The Hunters become the Hunted

[Cptn Corizon 0]

“There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter.”

-Ernest Hemingway

The jungle had gone still, the once buzzing biosphere now deathly quiet. It made them both slightly uneasy. From their hidden vantage, they surveyed the scattered campsite. Trees in the area were broken and battered, the foliage trampled. Several of the tents were ripped and torn, now housing only traces of their former occupants. Patches of rain-saturated earth were now pits of mud. Dozens of footprints littered the camp. It looked as though many of the crew had struggled against their captors.

 

Corizon sniffed the night air as the wind shifted in their direction and glanced to his companion. "Smell that?"

 

"Blood," Victria said decisively. "Human blood… and something else." After a moment of listening to the silence, she glanced at him. "The attackers are not in the area."

 

Corizon nodded and stood, trusting her senses as much as he trusted his own. He placed his sword back in the scabbard at his side as he moved into the camp. Unzipping his fatigue jacket, he tossed it into the remains of one of the tents and grabbed one of the lighter packs. "They must have clubbed the rock with a bigger rock," he pointed out, pausing at one of the crushed tents. "Dragging something that large through the jungle is not going to be easy."

 

"Take a look at these prints," she said, bending to examine the mud. "Clawed."

 

"They look like some sort of reptile prints, though walking upright on two legs. They shouldn't be too hard to track." He settled the pack on his back and paused, sniffing the air. "It smells like it might rain soon."

 

"Then we need to hurry before all traces are gone," she said grimly. She swept everything off one of the unopened crates and thumbed open the lock, cracking the lid and pulling out her own Al-Ucardian blade and scabbard - not at all Federation issue, but they had made allowances. She slipped into the harness and settled it across her chest, leaving the sword within easy reach over her left shoulder. "They did not pillage the camp," she observed after another careful look around.

 

"They were more interested in our people," he frowned. "Let's get moving. They can't be that far ahead of us." He motioned for her to take the lead, thinking how fortunate for the others that two of the better trained stalkers on the ship were now hunting the hunters. "I should have known better than to think we could just come down here."

 

"It never works that way."

 

Following the trail of destruction, they paused at a large trampled section a few meters beyond the camp. A large swath of blood stained the foliage, still wet and glistening. Nearby, a smaller area was splattered with something non-human.

 

"They must have stabbed him in the stomach," Corizon said, "but I wonder why there was no blood from the others."

 

"Sedated, probably. I found tipped darts in the tree where they tried to shoot me. There were also traces of urine in the camp, consistent with loss of consciousness." Victria ignored the human blood. She knew instinctively that it belonged to Mark. She'd felt the attack and the pain of his wound. The alien blood was of extreme interest to her, however. She removed one of the tainted leaves, tasted the substance, and then handed it to Corizon to smell.

 

"Not changelings," she stated.

 

"No," he agreed. "But the smell is… somehow… familiar."

 

"Familiar, yes, but none that I have ever Hunted."

 

They continued onward through the oppressive gloom, relying on their enhanced vision rather than insufficient hand-lamps. Much of the time, the canopy of trees overhead remained so interwoven that very little moonlight filtered through. Droplets of water from the previous rainfall dripped incessantly from the broad leaves of the upper story. Despite the level of darkness, the trail was painfully easy for them to follow, though both remained wary of possible traps. The silence eventually died away as nocturnal creatures resumed their nightly habits and the insects began to chirp once more. A low, rumbling roar soon reached their ears and continued to grow in volume. When they at last they broke free of the trees, they found themselves on the bank of an angry, swollen river.

 

"Lovely," Corizon said, looking up in search for a way over.

 

"I doubt they could navigate rafts over this. There must be a bridge somewhere." She began to search the area, going upriver while he went down.

 

"No bridge," he said with a grin after a few minutes of searching. Motioning her over towards a collection of boulders on the embankment, he cleared away several rocks and muck to reveal the opening to cave. "Clever lizards. Why go over when you can go under?"

