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Narrow Escape: AVP (A Fanfiction)
S1: Chapter 7: Under The Hunter's Gaze

S1: Chapter 7: Under The Hunter's Gaze

Inside the pyramid, Lex spies a mural which snags her attention. She halts her forward motion long enough to admire the artistry and detail.

In the engraved image, two warriors—possibly an armored man and a beast—are engaged in mortal combat. The armored warrior’s blades are raised high in the air, ready to strike down the beast rearing above him. Lex studies the image for a moment longer.

Something about the proportions seems--off. Glancing at the surrounding images, and accounting for scale, the armored warrior would be quite tall indeed. Possibly pushing eight feet or more. Lex shakes her head emphatically before continuing behind the other team members. Unbeknownst to her, Lex steps on a pressurized plate. The tile shifts when she raises her foot, triggering other—more ominous—mechanisms within the core of the pyramid.

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Climbing atop a large ooman structure, Celtic watches for signs of his hunt brothers. It will not be long before ooman screams pierce the darkness. He will let his brothers have their choice of kills. Only if they run into trouble will he interfere. However, how much trouble could an ooman really be? The oomans are outmatched in skill, weapons, and knowledge. They do not know this place. The three hunters do. They have been preparing for this day most of their life. The oomans will inevitably fall. And they will fall upon the blade of a yautja warrior.

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Chopper lies in wait for the ooman. Like a scared prey beast, the ooman turns in wary circles. The scared ooman is trying desperately to pinpoint the direction of weird noises being carried on the wind. Noises which sound an awful lot like deep growls.

With a sinister grin, Chopper leaps from his hiding place. His arm blade pierces the ooman’s heart, killing him almost instantly. A single yell escapes the dying ooman’s lips. And then, he screams no more.

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Back at the dining hall, three oomans in soft, light-colored armor sit around a table drinking. Upon hearing the scream of their companion, they exchange frightened glances. Scar throws open the door of the hall and strides casually inside. The three dumb oomans stare in disbelief at the door, obviously expecting to see their leader or the ooman which Chopper has killed. Instead, they are greeted by empty space.

With a haughty gait, Scar strolls into the center of the room. The first ooman clambers noisily to his feet and Scar impales him with his wrist blades. The other oomans train their weapons on Scar, hoping desperately for a kill shot. Roughly tossing the impaled ooman aside, Scar drives his wrist blades into the second ooman. Gurgling and red blood erupts from the ooman’s mouth as Scar effortlessly lifts him into the air.

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The third ooman opens fire, spraying small metal pellets everywhere. Most aren’t even close to hitting their target. Angrily, Scar pulls his combistick from his implement belt and opens it to full length. Holding the second impaled ooman with one arm, he throws his combistick at the sole remaining ooman. The ooman flies into the air and slams into the wall. He does not slide to the ground. The dying ooman glances down at his ribcage and grips the combistick pinning him to the wall. With a weak sigh, the ooman’s head droops onto his chest.

“Security force, indeed,” Scar says with a sinister grin.

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Atop the large ooman structure, Celtic studies the ooman called Quinn. This particular ooman is large and strong. He will do fine for a battle to the death. The ooman’s of course.

“Mikkel?” Quinn hollers into the darkness.

He races into the mess hall to a scene of blood and carnage. The burly driller--and mercenary-- barely has time to register the mayhem around him before he hears the metallic sound of Scar’s wrist blades being ejected. In the same part of the room, a body is being hoisted into the air. The body falls heavily to the floor, as whatever was holding it steps away.

Practically throwing himself back out into the storm, Quinn hurries to shut the door to the mess hall. Scar’s fully extended combistick slams through the door, ripping the sleeve of Quinn’s thermal suit and tearing away part of his left bicep. Quinn covers the wound with one trembling hand, cursing as he scrambles to get away.

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Watching the injured Quinn stumble through the darkness, Celtic waits for the right moment to pounce. The ooman has lost a lot of blood. He will be slightly weakened. Even so, Celtic will enjoy taking the life from him.

The ooman falls onto his back and scrambles backward on all fours. Climbing to his feet, the Quinn prey runs right into a hanging body. Frightened, the Quinn prey hollers loudly. Scrambling backwards in the snow, the ooman finds a weapon lying on the ground and aims it blindly. Perfect. Now that the ooman is armed, he is a more worthy foe.

The large ooman spots movement and opens fire. The small pellets ineffectually bounce off of Celtic’s shimmering cloak, sparking where they meet with his mesh suit. Celtic releases a loud roar and leaps from the tall ooman structure. He lands almost directly on the Quinn prey. The ooman lashes out with his puny weapon and strikes Celtic on the cheek. With a growl which is more like a laugh, Celtic knocks the ooman away. The force of the hit sends the ooman sprawling through a small wooden building. Celtic follows him into the splintered mess, clawing at the debris to get at his chosen prey.

The ooman is fast, but not fast enough. Celtic closes to within a foot of his prey. The ooman swings a two-by-four, and makes contact with the big yautja’s broad chest. The warrior strikes out at the Quinn, barely missing him. With a leap, the ooman slides into the hole created by the mothership’s energy blast. Celtic growls with fury as the ooman slips out of his grasp.

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At the bottom of the frozen shaft, Quinn awakens from his trauma-induced temporary shutdown. He opens his eyes but refrains from moving a muscle. The footsteps approaching are too heavy to be human. Those things. Quinn watches as two of the beasts stroll past. A rustling to his back causes the big man to glance in that direction. Scar’s wrist blades slice through the air, severing the ooman’s head from his body before the scream is completely out of his lips.