"Alouran go,alert Malus and Vev!",.
Delta hissed from his choking state.
"Move,go!". Hoping she would listen.
Delta re-capped what had happened,he'd shouted for Alouran,found her,then they where talking and them bastard hunters had attacked!.
scrambling for his webbing,he found the strength to open his shoulder holster,pull out his desert eagle.
As Delta didnt have the strength to aim as the combi-stick was literally stuck to his neck he fired into the midst of the Predator428.
The echo of the shots rang through the corridors.
He fell, on lucky shot had hit the combi-stick and it had lost its grip,but not destroyed.
Scooping up his pulse rifle and rolling over to slip out of the preds grasp just at the end of the room near the hangar, he crouched and shouldered his pulse rifle, and fired a M40B grenade at the preds knee and another two in quick succesion.
Not waiting to see the preds response.....or feel it for that matter he backed up to a bulk head.
Just 1 corridor away from the hangar!.

Shadowatching listened to his words, her mind blank and angry. Must keep mind of the rules, she told herself over and over again like a chant. She wanted one thing and that was to use any means necessary to kill the humans, even if it meant she went bad blood. But no, that wasn't her, not yet atleast. The female took the talkie and let it fall on the ground, the clatter of plastic and metal sounded as she moved with the pack, soon to dash down the hall before them.

Her clothing clung to her body, the feet not making much of a sound as she was as stealthy as possible. The visor was down for the moment of running towards the disrespectful human, whom she thought killed the beloved elder. The fingers tightened in a fist as she ran towards the humans, the visor going up to help navigate her way towards him. Being there, she loved the hunt, the thrill of the fight hell it was like heaven to her. Being able to let loose and scream in that bloody terror and that yell of triumph if she won or lost.

The mind reeling as the thoughts of the fight comming forth, giving her that need for a fight. That need for fun, that need for the blood on her hands so she can prove that she was more Yautja than human. Yes she looks human, but her thoughts are more yautja then anything else.

She wondered if this man, was still the same if she was there to kick his butt, still going to fight her. Or would he run off like that coward he was, when the place she was locked up at, when the sirens blaired around her and some how the straps was undone by another human. She almost broke his neck, but he saved her. Not this one, another she has yet to find him and wonder why he did such a thing and to tell him that, she wont' hold back if they fought.

But alas, here she was again with her clan, greatful yet pissed off. She wanted to kill all the humans, not let one go for saving her. But, that was apart of the honor code, letting one go if they helped, but not giving information out of course. She shook her head once, as the soft pounding of her feet ceased and the cloak was off, she stood right behind the man that alked to her on the walkie-talkie

"Say that to my face" She growled, he turned around to face her with a possible grin on his face. The hands of his closed in a fist, as he was pissed that she would call him a coward "Coward" She said growling as her hidden eyes narrowed and the corner's of her lips turned up in a snarl. The eyes closed for a moment as he spoke his piece before she would spring at him.

One hand went back and then started forth, closing the gap between the two in that punch. Anyone can block it right? Well of course they can, Malus took his hand and met her hand half way, grabbing it tightly in his bear like hand, trying to break her knuckles and small bones. The other did the same thing. He would probably laugh, or say something rude at this point.

A smile crossed her lips as her head dipped down as if in shame of the mess up of her actions. But her foot came up,before he can realize what she was doing. The foot connected with his chest, sending him back and breaking the once strong hold. She followed pushing up with her other foot and kicking him agian, further down the hallway.

She stood there, waiting for his return attack. Her foot reached back behind her, planting on the ground as her arms was both infront and behind her, like she would wield a sword. The fingers curled in to light fists, the body tensed, her muscles not yet straining.

(ONE)

Predator428 had heard the female soldier strike behind him, not caring as a gash was cut through his loincloth. Predator428 had simply delivered a strong back kick to her abdomen, ribs splintering as she flew backwards. Unfortunatly, the predator had lost his hold on Delta when he avoided the human's pistol round.

Predator428 growled in anger, chasing the fleeing human as he scooped up his fallen pulse rifle. The marine stopped his run to fire a pair of grenades at the predator's legs, not even bothering to aim. Predator428 rolled to the side, feeling the heat on his back as the explosives went off in the corridor behind him. Predator428 scrambed to his feet not wanting to lose the soldier as he made his way to the hangar.

The hunter reached for his smart disk and pulled it away from its holder, activating the tracking systems with a flick of a switch. Predator428 threw the weapon in a wide arch, sending the disk on a straight path towards the fleeing marine. The disk flew with deadly accuracy, slicing through Delta boy's lower left leg with little effort. The soldier fell to the deck, merely a few yards away from the hangar blast door.

Predator428 slowed to a walk as he caught the returning disk, replacing the weapon on his belt loop. The hunter reached the fallen marine, still crawling for the door just barely out of his reach. Predator428 reached for the door control, locking the blast door with a push of a button. The predator observed the fallen soldier, scanning his skull through helmet and flesh with thermal imaging. He could already imagine how it would look in his trophy room. Predator428 brought his combistick up, preparing to impale Delta where he laid.

Alot had happened, the last thing Bw remembered was the explosions, the smell of napalm and metal burning as the rounds peppered him and blew past every part of his body and ricocheted from the walls of the hall. Then the injured half breed of xeno and ooman lifting himself from the serrated spike, and dealing with the one known as Malus, taking his control from the metal contraption. He had helped the yautja, and was honorable, not to be killed. This one, DW, had retreated some time ago. Bw had also remembered a soft touch, soft voice, and intense pain coming to him.

Colors and thoughts swirled, and his eyes opened to a bright white light. Black Warrior, with some rest and a few hours, had nearly fully recovered. The metal bands covering his hand and ribs lay on the stone slab beside him, covered in clotted green blood. Looking down, Bw saw his healing wounds. The bulet wounds in his leg were visible, but completely healed, he was left with a soreness and slight muscle cramps. There was a large scab in his side, healing, covered in new scar tissue. Small burns covered most of Bw's right side, shrapnel left scars on his arms and legs, but were removed earlier. Sitting up a soreness and pain echoed through his face and chest, Bw's armor was also laying beside him, 5 holes gone through. The rounds of chaingun ammo were set in a small tin on a medical rack beside the slab. Looking at his reflection in his removed mask, Black Warrior saw 2 rounds in his left cheek, offsetting the clean scar below the left eye. Another hole also sat above his right eyebrow. These were healed with surprising speed, considering the strength of the rounds and the areas hit. Remembering his most worrisome wound, Bw checked his left hand. The hand wound was still quite bad, the bones not shattered but moved and dislocated, a hole penetrated but healing, with a large piece of dark tissue covering.

