Poignant Pontifications of a Predator…(part 1)

by Amigo_Uno

of DB & Friends

TIS A GOOD NIGHT FOR A HUNT.  I LAMENT OVER MY PURPOSE AS I PREPARE MY TOOLS FOR THE EVENING’S ADVENTURES. 

Tis a good night for a hunt.  I lament over my purpose as I prepare my tools for the evening’s adventures.  I’ve been here for quite a while on this planet.  Tragically, the pursuit of living trophies has become monotonous and routine.  I long for the end of the mundane and the newly found thrill of discovery.  A hunter who has lost the drive to hunt is no hunter at all.  For what is a predator if not the reflection of the prey he pursues?  If that which you seek to conquer no longer excites you, then what, I ask, is the purpose of conquering?  I resign to my actions because it is what the elders expect of me.  It has been implanted in my being to expect it of myself as well.  I know not the reason for my creation.  Until now, the only thoughts I entertained derived from the hunt. 

Ah yes, the hunt.  I remember being young and naïve on my home world.  The viciousness of the kill, the pursuit of the trophy and the respect of those who came before me gave me life.  I had only watched as a young Yautja while the old ones sharpened their blades and made ready their plasma cannons for their missions.  Their mandibles spread far and majestic as they lifted their heads to let out the hunter’s roar.  The blood moon provided a perfect light for our kind to test our might, yet again, against the horrors and beasts inhabiting the forests of our planet.  I watched will focused eyes as they prepared, stalked and killed.  I sat with attentive receptors as they spoke of our methods and tactics.  Then finally, after an eternity, my time to hunt arrived.  I had become.  My combat had commenced.  I dove mandible first into the unknown darkness of the pursuit.  The thrill of the hunt filled my cells with passion and my muscles with power.  Eventually, none among our ranks could call themselves my equal.  All who opposed and challenged were swiftly laid to waste.  I was who I was meant to be…or so I thought.

In the tenth season of my final expedition to planet Kabelo in the Cinderfire system, I was called on by the elders to come here.  I had only heard tale of Earth a few times during my training.  It was seldom mentioned because of the inherent weakness of its ruling inhabitants.  The Earth had provided a few of my kind with worthy challenges at certain points during its short history.  When the Carnirasts, or dinosaurs as the humans called them, roamed free and wild, my kind refined our hunting and tracking methods by conquering the beasts.  But alas, a meteor proved to be their undoing.  My kind lamented over the loss of such worthy and colossal prey, only to grow disheartened as a far more nefarious, cunning and surreptitious creature sprang forth from the chaos…Man.  Man, although weak, cowardly and short-lived, managed to spread over the entirety of the planet after only a few short millennia.  Some of my kind would return periodically when exceptional humans emerged to provide worthy prey.  Some even met their ends at the hands of a few of these exceptionally determined and resourceful humans. But despite these bright spots of deserving hunts, we eventually found the humans lackluster and unfulfilling.  They seemed only concerned with strengthening a few by weakening many.  My kind hunts for a purpose. We hunt to refine.  We respect the worthiness of the pursuit.  A noble enemy is something to be revered, studied and appreciated; not extinguished.  It seemed they would never learn, and so we stayed away from their world for a time. 

Ironically, the humans and their pursuits for dominance eventully resulted in a renewed interest in their world.  In an effort to makes themselves stronger than each other, the humans began to discover new and creative ways of modification.  From integration with machinery, artificial intelligence and even the incorporation of technology captured from my kind, the humans became stronger.  Gone were the days of weakness where a good hunt remained a rarity.  They had evolved in the eyes of my elders; and evolution always provides a method for improvement.  So, they sent me, the strongest and most worthy, here to gather intel through experience.  They made it seem as if the prey here and now had evolved to such a degree as to make my very survival an uncertainty.  My mandibles tingled with anticipation as I prepared for my excursion.  The flight would be long as our planets were separated by millions of light years, but I would be ready.  I was ready. 

I was tasked with retrieving 150 Krisenths, or skulls, from humans categorized as level AM10 or higher.  An AM (artificially modified) human of level 10 was statistically shown to pose at minimum a 60% chance of fatality upon conflict.  For higher level AMs, the chances of our demise were far greater.  I remember how it felt preparing my gear for the expedition.  I was to remain here as long as it took to accomplish the task I had been given.  It was one of the highest honors on my planet.  To be chosen by the elders as a solo expedition interplanetary hunter was to be chosen by the gods for a seat on Mt. Olympus.  The humans’ lore and history always intrigued me even though until now, their physical abilities left much to be desired.  Most of their gods and immortals were a reflection of their own fears of death and lusts for power.  I loaded 250 human years’ worth of supplies and gear, and boarded my ship.  An eager hunter in search of the only thing that can provide him with meaning: a worthy adversary.  I thought this would be the ultimate test of my skill and ability, but as I would discover upon arrival, expectations are often far superior to reality….(to be continued)

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