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Half-Life 2: Civil Protection Propaganda
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Honor In Death: Part 0.
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The halls of the scout ship echoed with the thudding steps of three Yautja as they prepared for flight, the quiet humming of the ship's engines almost inaudible over the sounds of the hunters preparing for yet another "safari". Each Yautja was well-built, yet obviously young and relatively inexperienced.
One of them, who went by the name of Kiande Thwei, had isolated himself from the rest. His gaze drifted across his small quarters, dark and monolithic. He preferred it like this. Alone. Though he wasn't opposed to the company of his two clanmates, and even enjoyed it at times. He'd never admit this, of course. It simply wasn't in his nature. Indeed, Kiande was a very solitary hunter. He didn't really care much for making friends or allies among his fellows, which of course was of no REAL concern to them. Except for the crazy one. Sighing, mandibles slowly clicking together, he reached up to a simplistic podium and removed a large metallic object and held it up to his head. His bio-mask let out an audible hiss as it sealed around his face. The eyes of the mask flicked through the various sight modes, and the laser sight adjusted itself to the room's brightness. Kiande picked up his heavy metal armor, nothing more than a sleeveless torso plate, and clasped it around his back. He felt his webbing "flight suit" tighten as the armor's clasps pulled it taut. Pulling on his plated shinguards, he stood and reached for his preferred weapon of choice. It was a large, serrated glaive, with the signature curved blade ending in a jagged bolt-shaped tip on either end. It was more of a scythe, really. Kiande swung it about, testing its balance. Satisfied, he slung the leather strap over his shoulder. Finally, he clasped his plasmacaster to his shoulder and clicked his gauntlets securely around his wrists. The blades glinted, barely visible in their housings. He was prepared to hunt. Turning, he opened the door to the dark room and stepped out.
Meanwhile, in another part of the ship, a Yautja known only by his nickname "Kha'bj-te" ("Maniac") was undergoing a similar ritual. Mandibles clicking in excitement, he lifted up his jagged, eccentric-looking bio-mask and turned it in his hands. This was what he had been raised for, and what he had come to love! And it was finally happening! A coarse laugh escaped his mouth as he attached the metal mask to his face. The dual targeting lasers beeped as they turned on, automatically adjusting to the brightness of the small room. "Maniac" basked in the glow of the visor, almost giddy as the different vision modes flicked on and off. Looking around, he laughed again. He turned and lifted his personalized armor. It was more of a mantle, with a long, segmented piece covering his spine. Unlike his fellow hunters, "Maniac" didn't bother with the underlying webbing that many others wore. It felt weird on his skin, and he preferred the freedom of not wearing it anyways. He knew that most of his clanmates looked down upon him, thinking he was an ineffective hunter. That he wasn't fit to hunt. That he was crazy. Maybe they were right about that last part, but he aimed to put their doubts to rest. He picked up his two personal favorite weapons. The first was a variation of the standard wrist blades, though instead of two jagged blades, each gauntlet held a very long machete. His other preferred "tool" was actually twofold: twin plasmacasters. Greatly enjoying the sharp clicking and ratcheting noises they made as they attached to his mantle's caster holders, he spun and quickly left his lit quarters, ecstatic at what was soon to come.
Finally, the third member of this small hunting party stood on the "bridge" of the cramped ship, having already prepared himself. His face was obscured by a distinct bio-mask, featuring a more elongated, almost helmeted look to it. His armor, a more traditional plate covering half his chest and shoulder, was mostly bare. A simplistic, utilitarian plasmacaster rested on his back. His ceremonial knife, his weapon of choice, rested in a hidden sheath. His gauntlets were of a clean, unscratched bronze metal. His webbing pulled taut over his muscles, he idly secured his one-piece shinguards and boots. His hunting pouch, relatively freshly-made, dangled from his belt, which was adorned with various other pieces of equipment and weaponry. This was Thei-de Yin'tekai, and this name was inscribed along the top edge of his bio-mask. A small luxury, but one he enjoyed. His knuckles were adorned with small metal rivets, essentially brass knuckles. A circular blade rested in his hand, which he spun by one of the circular holes on the edge. He was unfocused. Thei-de was, above all, anxious. Impatient. He was having trouble waiting, and paced the bridge, his heavy footsteps reverberating through the alien metal. He knew this was a great responsibility, but his mind kept wandering to visions of glory. Thoughts of a challenging hunt raced through his head, and he grew even more restless. He set the small blade on a ledge and looked out the window. He was greeted by dark tangles of trees and brush. Turning, he picked up his most sentimental item: a skull of one of his kin. The forehead of the calcified object had a large hole in it. He had not died an honorable death. Thei-de had been inspired by this skull. It had shaped him. Some might say he was obsessed with dying. Dying a glorious, noble death in a no-holds-barred duel with a worthy opponent. They were right, of course. But he refused to let it interrupt his first Hunt. He had lived and fought too hard to die so soon.