These wounds would be fully healed on the homeland, and there was still work to be done. In his mind BW thanked the assassin of Balatu known as Shadowatching.

The injured God of Death sat up, surveying the area around him. Lone hunter sat, in the room looking towards the cameras. Black Warrior barely remembered Predator428 and Shadowatching going on their way, obviously to take out the oomans that planned to retreat, or meet a challenge.

Replacing his beaten, torn, and burnt armor back in its place, he realized his mask was torn open, a large split from between the eyes, the forehead and mouth. He threw it all away, to be dealt with later and went on without it. Black Warrior was going to take Predator428 up on his offer, but needed equipment.
He took a lift to a lower level, the level where the hangar and The Waffle sat. His mostly uncovered body felt cold and chilled in the air of the empty corridors, his claws clanked against the steel grating of the floors in an echo. Instead of turning down the direction of the hangar he instead came to a room marked with a BW on the side, it was reserved for him, on visits to see his now dead family. Rage burned inside him like a hot fire as tears began to stream down his cheeks.

Punching a code the door slid open, and a vast room beautifully decorated was set infront of him. Secretly he had stored back-up weaponry and armor here, if he came from a hunt and was too battered and beaten to use his own armor, which would be in worse condition.

Black Warrior grabbed a heavy blackened glove from a backup weapons rack. He fit his injured hand into it, and clamped it at the wrist....it was a sort of cast, to help it heal correctly, flexible in holding, but effective in setting the bones in place.
New metal shone reflections onto his face, and the smoke colored armor awaited a possessor. Black Warrior put it on, clamping it and fitting it. The hemlet was clipped on, safely securing onto his scarred face. The vision clicked on and an array of blues, greens, and yellows aswell as reds enlightened his vision. None of Bw's weapons were damaged, so he fit those back into their place along new armor.

A widespread grin crossed Bw's face as he unloaded his right wrist gauntlet, and loaded another gauntlet on instead. The wristblades were nothing now, and as his wrist flicked, the large blade slid out with a menacing shriek. The gauntlet's emerald glint and dark shadowing color shown in the light of the room, the bright silver of the blade had a blinding streak. This was a weapon he had never the chance to use before. A weapon, most prized, set along side in the ranks with his naginata...the armblade...

Alouran heard Delta's shouting at her to get Malus but that heavy kick to her stomach sent her into a wall. It hurt so bad, she couldn't breath, her vision went red as she slumped against the far wall. A small gurgling sound escaped her before she started to choke up more blood. More pain, more blood, was that a bone fragment? Who knew, she wasn't going to pick it up and check to see. Her nose was bleeding now but she got to her feet again, the knife still in her hands she felt the handle press into the palm of her hand as she pushed up.

"Bendajo Yajuta.... Ass kissing, donkey raping..." the words spilled from her mouth almost as much as the blood did from her nose. Spinning the knife and catching it by the tip of the blade in unsteady fingers she felt the weak grip she had on it. Arm going up as the Yajuta raised it's arm to impale Delta she swung it forward, the knife flipped end of end till it was close enough to either sink into the Yajuta by the blade or just leave a bad bruise, either way Alouran wasn't going to hold her breath.

Hands flying over anything to use as a weapon she found nothing but the cord of her headphones. Maybe... Not. Hand going to her head set she fumbled with it just a bit before her voice cut threw the other headsets. "This is Alouran, I'm in.." her voice cut out "Need assistance, Yajuta threat..." Once again her voice cut over the com then silence on her end but her vitals still showed on the dropship monitor so she wasn't dead. "Oi! You Yajuta mama's boy! Come pick on someone.. well.. I'm not really your size but.. JUST KISS MY ASS!!" She patted her butt in a taunting manner and stuck her tongue out. Yeah, Alouran was smart, weaponless and taunting a nearly 8-9foot menace armed to the teeth in an empty hall if you didn't count Delta.

As Predator428 prepared to drive his combistick into the prone marine, the hunter felt a object hit the back of his head with a clunk. Predator428 held his strike, giving Delta a few more moments to live. He turned to see what had hit him, spotting a combat knife on the deck behind him. It was the female, recovered from his attack and still as loud as ever. The human had kept up her shouting, spewing a line of insults that Predator428 more or less understood. This filth was begining to annoy the hunter like no other.

Predator428 roared in yautja, "Quiet!" The predator reached down to his shin with a free hand and retrieved his netgun. The female attempted to run out of his aim. She was unsuccesful. Predator428 fired the copper-colored weapon, sending the clump of steel netting flying at the soldier. The female struck the wall soon afterward, held in place by the high tension wires digging into her skin and clothing.

Satisfied with her condition, Predator428 turned his attention back to the spot where Delta lay. The hunter grunted in suprise as he discovered that the soldier was missing. A line of crimson blood, trailing away from the severed limb on the deck, continued down a corridor to his left.

Predator428 considered his options. Should he deal with the ripe target already wrapped up for him? Or should he have a bit of fun and track down the other human. Predator428 supposed he could deal with the female now and then find Delta, but there were other ways to the hangar bay. The thought of letting any of the humans get away with their disrespect of the hunter's clan made his decision for him. Predator428 set off down the hallway, following the bloody trail as listened for the marine.

Malus Jay Darkblade gritted his teeth as he felt a rib break, and skidded to a halt some twenty meters from Shadowatching. Good, she wasn't so badly wounded that she wasn't able to fight. While it was a shame Nikkie hadn't done any more damage to her, Malus didn't feel like beating up someone unable to fight. And from the dull ache in his chest, he could tell that she was fighting fit. Excellent. It would make crushing her all the more satisfying. "Good, you're stronger than I expected. But strength alone won't be enough to defeat me." Malus said to her, speaking in his cold tones. His armour had absorbed the worst of the blow, but it still hurt like buggery.

