunks. "God he's a persistent asshole" Ben bellyached as Joseph left the room. He leaned back in his bunk, taking in a deep breath. He held it a bit, till finally he slowly let it escape. "Still got that bad feeling in the pit of my gut, though." His stomach gargled and growled right as he finished, which made him glance down and eye it for a moment. "On second thought, it might just be that stale-ass cornbread......" he muttered, bringing up his datapad. He sat their for several seconds starring straight into it's little screen, and, after much thought and consideration, flipped it off. He proceeded to exit his bunk, stretch his arms, and headed out. Eager to see if the poker game was still on, and was hoping Starnes wasn't flat broke yet.
After all, some quick cash might come in handy for a night on the town.......
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She was dressed in the netting her father always wore and two metal plates that cover her chest , her spear was behind , a back up as she held her main one in her right hand. the skulls of a few past killed dangled from her neck. Oranalie looked over herself again to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything , Both spears , dagger , nets , and the double blades that was on her wrist , along with her boomerang.
Oranalie heard one of the Ellders say that they were about to land the ship. "Man, I was hoping to use the pods." Oranalie said and walked to her window , her mask still in her hand. It was dark outside the windows but Oranalie could make out a wall made of concrete that ran past the ship. " Where are we?" Ossilet asked , coming up from behind Oranalie to see what was so important outside the window , now he knew.
"I think it's a subway." Oranalie stated, "Human use it for transportation , at least that's what my father told me. This one appears to be abandoned." Ossilet shrugged and walked away.
Oranalie suddenly looked back as the shuttle door open. She stared at it not really sure what to do, she watched the other two predators and the human. Oranalie put on her mask and started walking out the shuttle door , the hunt begining....
Oranalie heard one of the Ellders say that they were about to land the ship. "Man, I was hoping to use the pods." Oranalie said and walked to her window , her mask still in her hand. It was dark outside the windows but Oranalie could make out a wall made of concrete that ran past the ship. " Where are we?" Ossilet asked , coming up from behind Oranalie to see what was so important outside the window , now he knew.
"I think it's a subway." Oranalie stated, "Human use it for transportation , at least that's what my father told me. This one appears to be abandoned." Ossilet shrugged and walked away.
Oranalie suddenly looked back as the shuttle door open. She stared at it not really sure what to do, she watched the other two predators and the human. Oranalie put on her mask and started walking out the shuttle door , the hunt begining....
As the shuttle door began to open, Nracha-dte and his apprentice stood up from the cozy little section of the inner hull they had rested upon a hour or so earlier. He noticed that the female Unblooded kept looking back at him, but he had simply pointed towards the exit. He didn't need to say anything, as his stern posture often silently spoke for him.
The first out was his apprentice, as usual. He was often one of the last to exit, covering the party's rear. Taking a final step off the edge of the ramp, Nracha-dta reached and activated his Sat-Com, and a holographic map of the city above appeared in his palm. With a grunt, he turned and waited for the rest of their small party.
The first out was his apprentice, as usual. He was often one of the last to exit, covering the party's rear. Taking a final step off the edge of the ramp, Nracha-dta reached and activated his Sat-Com, and a holographic map of the city above appeared in his palm. With a grunt, he turned and waited for the rest of their small party.
Red
The moments were ticking away, like grains of sand in an hour glass. Ni'Charak's wait was almost over, and he could feel it. A subtle rush of adrenaline. It had been far too many cycles since last he hunted. He had no need to gear up, for he had kept everything necessary on his person. Being on a foreign ship, with foreign hunters, of foreign clans, he thought it best to keep his equipment close. Placing his mask upon his face, Red began his personal networks systems analysis to make sure all of his gear was properly synced up.
///Scanning.....
///Performing Network Synchronization.....
///Processing.........
///Power Routing Connection Analysis.....
///Analyzing.....
///Power Surging At 0.23 Above Normal.....
///Adjusting.....
///Complete.
///Console Networking Analysis.....
///Analyzing.....
