A little bored in work, I like the novel 'PREY' best and so you might find I steal a few bits of vocab from there:
The air hung thick and still across the planets surface. No wind stirred and the deep and marshy footing gripped wherever weight was applied.
In the centre of a clearing a creature uncoiled to break the stillness of the moment. Folding out from seemingly nothing it rose to its full 7 foot height. The creature was an abomination of nature, blackest of black outer shell, insectoid looking movements and a head and face straight from a childs nightmare. The mouth slowly opened and a second, inner jaw, slowly slid out and gently snapped at the air, as a snake would extend its tongue to taste the air for prey.
This creature was also looking for prey, although not to strike and devour, instead to immobilise and transport back for a greater and more horrifying purpose. The nightmare had detected a small group of primate-esque creatures in a nearby treeline and they would be ideal hosts for the parasitic stage of the aliens lifecycle. Though just days old itself the nightmare had been born with all the knowledge and skills needed to aid in the survival and expansion of its species, and this would not be its first hunt.
The alien stretched as if to move towards the treeline before suddenly and savagely swinging to its right and emitting a low and horrifying and hiss, seemingly into thin air. A heartbeat passed, then the atmosphere seemed to crackle in six separate places and out of the thick and still air humanoid shapes materialised in a loose horseshoe around the alien.
Tavick, the leader of the group, surveyed the agitated creature. Young, he thought, no battle scars on the hide, no true warrior experience, yet still a challenge for his students. Turning he looked at his five charges in turn. They each strained for battle and looked at him with eyes demanding to be selected.
Although the students looked similar in their armour and near identical battle masks Tavick knew there was a marked difference in the fighters underneath. One student stood out from the rest and had already identified himself as a warrior of note, both now and in the future. Tavick's manibles clicked and one of the students stepped forward.
D'Juan was tall, lean and muscular, although not overly so. His prowess did not owe itself solely to gifts provided by nature. Instead his true danger lay in the skill which he coupled his these attributes. Tavick saw in his poise and movements all of the lessons he had tried to drum into the other students with less success. D'Juans combat skills were equally impressive, and he had the head of an elder upon his young shoulders.
Accepting the offer of combat he swiftly and silently unbuckled his shoulder cannon attachment and passed the apparatus to his mentor. Next he removed the net gun from its sheath on his forearm and also passed this across. Honour dictated that he was allowed to face his foe with wristblades, spear and ceremonial dagger. However D'Juan reached for the spear shaft on his back and removed the blade. One of the other students, Y'Uwich, hissed at this – rightly assuming D'Juan planned to further show off his prowess. D'Juans head snapped round with the speed of anger and the spear was thrown to embed itself at the feet of his mocker. Y'Uwich took the warning and stepped back, head bowed. Turning once more towards his opponent D'Juan drew the dagger and extended his wrist blades and stepped forward into combat.
The alien did not understand fear. It understood the beings before it were hostile but running away would only have been an option if the nest was in danger, or if there was a clear opportunity to regroup and ambush nearby. Neither of these were applicable and so its thought processes went to its primary commands, immobilise if possible, kill if necessary. The alien attacked.
D'Juan had expected the attack as soon as he had stepped forward and thus isolated himself from the group. Armed with only his two short weapons he appeared to be outmatched, however he had trained with these two weapons specifically in order to make a grand impression during the hunt.
He analysed the alien as it came towards him, keeping low and coiled. The creature was roughly his height, although he knew he had more weight behind him. This is of no consequence however, the Yautja had muscular strength compared to the aliens sinewy power. In a grapple it would be an even contest, however the alien had far more natural weapons at its disposal – this was no the way he wanted the fight to go.
Watching his opponent approach D'Juan went over all he knew, and all he had observed from other hunts. The alien was a machine built for death only. It could attack with speed, strength and agility, using claws, teeth or a razor sharp tail. It did not have a preferred method of attack, the best advice was not only to expect the unexpected but also expect the expected. The way the tail was bent and swaying drew D'Juan into anticipating its strike, suddenly the lunge with the inner jaws took him by surprise and he stumbled backwards, the tail came whipping overhead, arrowing for his chest.... and the Yajuda Warrior attacked.
D'Juan had faked the stumble to draw on the attack and now moved with a swiftness that betrayed countless hours of training and honing so that each movement was as surgical as the weapons he wielded. The dagger shot forward and caught the tail two thirds of the way up its length. The cut was clean and acid sprayed from the amputated stump, however the warrior was already on the move, despite the clinging mud beneath his feet his momentum carryed him clear to the side of the alien. A passing slash with the wristblades took the aliens arm at the elbow, then as it lunged with its remaining arm D'Juan swayed and cut down hard again with his dagger. The alien stumbled through the mire towards him and the Yajuda spun like a top away and around to finish directly behind the alien, he paused for a split second, then slid his dagger with precision into the base of the creatures neck. The alien quivered for an instant, then dropped like a stone.
D'Juan did not collect his trophy immediately, instead he waited, weapons dripping as his mentor approached. Tavick was impressed. Not often did you see a black warrior dispatched with such speed and flair, even by a more experienced hunter. To a casual onlooker it was a perfect and flawless victory. However Tavick was not a casual onlooker. D'Juan had not been quick enough to totally dodge the tail and so bore a small gash to the forearm which he tried to cover by angling it away from the older hunter. He had also been hampered by the mud when dodging the acid from the wounds and so had caught four or five small droplets to one side of his face which had cause the faintest of markings, giving his mask the ironic look of tears falling. Not flawless, yet still an impressive kill, Tavick voiced his acclamation and D'Juan bent to retrieve his trophy.
In his mind, his first of many.