It took a lot more than broken ribs to stop Malus, however. He narrowed his synthetic eyes and stared at her, noting that his M41S Pulse Rifle was already aimed at her. He considered pulling the trigger for a moment, before deciding against it. He would crush her with his bare hands instead. Still, didn't mean that his Pulse Rifle didn't make a good blunt instrument. He let his booted foot slide backwards slightly to give him a good start, and with a cry on his lips charged his foe. She was stronger than he, Malus knew that much, but he had speed on his side.

The sound of his footsteps echoed through the hallway as he sprinted with surprising speed towards his foe, his pale, scarred hands now gripping the extended stock of the Pulse Rifle, which was held down by his side. He instantly surveyed his opponent and tried to figure out her next move. He knew little of her fighting style, whilst chances were she'd seen him fighting enough to have a slight advantage. He'd have to be...unconventional. As he reached his foe, his charge stopped suddenly, his boots planted on the ground before her and no longer moving. He may not be particularly strong, being only human, but now he had momentum on his side.

Using the leftover force from the run, he swung the rifle as hard as he could in an uppercut, and before she could block it in time, the barrel of the rifle smashed into her mask with bone-crushing force. If she hadn't been wearing it, Malus was pretty sure her face would have been reduced to a pulp. The mask did it's job perfectly, though, and her face didn't even get bruised. Malus hadn't been intending on smashing her face in, though. A sickening crunch echoed as the mask was knocked clean off of the Hybrid's head, and sent spinning away towards a nearby doorway, sputtering sparks and broken.

His Pulse Rifle was also wrecked, bent and broken beyond any further use, even as a cudgel. Malus tossed it away, aware that it would only slow him down from now on, and that he would need every bit of speed he could in order to survive this fight. He returned to his guard position quickly, arms raised and fists clenched, ready to ward off any attack she sent at him.

He hadn't expected her to recover so quickly from that smack to the face, and while he was still raising his arms a fist caught him in the face with a force close to that of a runaway freight train. He was lifted fully off his feet and smashed into the cold metal floor of the hallway by the force of the punch, and for a moment was dazed. He tried his usual trick of cycling through vision modes to clear his head, but for some reason that didn't work. It took him a second to realize what had happened. Dammit. She damaged my eyes. Back to square one. He thought with a grimace as he immediatly got back onto his feet and dashed back in, closing the distance between them instantly.

It took a few moments for him to realize that his nose was broken. Again. The warm blood on his face and the dull throb told him all he needed to know. If this kept up, he'd need to get a new nose, he didn't want one so bent that he couldn't breathe properly. Luckily for him, though, he could quite easily breathe through his mouth, so he did so. Dammit, his attack had backfired. He'd have to do better. His arms up to guard him from attack, he brought his booted foot around in a classic leg breaker stomp. Using the momentum from the charge and from jumping back to his feet, he spun and brought his booted foot down onto her right knee with sufficient force to snap it like a twig. Or, so he hoped. As he brought his foot down, he realized that it looked like her entire leg was armoured.

Damn. This was probably gunna hurt his foot more than it hurt her.

At the same time, he decided to repay the punch that she had laid on her. As his foot slammed down, his fist shot out with the kind of speed that only Malus could bring about, straight towards her now exposed face.


(ONE)

The hybrid, listened to the humans words as he spoke them aloud. "I would shut up, Human" She spoke with venom in her words, the fists curled tighter as she prepared the strike, the breathing becoming deeper and deeper with each passing moment. Years of mediation and training, taught her that much, as she felt the movements before her as she moved fluidly through the air.

Her head snapped to the side, as the mask flew off of her face, the metal clanging as the eyes came in to view, Malus now caught the glimpses of her cold dead, shining like diamond eyes. They narrowed as she looked at him, her lips in that snarl as if touching her mask was death by touch. Her muscles danced as the fist went forth connecting ot his face, breaking the nsoe and shattering the figments that connected the fibers to his brain, able to shift. "Thats for having Yautja technology" She said, wondering where he gotten it from, so she can kill what ever yautja that gave the software to him.

She huffed as the body prepared itself, faster and harder, a speck of blood dotted her lip as the teeth gnashed in to the appendage on her face. The plush lips dying red by the stained blood. The fingers moved quickly in the next space of the fighting. her fingers parted, as the leg went up and down to connect to her knee, yes it did connect. It just dislocated, which hurt like a sonofabitch. Making her want to just use her weapons and be done with it. She won't use them...Oh no, not yet. This human hasn't even gotten the respect, shadow gave her weapons. He hasn't earned that right.

The knee went down as her own foot went up, not only her foot but both hands. Grabbing one of his, she pushed it towards her chest, pushing him forth, as the only foot, went up and connected again, sending him back only to push him back towards her. With a flick of one arm, she sent him down on the ground, her only hand moved and caused a small pain on his wrist. Its not broken, but her clawed nails dug in to that soft spot, between the two bones, rendering a small shock of deadness there.

She took her foot on his chest and kicked his side, sending him rolling. "I thought you were stronger" She taunted in his human words, her hand was dancing across the computer there, the console moved closed as she tilted her head before jumping agin for another attack.

Her body twisted, as the fist moved quickly. both legs tucked under, one higher the the next. She would rather walk with a limp, as she fought him then for her to fall at his hands. The fists went forth as the hurt knee, as his hand went to block and to move her leg, the other one that tucked under more, shot out to hit him as well. A bad stomachache would follow as well as the burning of the throat, like acid reflex.

(two) and malus, this is internal damage you received. One of them)

Malus was sprawled on the floor, cursing his bad luck and own lack of skill. He was better than this, dammit. He'd managed to almost take down an elder before, why was this little hybrid giving him so much trouble? Of course, he wasn't using his weapons now, but still. He knew he should be doing better than this. He thought back to the long hours he'd spent learning unarmed combat with Perez back when he was a kid. Jeet-Kune-Do, the style he'd been taught was called. The Dragon. He'd hoped he'd be able to beat her without it, but she was far stronger than he had anticipated. This hybrid was a master of unarmed combat, and he'd been stupid enough to take her on her own level. Dammit, he should have shot her.