///Network Working At Peak Optimal Efficiency.
///Connecting Bio Helmet To Network.....
///Processing.....
///Complete.
///Scanning Shift Suit Field Stability.....
///Analyzing.....
///Shift Field Stability At 100%.
///Uploading Smart-Disc Targeting System Up-link.....
///Configuring.....
///Complete.
///Analyzing Plasma Caster Servo System.....
///Analyzing.....
///Servos Require Re-calibration.
///Calibrating.....
///Complete.
///Total Network Synchronization Completed.
Now there was but one vital component Ni'Charak needed to test. Himself. Red unsheathed his wrist blades and slowly brought them to his face. He marveled at their craftsmanship, their perfection. The beautiful secret they housed which made them so deadly. He twisted them ever so gently as he stood in admiration before bringing the right one down to his side. The sound of the blade slicing it's way through air brought a slight chuckle to his lips. He quickly brought it back up to it's former place whilst backhanding downwards with the left, his feet spreading apart into a more combat appropreate stance.
Ah, so familiar. The stance, the form, the fire. It was like a sleeping muscle, or perhaps a dormant memory. Always there, but the body almost forgot about it. Red could feel it again. The rythem, the muse of flurries and strikes that lay as possibilities before his fingertips. The Krimson Blades arced, slashed, and spun wildly striking at imaginary foes with furious volleys of attacks. Mid way through a windmill kick, Ni'Ckarak thought to himself "Enough of this child's play", he began with what started as a simple frontflip. However, as his shoulder's aligned with the ground, Red altered his movements and evolved it into a spiraling display of skill. His cloth slithered about him in the air, drawing dizzieing contrails that carefully traced his movements.
The time came to finally land his aerial exhibition and as his feet were less than a foot away from the ship's cold, metal floor, the storm did what it does best. It changed yet again, landing Red in a roll along the arc of his neck and spine. At last, Ni'Charak chose his last action in his chain of attacks, sweeping with a low kick followed closely by the back of his right wrist blade while the left uppercutted his invisible dying foe.
A devilish grin swept over him, as he sheathed his blades and bent backwards until his hands touched the same ground as his feet. He arced his back upwards, and in a series of surprisingly loud pops, his spine re-aligned into a much more flexible position. Lifting his feet off the floor, he committed to a handstand that made him as still as a stone pillar. At last, he twisted his arms, so that his shoulder's may pop the same as his spine into a much more useful state.
Red was satisfied with his body's preparation, as he used his arms to launch himself back to his starting location like a javelin. His feet touched the ground only for a nanosecond, before popping his body back up into the air in an extremely quick back flip, finally landing in a meditation-like stance with his legs crossed. Not a dreadlock out of place, nor a cloth ruffled. It was as if he had been in that position the entire time.
A voice came over the ship's intercom. An Elder? Why would the Elders keep track of a simple hunt? The answer came to him in the same mental rock to the back of his head that the realization arrived in. "The armor..... how could I have missed that? I scanned and scrutinized every aspect about the others except the fact that they were from different clans! How could I have missed that?" Ni'Charak thought, chastising himself for his lack of observation. He may have face-palmed if it wouldn't have been a dead give away of his mistake. No, he would keep this secret to himself. All the way to the grave if need be.
It later struck him that the larger one mentioned this, but Ni'Charak was too deep in thought to hear him at the time. "So.... this isn't a simple Elite taking a few youngbloods on a hunt, this was a mission for him. Why didn't he take his own ship? Every Elite has one. Did he not want his movements to be traced? That Elder clearly would know of his presence. And yet, he is still armed like he's expecting kiande amedha..... By the Paya, what is going on in MY Hunting Ground?' Red continued his train of thought in total silence.
There was a change in the wind, or rather a lack of wind, around the ship as it neared it's landing. It was time. Red tilted forward and rolled to his feet in one seamless motion. The ships doors slowly revealing their new surrounding. Ni'Charak looked back at Nracha-dte, expecting him to make the first move forward. He instead was surprised that the Elite motioned for the others to go forward ahead of him. Three different clans, all hunting in the same territory. "Every clan for himself, eh? Works for me" Red trilled as he moved towards the exit.
