Four cycles of a season later

  N-Vorl stands before an enormous mirror in his quarters, staring at his reflection with an odd expression. Rapid knocking jars N-Vorl from his musing and he whirls away from the mirror. Striding confidently across the room, N-Vorl presses a button on the wall. The doors slide open to reveal Yuljunu. It is obvious the usually hardcore female warrior has been crying.

  "N-Vorl--," Yuljunu exclaims breathlessly.

  The female hunter barges past N-Vorl and moves toward the center of the room. She rakes a hand through her beaded dreadlocks, shaking her head in disbelief. N-Vorl allows the doors to close before going to Yuljunu's side. He watches her with emotionless eyes.

  "Curzu! He has gone rogue!" Yuljunu mutters angrily. "During Curzu's last mission...His team was put in charge of clearing a hunt planet of ooman intruders. Several ooman females were taken among the prisoners. There was an...Episode. Curzu refused his blood serum. The next morning...Curzu and all of the female prisoners were gone. As well as a transport vessel."

  N-Vorl's brow creases but he continues to say nothing, adjusting his chest armor with one hand. Yuljunu pivots to peer at him, anger flashing in her eyes.

  "Why would Curzu do this?" Why would he do this to me? He gave me his word. And all... Because of a few ooman females? Does he think he can save them? Does no other part of the code matter anymore?"

  "Perhaps, it was the death of Luusen?" N-Vorl interjects dispassionately. "He has not been the same since Luusen was killed during the siege of Yultimavo."

  Yuljunu finally notices that N-Vorl is adorned in his full battle armor--mask in one hand. She looks him over from head to toe with a bewildered expression.

  "Why are you dressed in that way? Where are you going?"

  N-Vorl's chest swells with pride and he offers Yuljunu a snide grin. He will soon find his purpose elsewhere. He had once sought solace in her arms. Now, he will find it amongst the stars. On distant planets, on far away battlefields, and in the collection of trophies. Many trophies. Some of which, he hopes will be ooman trophies.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Now, he can be more than a cultivator. He can be a true yautja--a fearsome hunter. The abrupt defection of Curzu, and Kiryzif, has made this dream possible.

  "It appears...My uncle has need of me."

  -

  -

  Sometime before

  N-Vorl enters Elder Glandis' meeting chamber to find his uncle and Mau-Nis standing near the room's center. Mau-Nis' face is blank--as usual. However, Glandis' countenance is one of pure rage.

  The elder's mouth is clenched and his tusks quiver with unspoken fury. He takes a step toward N-Vorl, the younger stopping his forward motion to stare at the older.

  "Curzu and Kiryzif's defections could not have come at a worst time," Elder Glandis roars. "The council has tasked our clan with cultivating one of the planets very close to ooman space. Along with a group of our best scientists...We will travel to this new world. Once there, we are to create beasts worthy of a hunt. I have sent some of my best hunters--to track and apprehend the traitors. Which means, I am very short on warriors. It appears...I have need of you, N-Vorl. You will accompany us to the new hunt planet."

  N-Vorl's heart races in his chest. He glances from the furious Elder Glandis, to the stoic Mau-Nis. Suppressing his overwhelming joy, N-Vorl nods respectfully.

  "Yes, Elder."

  -

  -

  Teresa opens her eyes to a world of splitting pain. Her head feels as if it has been slammed against a wall and her midsection screams from untold injuries. As Dr. Boyd’s eyes adjust to the darkness, she realizes—with paralyzing fear—that she is back in the California’s transport hangar. But how?

  “Oh no,” Teresa cries and attempts to sit up.

  She is halted by a large foot slamming into her abdomen just under her ribcage. Teresa’s breath escapes in a loud ‘oof’ and she falls back hard onto the metal floor. The back of Teresa’s head hits the floor and lights dance before her eyes.

  “Oh god!” she utters and tries to reach up to grab her aching head.

  Another appendage pins her arm before she can move it and Dr. Boyd yelps in distress. Her distress only increases ten-fold when the bodies attached to the offending appendages finally materialize.

  N-Vorl stares down at the ooman female with a mixture of hatred and confusion. This ooman does not resemble the few he has encountered during the battle group's brief travels--or while studying as a childling. Her skin is of a darker hue, made evident by adjusting the settings on his mask. Seeing as a ooman might see, N-Vorl battles with the emotions in his soul.

  He keeps his large foot pressed against the ooman female's abdomen, studying her very closely.