But no. He wasn't going to resort to that. Not unless he had no other choice. Sprawled on the floor, he heard something behind him and rolled until his back was on the cold metal floor, looking up. She was jumping towards him, most likely to bring a foot down on his face and finish him for good. Malus grinned, she had underestimated his speed. Now with a warcry that echoed through the hallway he sprung to his feet and ducked to one side until she was behind him, or more to the point, until he was behind her. As she landed on the ground a booted foot swung from seemingly nowhere, accompanied with another cry as it connected with the back of her head. Barefoot, it would have caused a lot of pain, but nothing more. Malus, however, was wearing combat boots, and they lent his spinning back-kick the force it needed to knock her entirely off of her feet and send her sprawling to the ground.

Unlike her, he didn't say anything as she was sprawled at his feet, and he wasn't going to commit himself to a submission attack. She was still too strong for that to work, and he'd probably be rewarded with something nasty. He brought his fists to his sides, and his muscles rippled as he slowly opened his palms into a resting stance. He started to go into the classic Jeet Kune Do fighting stance, almost dancing on the spot. For the first time in years, a grin appeared on his pale face as he slowly circled her, as she got to her feet. This was better. He shouldn't commit himself to slower, flashier attacks. His skill was speed, and indeed he was the fastest human in existence, or so his medical records had said.

Time for him to speed things up. The moment she was back on her feet, he was there. Her face and stomache area was unarmoured, and her knee was now dislocated. His right hand was still numb, so he didn't bother using it. Three rapid punches from his left hand struck her face, then a side-kick from his foot, right into her stomach. Heel-first, the kick was deadly, though what damage it mananged to do was yet to be seen. He was out of range as soon as his foot came back from the kick, and he returned to a respectable distance, dancing on the spot. He winced as the effort aggravated his side, where she'd kicked him. If he'd lost yet another kidney, he was going to be really mad.

"You're good. I'll give you that. Whomever taught you your moves deserves a medal. You're stronger than me, but raw strength only means so much in battle." Malus said, as he switched from stance to stance to stance, circling around her. His arms were by his sides, but he would react instantly to any move he made. His reflexes, combined with his speed and the unique fighting style he employed meant that he'd be ready for anything she tried. Or so he hoped.

(TWO)

Back on subject, her eyes locked with his in that deadly glare as if she was wondering who was better, him or her. She would of spoke more, but actions speaks a lot. She wondered why he would stand like that, but hey that's humans for her she pondered, not on her next actions as before, but of his next ones. Her hands shot out as well as one foot. Moving quickly,. she grabbed one hand just as his fist shot out, trying to get her before she gotten him Tough break, she smiled lightly as the lips pursed together tightly letting a black line cross them.

Feeling the air at her neck, the sensitive scar was there, being teased, her eyes would of darkened if they can change color, but they went colder deader even. The reflex caused her to duck down and she found herself on the ground, moving from that kick. Turning over on her back, ready to get up. but she found that he was there. His hand caused her to go down again, this time her foot went out and kicked his inner thigh, right near his groin, he didn't feel it for now, it was that quick and that light. But later, he would feel it like a charlie horse.

A light crouch at her legs, as she squatted slightly, not to far down to hurt her muscles and easier target for him. But enough where, she can still move and be able to be quick at her feet. With quick movements of her feet, she was again before the male that killed her elder. "You can think my old clan" She said with a growl, not remembering her teacher, but she remembered one of them testing her as soon as she was able to walk and she marked his calf, yes he still has the mark to this very day.

Back on hand, as the body of her's flattened more against the ground almost in a pure split, her hands straight as she waited for his fist to come down at her. The hand moved her body moved, up towards him. THe un-numbed hand, went in to her iron fist, the wrist locked in the hand, as the fingers went around. She flicked his wrist, the flat of his hand went in her palm, going down the strain of muscles pulled at his arm as the hand went towards the inner part of his arm, the smooth part. The other hand moved around, going towards his elbow, smashing it backwards, where it would bend the opposite direction going in and not out as it should be. The foot came up and tucked towards her ass, the knee going towards his stomach again as she released him. THe kick was just enough to send him back again, not much just a stab a reminder, of that pain in his stomach.

Shadow crouched, ready to strike. her arms flat out, one infront, the other in back. One to shield what looked like the sun from her face, the other parallel to her leg that was also planted behind her. The hand moved, from her face to the front a few fingers wiggled as she smiled a deadly smile "Oh lets see more" She cooed darkly

(THree)

Delta screamed as the circular blade had ripped a hole in his leg, Which means no sprinting or running.
Pain cycled through him but he had to keep focused,.
Delta knew he was going to lose this fight, but he was going to go out with some major damage.
Discovering Alouran was still there helping him was good,as if she wasnt he'd be dead by now.
As Pred428 swung round to try swipe at Alouran, He once again scooped up his barely working Pulse Rifle and aimed point blank at the Pred428's hands.
The 10MM caseless rounds tore through them he worked the left first and then quickly the right and it was pretty much eviscerated by 40 rounds each as it was literally centimeters away.

With Alourans diversion aswell as the shooting it had happened so fast he probably didnt know what had hit him.
Delta crawled away around a corner.Re grouped his strength and sluggishly got into a ready stance.
What had happened Alouran?.
He saw the corridor come a halt and a man sized vent was stuck there.
A way to the hangar?,. He thought.
Maybe but he wasnt leaving Alouran for them barbarians to put her on their mantel piece.
Delta retearted down the hall and found the 8ft tall 300 pound hunter pounder after him its immense pressure of muscle and weight was a dispiriting sight.
"If you think im leaving without her you've got something wrong in that ugly head of yours".
Delta said.
He wondered how the hunter felt about his hands and was probably filled with rage.
His leg leaked blood and it was shaking from the injury. He'd need to patch it up quick after this fight.Assuming he wins it.
Looks like a clean lacerated wound, clean ripped through the lower leg.
Delta limped forward in a ready position with the Pulse Rifle and the now reloaded grenade launcher.
Aimed at the Preds legs with a comfortable grip.
Waiting for his response .