It finally had graced him. The cold, damp alien wind of this foreign world. It lightly kissed his chest and wrapped around his mask. His next actions were a blur even to himself. The urge overcame him, and it seemed as if that alien air had carried him with it. Far away from the others. Ni'Charak's next waking moment was on a rooftop of a eight story building. This lapse of consciousness didn't bother him, as he was surprised he lasted as long as he did. Red partly imagined himself practically boring a hole through the ships haul before it had even touched down.
He opened his wrist console and traced the ships signal, as to judge the distance between him and his new camp. Finding that he was less than a mile away, it would be foolish to hunt so close to the shuttle. The Krimson Blades chittered and chuckled, gazing upon the beauty of the sunset between the massive columns of glass and steel. And so, eager to find the turf that was to be "his", Ni'Charak leaped forward to a neighboring roof. Delving ever deeper into this Concrete Jungle.........
The moments were ticking away, like grains of sand in an hour glass. Ni'Charak's wait was almost over, and he could feel it. A subtle rush of adrenaline. It had been far too many cycles since last he hunted. He had no need to gear up, for he had kept everything necessary on his person. Being on a foreign ship, with foreign hunters, of foreign clans, he thought it best to keep his equipment close. Placing his mask upon his face, Red began his personal networks systems analysis to make sure all of his gear was properly synced up.
///Scanning.....
///Performing Network Synchronization.....
///Processing.........
///Power Routing Connection Analysis.....
///Analyzing.....
///Power Surging At 0.23 Above Normal.....
///Adjusting.....
///Complete.
///Console Networking Analysis.....
///Analyzing.....
///Network Working At Peak Optimal Efficiency.
///Connecting Bio Helmet To Network.....
///Processing.....
///Complete.
///Scanning Shift Suit Field Stability.....
///Analyzing.....
///Shift Field Stability At 100%.
///Uploading Smart-Disc Targeting System Up-link.....
///Configuring.....
///Complete.
///Analyzing Plasma Caster Servo System.....
///Analyzing.....
///Servos Require Re-calibration.
///Calibrating.....
///Complete.
///Total Network Synchronization Completed.
Now there was but one vital component Ni'Charak needed to test. Himself. Red unsheathed his wrist blades and slowly brought them to his face. He marveled at their craftsmanship, their perfection. The beautiful secret they housed which made them so deadly. He twisted them ever so gently as he stood in admiration before bringing the right one down to his side. The sound of the blade slicing it's way through air brought a slight chuckle to his lips. He quickly brought it back up to it's former place whilst backhanding downwards with the left, his feet spreading apart into a more combat appropreate stance.
Ah, so familiar. The stance, the form, the fire. It was like a sleeping muscle, or perhaps a dormant memory. Always there, but the body almost forgot about it. Red could feel it again. The rythem, the muse of flurries and strikes that lay as possibilities before his fingertips. The Krimson Blades arced, slashed, and spun wildly striking at imaginary foes with furious volleys of attacks. Mid way through a windmill kick, Ni'Ckarak thought to himself "Enough of this child's play", he began with what started as a simple frontflip. However, as his shoulder's aligned with the ground, Red altered his movements and evolved it into a spiraling display of skill. His cloth slithered about him in the air, drawing dizzieing contrails that carefully traced his movements.
The time came to finally land his aerial exhibition and as his feet were less than a foot away from the ship's cold, metal floor, the storm did what it does best. It changed yet again, landing Red in a roll along the arc of his neck and spine. At last, Ni'Charak chose his last action in his chain of attacks, sweeping with a low kick followed closely by the back of his right wrist blade while the left uppercutted his invisible dying foe.