 

Victria frowned and bent to peer through entrance. "I dislike tunnels. The last one we ventured into was inhabited by giant spiders that killed several of your marines." Nevertheless, she slipped inside, pausing as her vision adjusted to the darker darkness.

 

Corizon's own yellow disks took a moment to adjust to the darkness before he could lead them through, using the scent of fresh blood as his guide. The cave was damp and dingy. As they turned a curve and headed lower still, he could hear the water above them rush by. They had to have been only a meter or so from the river bed. "I am mildly concerned we were so easily taken by surprise."

 

"You know as well as I that there are some situations for which the Federation does not prepare you. You were on watch and did not even see these attackers."

 

"That's my problem," he said with a sigh. "Am I losing my edge?"

 

"Perhaps," she glanced at him briefly as they moved further into the tunnel. "It is my greatest fear."

 

"I will be glad when this mission is over."

 

"I am rather enjoying myself," she said wryly. She touched her hand to the wall as they passed and frowned as it came away muddy. "Though, we need to leave this place as quickly as possible."

 

He nodded and picked up the pace. "The opening shouldn't be much further."

 

She relaxed slightly as they emerged from the tunnel, having half expected it to be collapsed atop them or for the rushing river to have broken through. The trail of blood continued, though she was relieved to see it had lessened. As she scanned the dense underbrush, she caught the sound of soft guttural noises over the falling rain.

 

"Listen," she hissed quietly, slowly unsheathing her sword.

 

Corizon froze and hunched slightly, ears popping up and swiveling in either direction. The two of them flung themselves out of the way as darts whistled through the brush, whizzing through the space they had just occupied. Almost as if they had practiced the maneuver, they each rolled, sprang to their feet, and launched themselves toward their unseen attackers. Several throwing daggers preceded them.

 

The humanoid-lizards barely had time to react before the cold, deadly steel of dual swords sliced through their bodies and hacked the life away. While Corizon dispatched his foes, Victria quickly decapitated two of her own in one fluid motion. The third she took alive. Straddling the barrel chest of the lizard-man and pinning his arms to the ground with her knees, she held her blade steadily against the pulse of his throat.

 

The lizard lashed at them both with its tail and hissed wildly. "Infidelssssss!"

 

"Do you think it can tell us anything?" she asked as Corizon approached.

 

Wiping blood off his blade, Corizon circled around and bent down, grabbing and twisting at a fin on the thing's head. "You well tell us where you took our people."

The lizard-like creature cackled and hissed. "You will never see your... people... again. They have been taken to hognaln'ik-kolbannnneee... where infidelsssssss belong... hehehehehehehe"

 

With fire in his cold, yellow eyes, Corizon released the lizard and straightened, looking at Victria. "Kill it."

 

She didn't hesitate. Her blade sliced cleanly across the lizard's throat and she stared unfeelingly as it gurgled its last breath. Rising, she stepped over the twitching body. "That did not sound promising..."

 

"No," he frowned deeply. "It di..." He trailed off as he spotted a small vial hanging from the lizard's body. He grabbed it, snapping the chain that held it. The small glass vial contained a white, syrupy substance. Without thought, Corizon uncorked the bottle and smelled it. "Dear gods..."

 

Victria looked at him questioningly, her nose wrinkling as the smell reached her. "Drug?"

 

"You've heard of Ketracel-white?"

 

"The substance the changelings use to bring their soldiers at bay. You believe this to be one of their constructs?" She peered down at the lifeless lizard and growled out of habit.

 

He shook his head, unsure. "I do not know, but his... whatever it is smells almost identical. And the enzyme in Ketracel-white is fairly rare." Frowning he recorked the vial and placed it in a pants pocket for later analysis. "I have feeling that this... hog-whatever, maybe exactly what we came looking for."

 

"Hognaln'ik-kolbannnneee… where infidels belong," she repeated. "Yes, that sounds like the place for us." She grinned wildly as she brushed past him to pick up the trail once more.