(If this is god-modding,.Sorry i will change it right away if it is.)

Predator428 stood in a low stance, facing the injured soldier backed up against the wall. Delta was in a half crouch, supporting his mangled leg by leaning against the corridor wall. The soldier currently had his rifle up and ready, waiting to see what Predator428's next move would be. Thanks to him, it certainly wouldn't involve his netgun.

The human filth had taken advangate of his momentary lapse in concentration, taking the time to shoot the hand holding his netgun. Predator428 had left the weapon, along with three of his severed fingers, behind in the hallway. Predator428 just shrugged it off, he had more important matters to deal with. Right now, he was only concerned with preventing the human's escape. Delta had backed himself into a wall, merely a few feet away from an open maintenance hatch. In full armor and weaponry, Predator428 was too big to fit through the opening. If the marine managed to get inside it, the hunter would be denied his prize. He couldn't allow that now could he?

It was a stand-off, both combatants waiting for their opponents to make a mistake. A low growl began to rumble from the back of the predator's throat, hand clenched tightly around his combistick. The wristblades on his other arm were already ejected, not requiring the use of all of his hand. The marine had his pulse rifle aimed at his legs, undoubtably set on the grenade launcher trigger. Predator428 was growing restless, he had never been one for a stand-off.

Predator428 sprung to action, his bulk shaking the deck as he sprinted towards Delta. The marine fired a pair of grenades from his weapon, holding his ground like an animal driven into an alley. The first projectile flew wide, wizzing past Predator428's waist and flying under his arm. The second round struck its mark, impacting the predator's right shin armor with a loud explosion.

There was something to be said for yautja metals, the material actually managed to save most of the leg. But it wasn't perfect. The armor plating had cracked on impact, sending fragments of white hot metal straight into the fleshy part of the predator's calf. The skin on his knee and lower thigh was almost completely burned off as the explosive round detonated. The blast knocked Predator428's leg out from under him, his momentum flinging him close to the prone soldier. His combistick clattered to the deck, sliding a few meters down the corridor.

Delta rolled onto his belly and dove rifle first into the hatchway, seeing his salvation in his reach. The marine would have almost certainly made it in, if not for Predator428's hand clamping down on his ankle. With a roar of rage, the hunter yanked Delta out of the hatch, chest armor scrapping against the deck as he was dragged. The marine attempted to bring his rifle up, rolling over to get a bead on the prone predator beside him.

Predator428 lashed out, clawed hand wrapping around the barrel of the weapon before it could be aimed. The predator snapped his arm up, plowing the barrel of the weapon straight into Delta's face. The metal contraption slammed into the lower part of his face, breaking three of Delta's front teeth as his visor was shattered. Predator428 pulled the weapon back, hitting the marine with his own rifle a second time. The barrel smashed into Delta's nose this time, crushing the fleshy appendage with a sharp snap.

The marine rolled into his back in pain, hands clutching his gas mask as it began to fill with blood. Predator428 climbed to his feet, struggling to stand with his injured leg. The hybrid's painkillers were still doing their job, easing enough of the pain to allow the hunter to function. Predator428 spotted the discared pulse rifle next to the fallen soldier. The hunter raised a clawed foot and crushed the weapon with a fierce stomp. The soldier's weapon broke in half, digital ammo readout fadding away like the light from a newly made corpse's eyes.

Quickly jumping to his feet he was still shaky on his feet.
He un-clipped his own helmet and it feel to the floor the ballistic visor cracked from the blow and blood poured down Deltas face.
So his pulse rifel was in 100 pieces on the floor next to him, but he still had his KA-bar knife, Desert Eagle and his thermite grenades.
Pulling out his Desert Eagle in the left and the knife in the right in a Tactical grip downward thrust position.
"Im not new to your kind", Delta said.
"You think i havent been stabbed with that before?".
Mocking at him and cu'ing to the wristblade.
Remembering 'Descending Fate'.
He looked over to Alouran and saw the new close in on her even though the M3 combat armour had protected her especially her shin and elbow armour.
She was trying to cut it open but the wireframe net still tryed to squeeze itself more and more.
Delta looked over to the pred once more.

He lunged, slicing the back of his knee the soft part of flesh and hoping he would hit a nerve.
He jumped back to avoid a heavy blow and fired his Desert Eagle at the right knee.
7 357. Magnum rounds blew threw the already damaged leg from the grenades.
Hoping the bastard felt it.
He hopped over to Alourans aid and tried to cut the net.

(Is the Netgun your using based from the film or the games?.)

Predator428 growled as he fell to one knee, his already damaged one giving way to the new injuries. The predator ignored the wounds in the appendage, ever aware of the pistol round still buried inside.

Delta turned away from the fallen predator and began to limp away, undoubtably trying to help his female comrade. Predator428's arm snapped out, seizing the marine's leg as he tried to escape the predator's reach. The hunter pulled the soldier's leg out from under him, causing Delta to fall face first onto the deck. The marine's handgun slipped from his grip as he was dragged backwards toward the predator, other hand still clentching his combat knife.

Predator428 grabbed a fist full of uniform and flipped the soldier onto his back. Delta gave a cry of effort as he brought his knife back, stabbing the weapon into Predator428's shoulder. The serrated edges of the blade caught themselves on the flesh as it entered, anchoring the knife deep inside the hunter's shoulder. Predator428 grabbed the soldier's knife arm and forced it back, leaving the weapon still stuck in him. The predator pinned the marine's arm onto the deck, bringing his wristblades back for a forward stab.

Delta's brow furrowed in anger, letting out another cry as he threw a left hook with his free arm. The soldier's gloved fist smacked his mask, knocking Predator428's head to the side under the blow. The hunter simply turned his gaze back to Delta's, anger filled eyes hidden by his goggles. Predator428 grabbed a chunk of the marine's hair and pulled it back, slamming Delta's head onto the deck. The impact gave off a wet smack as blood began to leak from the contusion.