A devilish grin swept over him, as he sheathed his blades and bent backwards until his hands touched the same ground as his feet. He arced his back upwards, and in a series of surprisingly loud pops, his spine re-aligned into a much more flexible position. Lifting his feet off the floor, he committed to a handstand that made him as still as a stone pillar. At last, he twisted his arms, so that his shoulder's may pop the same as his spine into a much more useful state.
Red was satisfied with his body's preparation, as he used his arms to launch himself back to his starting location like a javelin. His feet touched the ground only for a nanosecond, before popping his body back up into the air in an extremely quick back flip, finally landing in a meditation-like stance with his legs crossed. Not a dreadlock out of place, nor a cloth ruffled. It was as if he had been in that position the entire time.
A voice came over the ship's intercom. An Elder? Why would the Elders keep track of a simple hunt? The answer came to him in the same mental rock to the back of his head that the realization arrived in. "The armor..... how could I have missed that? I scanned and scrutinized every aspect about the others except the fact that they were from different clans! How could I have missed that?" Ni'Charak thought, chastising himself for his lack of observation. He may have face-palmed if it wouldn't have been a dead give away of his mistake. No, he would keep this secret to himself. All the way to the grave if need be.
It later struck him that the larger one mentioned this, but Ni'Charak was too deep in thought to hear him at the time. "So.... this isn't a simple Elite taking a few youngbloods on a hunt, this was a mission for him. Why didn't he take his own ship? Every Elite has one. Did he not want his movements to be traced? That Elder clearly would know of his presence. And yet, he is still armed like he's expecting kiande amedha..... By the Paya, what is going on in MY Hunting Ground?' Red continued his train of thought in total silence.
There was a change in the wind, or rather a lack of wind, around the ship as it neared it's landing. It was time. Red tilted forward and rolled to his feet in one seamless motion. The ships doors slowly revealing their new surrounding. Ni'Charak looked back at Nracha-dte, expecting him to make the first move forward. He instead was surprised that the Elite motioned for the others to go forward ahead of him. Three different clans, all hunting in the same territory. "Every clan for himself, eh? Works for me" Red trilled as he moved towards the exit.
It finally had graced him. The cold, damp alien wind of this foreign world. It lightly kissed his chest and wrapped around his mask. His next actions were a blur even to himself. The urge overcame him, and it seemed as if that alien air had carried him with it. Far away from the others. Ni'Charak's next waking moment was on a rooftop of a eight story building. This lapse of consciousness didn't bother him, as he was surprised he lasted as long as he did. Red partly imagined himself practically boring a hole through the ships haul before it had even touched down.
He opened his wrist console and traced the ships signal, as to judge the distance between him and his new camp. Finding that he was less than a mile away, it would be foolish to hunt so close to the shuttle. The Krimson Blades chittered and chuckled, gazing upon the beauty of the sunset between the massive columns of glass and steel. And so, eager to find the turf that was to be "his", Ni'Charak leaped forward to a neighboring roof. Delving ever deeper into this Concrete Jungle.........
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Oranalie and Ossilet rushed out of the ship and took off in a different direction than the three older yautjas , the two young bloods always worked as a team when it came to hunting. Even back at there village the two work always choose each other as hunting partners. Oranalie liked hunting with Ossilet because he was very good at using stealth , Ossilet was also the muslce in there group of two while Oranalie was the brains , she would usally observe the prey and finds its hunting habits.
The she-predator looked at her wrist console and pulled up a map of the city , she looked over the map quickly to get the layout of the city. Oranalie remembered that her father said it was always smart thinking to know ones landscape and how it was laid out. Ossilet looked up at the sky of the oomans world , it was sunset which was indicating that it would be dark soon. The male yautja looked over at his friend then around at his surroundings , biulds were everywhere , Ossilet climbed his way up onto one of the biuldings.
"Ossilet." Oranalie called to her companion. "I'm going to find a turf , you should do the same. Find one close to mine but spread out enough that we can cover a good amount of ground." Ossilet nodded his understanding , he wasn't to happy about splitting up but knew that whatever Oranalie thought was best he knew he could trust her. He jumped from roof to roof till he got to one side of the city with a shipping bay , the young yautja claimed the bay as his turf as he waited for a signal from his friend.