He turned as his two brethren entered the small room. They didn't speak. There was nothing to say. Deep down, all three of them were simply too excited for the beginning of the Hunt. With a few swift actions, the engines of the ship roared to life and it lifted off the ground. With a loud sound of combustion, the craft rocketed away into the dark skies. Each one was lost in thought, yet a strong sense of brotherhood permeated the compartment. They'd been very close since a very young age, the three of them. As with many of their kind, they had been raised to hunt. This was what their lives were truly about. The drifter was deep in his solitude, mind slowly and methodically working out the path to victory. The fool was consumed by the glee and excitement of the Hunt, the freedom of the planet's surface, and the fun he planned to have. The martyr could do nothing but struggle to keep awake as the ship shot through space. Soon, his eyes closed, and he did not open them for a very long time...until a rough shaking from "Maniac" brought him back to reality. The scout ship had arrived at its destination. The temple was somewhere on this barren planet, but the Yautja were wary. From their position in the skies, they noticed strange structures near their destination. Alien structures. Someone had infringed upon their hunting grounds. Thei-de brought the ship down to an area deep in jungle, a decent distance away from the compound. As each one stepped off the ramp, their previous reprieve had been shattered. On edge at the prospect of this unwelcome incursion, they crunched through the dense forest. A loud hissing reverberated through the trees, but to the Yautja it was miles off. Ever alert, the hunters soon activated their cloaks and broke into sprints. They would have to infiltrate these invaders quickly, before they could do any more damage. Suddenly, "Maniac" let out a grunt as something slammed into him. He began to panic as the small, shiny black creature, faster than his frantic swipes, clawed at his open skin. Finally, a roar escaped his bio-mask as he turned his twin plasmacasters on the creature. With a loud crackling noise and a blinding flash, the creature was reduced to a crisp. However, more dark claws sprung from the trees and dragged him away. The other two Yautja, however, were otherwise occupied. A larger black creature, larger than any living hing they had seen, came crashing through the brush. A massive crest adorned its head as it shot towards them, a guttural screech leaving its jaws.
A decision had to be made. Leave "Maniac" to die, plasmacasters firing and blades swinging, or try and save him from an honorable battle and risk death in the process? Kiande was the one to decide. With a quiet apology, the two hunters turned and fled the colossal beast as it plowed through the thick branches and trunks. Coming to a large gap, they didn't even hesitate before leaping over it, hoping the creature was too heavy to pursue. As it happens, they were correct. When it attempted to cross the schism, the ground gave out beneath it and it fell to the depths below, roaring madly. Kiande and Thei-de didn't look back. They reached an outcropping along the thick dirt and stone, overlooking a river near the metal complex. There, they set up a small, makeshift camp for the night. Kiande vanished some time later, while Thei-de slumbered. Though initially assuming he had died, it was later discovered that Kiande had struck out on his own, reasons unknown. The death of his comrade had struck harder than he had let on, apparently. Awakening, Thei-de (not knowing that Kiande still lived) became furious. Not only had he lost his two closest kin to these beasts, but another race had invaded the Hunt! This would not stand, he decided. Returning to the chasm, he leaped over to the rock wall and scaled it, ignoring the pain in his hands as they cracked the stone. Clambering on to the edge, fingers bruised and bleeding, he walked along the brink until he neared the location of his ship. No sooner had he begun to sprint for the ramp, when the trees seemed to come alive. Dark, spindly arms whipped out and tried to slow him. Several of the creatures rammed into him, only to be flung off with little consideration. Closing the ramp as soon as he set foot on it, he immediately sent the ship into orbit. Only then did he realize what he had done. He'd abandoned both of his kin below, to the very prey they came to hunt, and had not even tried to put up an honorable fight to defend them. He could not even put up an honorable fight to save himself. Worst of all, he had the chance to die the glorious death he dreamed of, but he had not taken it.
He had shamed himself.
He would not let it be that way. Thei-de would not let the Hunt end so easily. His rage and anger soon dispersed, replaced with determination and ambition. The Hunt would only end when he had killed the strongest each of these invaders had to offer. On his terms. He set the ship to remain still in the dark skies of the planet, stepping out of the bridge and into the quarters of his fellows. He looked to their trophies for inspiration, and as he began to gather his equipment, his weaponry, his thoughts were shattered. A larger ship had arrived. At first glance, it was of the same material as the foreign structures. So be it. If more prey lay upon that ship, it was simply a larger pool to choose from. And if the serpents that he had cowered from thought he would give up in his quest to hunt them, they were sorely mistaken. He began the ship's descent to the planet below, and then stepped out into the center of the ship's main room.