Predator428 brought his wristblades back again, bringing them over the stunned marine's arm. The hunter gave a fierce roar as he delivered his strike, blades cleaving through flesh and bone as the elbow was severed. The limb rolled off to the side as blood began to poor from the stump of Delta's arm.

The blade slid back into its gauntlet, keeping hidden. Stepping out of the room, words echoed through Bw's mind.

"This is Malus Jay Darkblade. As of now, Vevlaa is in control of this operation. You are to evacuate as per his orders and do whatever the hell he tells you. Operation Lost Souls is over. Now, your primary and only objective is to get out of here alive..."

Black Warrior could not remember where he heard this, most obviously from Shadowatching's walkie talkie, but he couldnt have been concious. Anger burned inside him, this was nothing but an operation to them, orders...the last sentence of what he remembered the ooman saying would not be fufilled...
The name was recognized, Malus had been the one to attack Predator428 and himself, aswell as call out Shadowatching, and now she most certainly was fighing him. Predator428 was out, most likely in a fight aswell.
Hoping Predator428 had not taken his plan, Black Warrior walked to the left of a corridor, a long walk with a series of slight turns. The air grew colder, leaving mist on the newly accquired armor of the hunter. Before opening a secondary entrance that led to the hangar, Bw punched a series of lighted controls on his left wristcomp. The massive beast of a yautja seemingly disappeared into thin air, only noticed by a slight change in the shape of the space.

His heels softly clicked as he opened the sliding door into the hangar, and walked out, he was to the far left corner away from the blast door, and behind the dropship known as "The Waffle".
A loud humming was clearly audible as the dropship seemingly prepared for liftoff, but from what he thought, the pilot would be waiting for the others of his squad to return...and that wouldnt be happening, not with Shadowatching and Predator428 out there.

Upon closer inspection, Black Warrior noticed the group of sentry guns standing by. He reached towards his waist and unclipped 2 small circular objects. EMP bombs. Throwing them, they skidded across the floor and emitted a blue light, the sentries sizzled and shutoff. The stealthy hunter walked around to the right side of the dropship, careful not to make any mistakes and give more of himself away. The front of the dropship was now facing Black Warrior, its front leg holding to keep it up, the ramp was still down on the underside. Peering up with his thermal vision he saw a bright red and yellow heat signature, two actually. Crouching down, Black Warrior readied his jump. A loud sound of crunching metal spread throughout the hangar as the hunter realeased and sprung onto the hood of the massive human vehicle, directly in front of the windshield. The two pilots stopped staring at the haywire controls of the waffle, and stared infront of them, unable to see anything...

The deadly armblade slid from its gauntlet, seemingly suspended in midair. The pilot to the left of Bw's vision panicked, and the blade crashed through the windshield, shattering the enforced glass upon impact. The armblade found its place in the pilots chest, his warm crimson blood sputtered and gushed against the shattered remains of glass laying in his lap.

The second pilot reached for his glock. The armblade slid out from his comrade, and hung in the air next to his face, drenched in blood. The desert eagle was brought up and fired, but the shot missed, passing next to the odd mass of rippling air. An unseen force clinched it's grip tight around the pilot's neck, and ripped him from the cockpit. The seatbelts securing him in place stretched and broke from their holsters. The pilot hit the floor of the hangar with a resounding thud and skid to a stop.

Another thud followed as the hunter dropped down, electricity racing up his form as he decloaked.
Black Warrior had found him, the one who had organized the attempted escape, and who apparently now had leadership of this 'operation'...Vevlaa...

Alouran watched the pred turn from Delta to regard her, sensing it's agitation the grin on her face wavered just a bit till it forced it's way back up when she saw that net gun aimed at her. Shook her butt at him once more before trying to get out of the way. That didn't work she was to slow, now pinned to a wall by a net she fumed like a cat getting tossed in a bathtub of water.

The net was taunt against her body, it hurt to feel that thick wiring dig into different parts of her body with each struggling move. She looked at her knife, sitting on the floor just feet away seemingly laughing at her for throwing it. "Shut up.." she muttered at the knife. Managing to move her arms from her sides to her chest she pushed and pressed against the wires. The shouting from Delta and the predator spurred the girl on to get out of the net but it wouldn't budge.

Growling loudly and threw herself against it again and again to the point she had herself choking up more blood. Sagging against the only slightly looser net she sighed. The metal was cool against her hot face but she remained quiet for a few moments longer before digging around in her pockets, or atleast the ones she could reach. Hands brushing that pistol at her side made her smile but a close look down told her she wasn't gonna get it out of the holster. A growl escaped her lips before she started to thrash again.

Looking up she saw Delta coming over to her and his knife out trying to cut the metal wire, the predator moved and she struggled against her netting again. "Watch out!" she shouted as she thrashed more.

"Hah hah hah..." Malus laughed humorlessly as he slumped on the floor, apparently not even listening to her words, possibly dazed, possible with a concussion. The armour he was wearing had held up to the worst of her attacks, and he knew it would continue to do so. That didn't help matters with his left arm, however. As she spoke, he continued to laugh and reached into his Combat Webbing. He had originally been a Combat Medic when he had joined Alpha Draconis, and always kept a spare medkit on his person at all times. A customized medkit. He drew from it a smaller version of the armour that protected his shins and knees. M3 Shin Armour, sized perfectly. Not only was the armour good for stopping shrapnel, but it had trauma padding on the inside.

Malus found that it was perfect for use as an improvised splint. As she finished her little speech he clamped it over his broken arm and experimentally flexed his fingers. Blinding white agony shot up his wounded arm, but he was still able to move them. Good, although his bones were broken his muscles were not too badly damaged. The pain was nothing, it would not slow Malus down. As he got to his feet, his wounded arm hung limply by his side, brushing against his boot. "Ah hah hah..." He continued to laugh, his voice low and chilling, somehow able to find his pain funny.