Oranalie watched as her friend dissappeared from sight , she scaled a biulding till she was on the roof. The sight from the biulding would make a great lookout but she was pretty sure the prey could see her up her , the biulding was big but not one that she could lookout from and the prey not see her. Oranalie spotted one of the elites who she thought his name was Red , the female turned away from where the elite was. Knowing her lucky she would get in a fight of turfs , she smiled when she saw a fairly good biulding to over look the city she knew she found her turf.
The she-predator looked at her wrist console and pulled up a map of the city , she looked over the map quickly to get the layout of the city. Oranalie remembered that her father said it was always smart thinking to know ones landscape and how it was laid out. Ossilet looked up at the sky of the oomans world , it was sunset which was indicating that it would be dark soon. The male yautja looked over at his friend then around at his surroundings , biulds were everywhere , Ossilet climbed his way up onto one of the biuldings.
"Ossilet." Oranalie called to her companion. "I'm going to find a turf , you should do the same. Find one close to mine but spread out enough that we can cover a good amount of ground." Ossilet nodded his understanding , he wasn't to happy about splitting up but knew that whatever Oranalie thought was best he knew he could trust her. He jumped from roof to roof till he got to one side of the city with a shipping bay , the young yautja claimed the bay as his turf as he waited for a signal from his friend.
Oranalie watched as her friend dissappeared from sight , she scaled a biulding till she was on the roof. The sight from the biulding would make a great lookout but she was pretty sure the prey could see her up her , the biulding was big but not one that she could lookout from and the prey not see her. Oranalie spotted one of the elites who she thought his name was Red , the female turned away from where the elite was. Knowing her lucky she would get in a fight of turfs , she smiled when she saw a fairly good biulding to over look the city she knew she found her turf.
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Anyus kneaded the sticky resin webbed across the wall as she waited impatiently to set out and retreive hosts for the hive. A low hiss sounded deeply from her throat. How much longer will The Mother wait untill sending out her drones? The hours were ticking by and time was running out for the eggs. Before they hatch, hosts must be provided.
Anyus growled and made her way down the wall and onto the ground where the eggs littered across the thick layer of fresh resin and hardened body parts of earlier slaughtered hosts. The blood of their limbs was aged and oozed from the floor. Anyus was careful not to brush against or damage any of the eggs as she walked on hind legs up to her queen and looked up at the massive xenomorph. She tilted her head and slightly curled her upper lip, giving off a questioning look.
Though The Queen seemed to be at rest, still and silent, she was not. For hours a troubling feeling ate from the pit of her gut and hesitated her from sending out her drones. And as the time ticked on, that feeling grew stronger. A deep hiss seeped slowly from her lips and began to slip her glistening head out from the inclosure of her "dome". Clear saliva trickled from between her lips and dripped from her chin. She then peeled back her wet lips and exposed long, glass-like teeth down towards Anyus.
At the sound of her mother's aggrivated hiss, Anyus cringed down. Lowering her smooth head and giving soft hisses. She didn't understand why The Queen showed aggression towards her. She flicked her bladed tail when The Queen closed her jaws and turned her head towards one of the chambers dripping walls. She stared at it for a moment, listening for any sound beyond it. Then, She angled her neck to peer up towards the concrete ceiling- which was the only part of the chamber that hadn't been covered thoroughly with resin- and gave another threatening hiss. Anyus followed The Queen's gaze, using her senses to pick up anything that might danger the hive. Although her sight and taste proved useless, she did hear something beyond the concrete ceiling, but it was nothing more than the distant hum of the city life above. Yet, The Queen sensed something more then that....
The Queen fell alert to her senses, and knew. They've found her... an ancient rival older then man itself has finally come to hunt her children. In this time, her strengths will most certainly be tested. With bared teeth, The Queen withdrew her expanded senses from the earth life above and placed her gaze on her army of xenomorphs. Telepathicly giving them the information which she gathered. A war was coming.