"Let the hunt begin."
One of them, who went by the name of Kiande Thwei, had isolated himself from the rest. His gaze drifted across his small quarters, dark and monolithic. He preferred it like this. Alone. Though he wasn't opposed to the company of his two clanmates, and even enjoyed it at times. He'd never admit this, of course. It simply wasn't in his nature. Indeed, Kiande was a very solitary hunter. He didn't really care much for making friends or allies among his fellows, which of course was of no REAL concern to them. Except for the crazy one. Sighing, mandibles slowly clicking together, he reached up to a simplistic podium and removed a large metallic object and held it up to his head. His bio-mask let out an audible hiss as it sealed around his face. The eyes of the mask flicked through the various sight modes, and the laser sight adjusted itself to the room's brightness. Kiande picked up his heavy metal armor, nothing more than a sleeveless torso plate, and clasped it around his back. He felt his webbing "flight suit" tighten as the armor's clasps pulled it taut. Pulling on his plated shinguards, he stood and reached for his preferred weapon of choice. It was a large, serrated glaive, with the signature curved blade ending in a jagged bolt-shaped tip on either end. It was more of a scythe, really. Kiande swung it about, testing its balance. Satisfied, he slung the leather strap over his shoulder. Finally, he clasped his plasmacaster to his shoulder and clicked his gauntlets securely around his wrists. The blades glinted, barely visible in their housings. He was prepared to hunt. Turning, he opened the door to the dark room and stepped out.
Meanwhile, in another part of the ship, a Yautja known only by his nickname "Kha'bj-te" ("Maniac") was undergoing a similar ritual. Mandibles clicking in excitement, he lifted up his jagged, eccentric-looking bio-mask and turned it in his hands. This was what he had been raised for, and what he had come to love! And it was finally happening! A coarse laugh escaped his mouth as he attached the metal mask to his face. The dual targeting lasers beeped as they turned on, automatically adjusting to the brightness of the small room. "Maniac" basked in the glow of the visor, almost giddy as the different vision modes flicked on and off. Looking around, he laughed again. He turned and lifted his personalized armor. It was more of a mantle, with a long, segmented piece covering his spine. Unlike his fellow hunters, "Maniac" didn't bother with the underlying webbing that many others wore. It felt weird on his skin, and he preferred the freedom of not wearing it anyways. He knew that most of his clanmates looked down upon him, thinking he was an ineffective hunter. That he wasn't fit to hunt. That he was crazy. Maybe they were right about that last part, but he aimed to put their doubts to rest. He picked up his two personal favorite weapons. The first was a variation of the standard wrist blades, though instead of two jagged blades, each gauntlet held a very long machete. His other preferred "tool" was actually twofold: twin plasmacasters. Greatly enjoying the sharp clicking and ratcheting noises they made as they attached to his mantle's caster holders, he spun and quickly left his lit quarters, ecstatic at what was soon to come.
Finally, the third member of this small hunting party stood on the "bridge" of the cramped ship, having already prepared himself. His face was obscured by a distinct bio-mask, featuring a more elongated, almost helmeted look to it. His armor, a more traditional plate covering half his chest and shoulder, was mostly bare. A simplistic, utilitarian plasmacaster rested on his back. His ceremonial knife, his weapon of choice, rested in a hidden sheath. His gauntlets were of a clean, unscratched bronze metal. His webbing pulled taut over his muscles, he idly secured his one-piece shinguards and boots. His hunting pouch, relatively freshly-made, dangled from his belt, which was adorned with various other pieces of equipment and weaponry. This was Thei-de Yin'tekai, and this name was inscribed along the top edge of his bio-mask. A small luxury, but one he enjoyed. His knuckles were adorned with small metal rivets, essentially brass knuckles. A circular blade rested in his hand, which he spun by one of the circular holes on the edge. He was unfocused. Thei-de was, above all, anxious. Impatient. He was having trouble waiting, and paced the bridge, his heavy footsteps reverberating through the alien metal. He knew this was a great responsibility, but his mind kept wandering to visions of glory. Thoughts of a challenging hunt raced through his head, and he grew even more restless. He set the small blade on a ledge and looked out the window. He was greeted by dark tangles of trees and brush. Turning, he picked up his most sentimental item: a skull of one of his kin. The forehead of the calcified object had a large hole in it. He had not died an honorable death. Thei-de had been inspired by this skull. It had shaped him. Some might say he was obsessed with dying. Dying a glorious, noble death in a no-holds-barred duel with a worthy opponent. They were right, of course. But he refused to let it interrupt his first Hunt. He had lived and fought too hard to die so soon.