Malus had suffered far worse than broken bones. He'd lost the damaged hand before, sliced clean off at the wrist. Compared to that, a simple fracture -now supported and protected by the armoured splint- was nothing. He spoke as his wounded arm moved quickly, shooting up towards her from his safe distance against the wall, so blindingly fast that his arm was nothing but a blur. The movement was mostly in his shoulder, so his damaged bones were not too badly aggravated, although Malus did let out a low growl from pain as his arm did his bidding. A glint of something polished could be seen from his palm, and a moment later the dull Thwack of metal sliding through flesh and bone could be heard, followed by a dull Thud as something parted the Metal.

Malus's personal combat knife -like all of his close combat weapons- was carved from the bones of a Xenomorph Queen, and this one he had designed and carved himself. He had made is especially as a stabbing or flaying weapon, and it was perfectly balanced for throwing. He had sharpened the blade so much that he had to use a metal holster on his boot for it, anything just got cut to ribbons. Monomolecular blade, they called it. And it had performed beautifully, now buried to it's hilt in both the palm of Shadowatching's right hand, and into the wall behind her, keeping her pinned in place. The weapon was cruelly barbed, and there was no handguard in place.

Her hand was pinned to the wall, and the blade was so sharp that if she tried to remove the blade from the wall, she would remove the blade from her hand in the process. And the weapon was designed so that if it left it's target, it did an insane amount of damage. She was faced with a cruel choice: Keep her hand and remain pinned to the wall, or free herself and lose her right hand. And the blade was at the size and in the right spot of her hand, to ensure that everything before the thumb would go if the blade was moved. This was Malus at his best, calculating, cold, and thinking on his feet.

Unlike Shadowatching, he did not speak. He didn't let anything distract him. His laughing paused as he reached with his good arm for his M41A Pulse Rifle. It was useless as a weapon, sure. But, it made a perfect blunt instrument. He charged forward without warning, one moment standing with his arm outstretched, the next closing the distance in between them. He swung the blunt weapon with both of his hands at her unarmoured and damaged leg -he could not see clearly that there was no armour protecting her there- He was nowhere near as strong as her, but with the momentum of his charge and the Pulse Rifle as a weapon, he smashed the metal into her leg, in exactly the same place were he had before.

Both his Pulse Rifle and the bone in her leg were shattered. Not just broken, but shattered. The bone of her left leg -just above the knee- sheared through the flesh on the back of her leg and poked out, splintered so badly it wasn't even sharp. Before she could sort out any kind of splint, she'd need to move the leg back into the skin. And he doubted she had the endurance to be able to take that kind of pain. And, no matter how tough she was, that leg was no longer taking any kind of weight. No way in hell. It was to her credit that she didn't slump or fall over immediatly, her good leg supporting all of her weight.

She'd be able to stand. Probably crawl, too. But run? Never. Walk? Unlikely. Not with the state her leg was now in. Still, the pain in Malus's arm as he broke the rifle on her leg was immense, and he cried out in agony. Luckily, his armoured and improvised splint prevented more damage to his arm, but the moment of distraction was enough for Shadowatching.

Her good hand found his throat, and for the second time in a hour he was lifted off his feet by his throat, by a Yautja. Or by a being with Yautja DNA. Whatever. Malus started to choke as her hand squeezed, slowly crushing his neck, and the life from him. Not today. Malus thought as his head throbbed and his vision wavered. "No...I wont...-kaff-...go like...-Kaff-...this!" Malus spluttered as he felt on his belt for something, anything.

His good hand found his welding torch, and almost instantly he had it pointed at her fingers. He closed his eyes and switched it on. He succeeded in burning off his own left ear. His scream of pain was muffled by the lack of oxygen he could get from his lungs to his mouth. He re-adjusted his arm, and by the stink of flesh burning and the lack of agonizing pain, he knew he was on target this time. Then the pain started again. There went his Pinkie. Ow. The moment she realized what he was doing, she threw him away, and he landed head-first against a nearby wall. He thumbed off the torch before he hurt himself anymore, and slowly got to his feet.

Her thumb and forefinger of her left hand was now gone, sitting by his own feet. There was no blood, as the torch had cauterized the wound. Holding his burned hear with his bad left hand, he struggled to his feet. "Fuckin...half-breed....bitch..." He managed to say, before coughing again, clearing his airway. His vision cleared and his lungs started to work again. Breathe in. Breathe out. Good. He dropped to a low crouch, his Jeet-Kune-Do dropped in favour of caution. He didn't want to damage his arm anymore, and if he tried Jeet-Kune-Do, he'd bust his arm more before he even realized what he was doing.

He backed away down the hallway until he was almost 30 meters away from her, right in the centre of the hallway so that she couldn't use the same trick on him that he'd used on her. He slowed down his breathing and prepared for her response.

(THREE)

THe knife impaled her hand, not as far as he wished, but enough to keep her hand there, a gentle flow of blood trickled from the hand, flowing down the arm and off the elbow. ONe foot planted infront of the other, to block the pain and to keep the knee in perfect condition, but she planted the wrong one as the better hand went to pull the dagger. THe gun of his went to her leg and splintered it, sending the bone back through the calf and sticking out. She howled in pain, making his laughter in a taunt in her mind.

Her good hand went and closed the digits around his neck. THe nails going in the skin, just behind the jugular, making his neck bleed, bleeding him slowly. She growled and then a howl of pain crossed her hand as he used the torch, burning her fingers and his own face. What atrocity she thought, such horror of doing such a thing. Regardless of that, a foot went out to kick him, kicking that outer thigh, giving him a wicked charlie horse, a fracture in his upper leg. If he pivoted the wrong way, or pushed on it the wrong way the bone would snap. He can't tell this yet, but soon he would. A nice welt was there as the knife was sticking out. She kicked again, this time in his shin, stabbing the small blade in his calf, cutting a nice chunk of flesh out.

She growled as he turned to leave, to her it looked like it. But, he was doing distance, making her walk. The good hand went forth and ripped the knife from the wall, but left it in her hand. Pushing it he rest of the way and out, since the serrated blade is in one direction and the best way to do anything is to push it through. The blood trickled faster, flowing down the arm still. She growled as the muscles hurt like hell, the blinding pain for some, her it was pleasure. The knife fell to the ground as she leaned against the wall.


