JPVP

Prologue

The Ancients have spoke of them. But even they have not hunted them. Nor the Ancients before them, nor the Ancients before them. They were hunted before we learned to harness the power of plasma into our weapons. When cloaking devices were just an idea. The trophies still exist, though. Skulls filled with teeth. Talons, still razor sharp after uncountable eons. And the stories. The stories more than anything. The first worthy prey, before the encounters with the Xenomorphs. They would've been a perfect match for us, save their one advantage: The Pack. Our people's pride never allowed for such methods. For how could one trophy, one skull, one spine, be split amongst many? So our hunt turned into a battle. The battle, into a war. The war into the slaughter of our race. Our spears were sharp, our discs flew true, our instincts served us well. But they were too many, and their cunning too great. We fought until only one of our kind remained. The honorable path for him to take would've been to end his own life, and take as many of these creatures with him. But he felt there was something to be learned, and shared with his clan. When he returned, he convinced the Ancients (yes, there were even ancients then...) that these creatures, though less intelligent, had an advantage in numbers, and communication amongst those numbers served them well. And they listened. He became known as The Last Lone One, and he is still honored to this day. Our clan began to hunt in groups. Hunting parties would train together, learn strategy. And even in teams of three, there were plenty of trophies to go around. Over the great expanse of time since then, much has changed. Our weapons have been improved. Our armor strengthened. Our star ships streamlined and faster. But always, the ghost of The Pack has haunted us. For before we could return, some other Great Hunter wiped them out completely. As time passed, their land was populated by new prey. We would return throughout the ages, and though we found worthy adversaries, none were as great as The Pack. And now, the rumors. Whispers across space. They have returned. Has the latest, Greatest Race uncovered their ancient bodies, resurrecting them for their own purposes? If this is so, they have no idea what they have unleashed upon themselves. Fortunate for them, then, my brothers and I have been chosen to be the first of our kind to hunt The Pack again.

[Translated from the native tongue of the Predator]