Anyus let out a furious screech and jerked her head towards her brothers and sisters now slithering from the wall and gathering upon the floor. They all snarled and lashed their tails aggressively, eager to leave the sewers and destroy the enemy.
Although anxious to seek out the rivals, the xenomorphs waited restless for orders from The Queen. A frown seemed to tace her lips as she peered over her children. No, there was too few and the eggs will soon hatch. If she sent out xenomorphs to fight, there would be none to retreive hosts. Only up to fifty xenomorphs, not counting the eggs, made up the hive and The Queen feared that her numbers were dangerously low against the Yautja. She let out a deep growl and peered down towards the leathery eggs that surrounded her. Also sending her concerns towards her children through her own mind that the task was too risky. Her main concern for now, was to provide humans for her young to strengthen the numbers of her army.
Anyus hissed sharply in protest. If the hive was in danger why wait another moment for the enemy to strike? But The Queen made up her decision, and sent Anyus and six other drones to leave and bring back hosts.
Anyus growled and made her way down the wall and onto the ground where the eggs littered across the thick layer of fresh resin and hardened body parts of earlier slaughtered hosts. The blood of their limbs was aged and oozed from the floor. Anyus was careful not to brush against or damage any of the eggs as she walked on hind legs up to her queen and looked up at the massive xenomorph. She tilted her head and slightly curled her upper lip, giving off a questioning look.
Though The Queen seemed to be at rest, still and silent, she was not. For hours a troubling feeling ate from the pit of her gut and hesitated her from sending out her drones. And as the time ticked on, that feeling grew stronger. A deep hiss seeped slowly from her lips and began to slip her glistening head out from the inclosure of her "dome". Clear saliva trickled from between her lips and dripped from her chin. She then peeled back her wet lips and exposed long, glass-like teeth down towards Anyus.
At the sound of her mother's aggrivated hiss, Anyus cringed down. Lowering her smooth head and giving soft hisses. She didn't understand why The Queen showed aggression towards her. She flicked her bladed tail when The Queen closed her jaws and turned her head towards one of the chambers dripping walls. She stared at it for a moment, listening for any sound beyond it. Then, She angled her neck to peer up towards the concrete ceiling- which was the only part of the chamber that hadn't been covered thoroughly with resin- and gave another threatening hiss. Anyus followed The Queen's gaze, using her senses to pick up anything that might danger the hive. Although her sight and taste proved useless, she did hear something beyond the concrete ceiling, but it was nothing more than the distant hum of the city life above. Yet, The Queen sensed something more then that....
The Queen fell alert to her senses, and knew. They've found her... an ancient rival older then man itself has finally come to hunt her children. In this time, her strengths will most certainly be tested. With bared teeth, The Queen withdrew her expanded senses from the earth life above and placed her gaze on her army of xenomorphs. Telepathicly giving them the information which she gathered. A war was coming.
Anyus let out a furious screech and jerked her head towards her brothers and sisters now slithering from the wall and gathering upon the floor. They all snarled and lashed their tails aggressively, eager to leave the sewers and destroy the enemy.
Although anxious to seek out the rivals, the xenomorphs waited restless for orders from The Queen. A frown seemed to tace her lips as she peered over her children. No, there was too few and the eggs will soon hatch. If she sent out xenomorphs to fight, there would be none to retreive hosts. Only up to fifty xenomorphs, not counting the eggs, made up the hive and The Queen feared that her numbers were dangerously low against the Yautja. She let out a deep growl and peered down towards the leathery eggs that surrounded her. Also sending her concerns towards her children through her own mind that the task was too risky. Her main concern for now, was to provide humans for her young to strengthen the numbers of her army.
Anyus hissed sharply in protest. If the hive was in danger why wait another moment for the enemy to strike? But The Queen made up her decision, and sent Anyus and six other drones to leave and bring back hosts.
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