Reaching with her better hand, the none knifed one, picked up the net gun and shot it at him. He turned a little to late, before he can even process a thought, he was on the ground. The barbs in the metal of the floor, the netting going as deep as it can go, without killing. She took her sword and unsheathed it using the tip as it was hard enough metal that it would be extremely hard to break she lumbared over as quickly as she can. taking the sword and stabbing his shoulder of the good arm. With a flick of her wrist, she sent it to nothingness. it wasn't off of his shoulder, it wasn't cut off, just dislocated enough that surgery would fix it. She took the sword again and moved to stab his stomach, when his injured hand went forth and swiped at it, taking it from the straight on force to that of next to him, slicing the side of his armor deeply, deep enough to mark the skin.

Her body on fire, as he moved again, trying to get out of the netting, that he knew nothing but her own weapon can cut it fully off. It has to be from the top to bottom, or around his body to be able to escape. Trying to wrestle the blade from her, she used her weight to pin it, while the broken leg as she can use it still, just would be growling and howling in pain. She kicked his side, the foot going up to the hand that has his blade.

A finger pressed the trigger and out it popped. She forth again, went to kick his side, letting the momentum move the blade towards him as the good foot was still there, she was arched almost, so that the good foot was out of his reach, but the rest of her body, was well with in for now.The other hand moved to her stomach, the tip of his dagger in the hand, as loosely as possible, yet the fingers curled around it. She let it drop by his face, hoping to cut or kill him..

(four)

Agony surged through Delta. The wristblade had cleanly dissected his arm from the elbow down.
Blood spurted from everywhere, he would need to apply pressure to it soon enough or he would bleed out.
He checked for options.
Pulse rifle gone, Desert Eagle half way across the floor
and his knife was in his severed arm on the bloody strewn floor next to him.
The pain had been enormous, he'd need a mechanical one if he made it out alive.
He wasnt going to let them take his head that was for sure!. And at least try to give Alouran a chance.

The pred looked down at him, howling for his blood and his skull for his trophy room.
He was bleeding in several places but he didnt seem to care.So much devotion to hunting and killing, he briefly wondered what type of pred he was. A blooded hunter, thats for sure.
The pred pulled Delta up to breathing distance and it laughed in its gutural tongue at Deltas discomfort.
"Well",. Delta said. "Heres a little something to remember me by".
Reaching for his 4-stack of his own custom Thermite grenades, careful not to let the Pred428 see.
He quickly thumbed the pin on one with his good hand and pushed 2 down into Pred428's chest armour plate.
Luckily Pred428's recent fights with the Queen,Malus and Xuess provided a gate way for Delta to use.
Pred 428 warbled in suprise, wondering what Delta had managed to get stuck in Pred428's breastplate.If he only knew. Which meant an open way to his flesh and a lethal explosion to his heart and other organs.

The Thermite grenades is a type of incidenary grenade,but it delivers a napalm force and effect on the victim.
And another special feature is that it spreads dozes of shrapnel when confined to close quarters.

Pred428 in anger started to choke Delta,.
But Delta hunched his shoulders and proturded his body to 90 degrees and kicked Pred428 in the mask with his one good leg.
He fell and Delta hit the cold hardpan.
Covered his head with his one full arm and a muffled expolsion went off.

Predator428 turned in an instant, diving horizonatly to put as much distance as he could between him and Delta's grenades. The predator wrapped his arms protectively over his head, tucking his legs infront of his chest in a protective manner. The explosives blew a second later, sending a wave of fire and metal shards flying in all directions.

Two things saved Predator428 from a gruesome death, one was his remaining armor. The thick gear and plating on the hunter's back provided a strong shield against most of the shrapnel, stopping the metal shards from making a fatal entrance into his spine. The second thing that saved his was his own anatomy. Yautja had a natural resistance to fire, a trait their species had picked up when they had been mere animals. A trait that was still dominant today. The flames that managed to hit his unprotected skin did little damage, merely raising a series of blisters and dark green patchs across his hide.

When the ringing of the explosion stopped shaking his head, Predaor428 climbed to his feet. The hunter turned to face his enemy, keeping most of his weight off his mangled leg. Delta had tucked himself into the fetal position, limbs wrapped protectivly across his head and chest. It hadn't been enough, the soldier had been to close to his explosives when they went off. The clothing on his back was almost completey burned off, revealing a series of sharpnel entraces and seared flesh across the soldier's back. The human's back was covered in second and third degree burns, some of his vertebrae could even be seen sticking out of the blackened flesh.

Predator428 limped to the soldier, picking him up by the nape of his neck with the hunter's working hand. Delta was still alive, struggling to breath from the extent of his injuries. The human raised his head, weary gaze peering into the sightless goggles of Predator428's mask. The warrior raised his wristblades, a low growl eminating from his mask. With a mightly blow, Predator428 drove his wristblades into the human's eye sockets.

The blades passed through his eye's quickly, making an almost instance penetration into the brain cavity. Delta's body spasmed a bit untill all movement finaly ceased. Predator428 ripped his blades free, scraps of brain matter still clinging to the metal. The hunter lowered the heavy corpse to its knees, keeping one arm on the shoulder and the other gripping a chunk of hair. With a fierce tug, Predator428 ripped the head away from the shoulders, easily tearing through the thin skin and muscles in the neck.

Predator428 raised his new prize above his head, letting a few drops of blood from the neck stump fall into his mask. The hunter roared in victory, shaking his new trophy in the air. As far as he predator was concerend, at that moment, he was Cetanu himself.

Predator428 slowly lowered his pirze, tying a chunk of the head's hair to his belt to making sure it would not come loose. The sounds of struggles brought the hunter's attention back to the imprisoned female, still trying to escape from the net wrapped around her. Predator428 walked to the human, dragging his injured leg like a piece of dead wood. When he hunter reached his new prey, he raised his wristblades far above his head. With a quick slash, the female was cut free of the net that had binded her. As the soldier fell to the deck, Predator428 took a few steps back. He spread his arm's wide, bellowing a roar of challenge that echoed through the hallways.