He turned as his two brethren entered the small room. They didn't speak. There was nothing to say. Deep down, all three of them were simply too excited for the beginning of the Hunt. With a few swift actions, the engines of the ship roared to life and it lifted off the ground. With a loud sound of combustion, the craft rocketed away into the dark skies. Each one was lost in thought, yet a strong sense of brotherhood permeated the compartment. They'd been very close since a very young age, the three of them. As with many of their kind, they had been raised to hunt. This was what their lives were truly about. The drifter was deep in his solitude, mind slowly and methodically working out the path to victory. The fool was consumed by the glee and excitement of the Hunt, the freedom of the planet's surface, and the fun he planned to have. The martyr could do nothing but struggle to keep awake as the ship shot through space. Soon, his eyes closed, and he did not open them for a very long time...until a rough shaking from "Maniac" brought him back to reality. The scout ship had arrived at its destination. The temple was somewhere on this barren planet, but the Yautja were wary. From their position in the skies, they noticed strange structures near their destination. Alien structures. Someone had infringed upon their hunting grounds. Thei-de brought the ship down to an area deep in jungle, a decent distance away from the compound. As each one stepped off the ramp, their previous reprieve had been shattered. On edge at the prospect of this unwelcome incursion, they crunched through the dense forest. A loud hissing reverberated through the trees, but to the Yautja it was miles off. Ever alert, the hunters soon activated their cloaks and broke into sprints. They would have to infiltrate these invaders quickly, before they could do any more damage. Suddenly, "Maniac" let out a grunt as something slammed into him. He began to panic as the small, shiny black creature, faster than his frantic swipes, clawed at his open skin. Finally, a roar escaped his bio-mask as he turned his twin plasmacasters on the creature. With a loud crackling noise and a blinding flash, the creature was reduced to a crisp. However, more dark claws sprung from the trees and dragged him away. The other two Yautja, however, were otherwise occupied. A larger black creature, larger than any living hing they had seen, came crashing through the brush. A massive crest adorned its head as it shot towards them, a guttural screech leaving its jaws.
A decision had to be made. Leave "Maniac" to die, plasmacasters firing and blades swinging, or try and save him from an honorable battle and risk death in the process? Kiande was the one to decide. With a quiet apology, the two hunters turned and fled the colossal beast as it plowed through the thick branches and trunks. Coming to a large gap, they didn't even hesitate before leaping over it, hoping the creature was too heavy to pursue. As it happens, they were correct. When it attempted to cross the schism, the ground gave out beneath it and it fell to the depths below, roaring madly. Kiande and Thei-de didn't look back. They reached an outcropping along the thick dirt and stone, overlooking a river near the metal complex. There, they set up a small, makeshift camp for the night. Kiande vanished some time later, while Thei-de slumbered. Though initially assuming he had died, it was later discovered that Kiande had struck out on his own, reasons unknown. The death of his comrade had struck harder than he had let on, apparently. Awakening, Thei-de (not knowing that Kiande still lived) became furious. Not only had he lost his two closest kin to these beasts, but another race had invaded the Hunt! This would not stand, he decided. Returning to the chasm, he leaped over to the rock wall and scaled it, ignoring the pain in his hands as they cracked the stone. Clambering on to the edge, fingers bruised and bleeding, he walked along the brink until he neared the location of his ship. No sooner had he begun to sprint for the ramp, when the trees seemed to come alive. Dark, spindly arms whipped out and tried to slow him. Several of the creatures rammed into him, only to be flung off with little consideration. Closing the ramp as soon as he set foot on it, he immediately sent the ship into orbit. Only then did he realize what he had done. He'd abandoned both of his kin below, to the very prey they came to hunt, and had not even tried to put up an honorable fight to defend them. He could not even put up an honorable fight to save himself. Worst of all, he had the chance to die the glorious death he dreamed of, but he had not taken it.
He had shamed himself.
He would not let it be that way. Thei-de would not let the Hunt end so easily. His rage and anger soon dispersed, replaced with determination and ambition. The Hunt would only end when he had killed the strongest each of these invaders had to offer. On his terms. He set the ship to remain still in the dark skies of the planet, stepping out of the bridge and into the quarters of his fellows. He looked to their trophies for inspiration, and as he began to gather his equipment, his weaponry, his thoughts were shattered. A larger ship had arrived. At first glance, it was of the same material as the foreign structures. So be it. If more prey lay upon that ship, it was simply a larger pool to choose from. And if the serpents that he had cowered from thought he would give up in his quest to hunt them, they were sorely mistaken. He began the ship's descent to the planet below, and then stepped out into the center of the ship's main room.
"Let the hunt begin."
If you'd like to request a piece of art, or MAYBE even a small story, feel free to let me know! Watch this thread for further updates, because they'll come pretty frequently! Critique, compliments, and constructive criticisms allowed and encouraged!