• Chronicle I
    On a Distant world very far from our own, there is a race of devilish monsters, what we call Predators. These wondrous creatures pride themselves, with their own unique killing techniques. Like most prestigious hunters, he keeps trophies of his prey but his world embraces a trophy taboo, his culture uses as the key stone to their Ritualistic hunting, they take the head and spinal column of the prey and clean the bone of tissue and flesh, leaving the skull and spinal column as his hunt trophy. This creature acts with animal instinct by suspending the flayed bodies of their prey around their territory, to tell enemies that he is your worst fear.
    On the distant horizon of Tecal , a bon-fire flares and dances to the sultry tune of the breeze. The predator watches with great interest at his prey, the most wanted murderers in the Tecal system, hiding on Tecal lunar IV, however the predator is not looking for bounty, instead he is looking for a challenging hunt his past three hunts have been uneventful at best, mediocre. He scanned their conversation recording bits and pieces to mimic and frighten his prey. As he waited for some data files on Tecal, he thought back to his past hunts on different planets and systems, however he tried to manually decipher the dialect. But he soon gave up, his memory banks found scarce files on Tecal the files matched parts of the prey’s conversation with the stored files and described the language as ancient. Though slightly altered the language was over 2 million years old, and described as “Tecalatian alten bakle” or “ancient Tecal dialect” the files go blank there as if erased. Now the Predator thought to himself, no one could’ve known how to delete those kinds of files, and that’s another Predator, however some species’ have figured out how to hack into their computer system before - so maybe by some slim chance something did hack in and erase some files but how? Of course this conundrum did disturb the beast, as it would any other, however he put that aside and focused deeply on his prey. It had been almost 10 minutes since his last glance at the camp and he saw they were eating some kind of rotisserie meat. He decided to wait until they where done with their meals to strike. He knew that after their meals the fugitives would be far to exhausted to defend themselves let alone raise they’re large particle cannons. Soon enough they were done, and as he predicted they were sluggish and no sooner did they rise from their logs laid around the fire, he leapt into action and drew his combat dagger and slashed one mans throat, the man fell to his knees. The next man was watching the camp, the beast charged at him like angry bull, with his Wrist-Blades drawn, he thrusted upward into the man’s skull and the tips of the blades protruded from his skull, the hunter jerked his wrist and pulled his blades from the bleeding hulk and charged to the last man. However the last man looked old and experienced, and as the predator lunged, the man whipped around and discharged his pistol just barely missing the animal; this only made the Predator more furious. Again lunging from his crouched position and drawing his maul the predator divided his prey at the waist. He went to each and every body ripping the spinal column from the corpses and vacuuming the tissue off the bone and removing the brain matter from it’s cavity. He stored the trophies on the trophy rack in his ship and returned home to tell the elders on his planet of the very first successful hunt on Tecal in predator history.

    Chronicle II
    Back on Hunter Prime , our beastly friend pulls his hunt Cruiser into an open dock at the terminal to the elder chambers. Security officers clad in alloy armor- the alloy armor signifying their security rank. Searches his cruiser to clear him and then searches the hunter’s person. They motion him to pass. As he ambles trough the elegantly decorated halls leading to the elder’s chambers, he stops every now and then to admire the additions to the hall since he’d last been through them. He soon stopped in front of the chamber door as the door rose with a hiss. A bright light blinded him as he raised his right fore arm, shielding the optics in his helmet. He entered with slow erythematic steps right, left, right, left, stop.
    Soon his optics adjusted to the lighting and he lowered his arm, only to raise it again with a fist balled rapping twice hardly on his chest. To salute his superiors. He presented his trophies from the Tecal hunt. In unison all seven elders rose from their thrones to deliberate whether he has earned the title of Bad Blood hunter. A little less than five minutes later the emerged to see their lesser still standing in attention they waited several minutes that felt like an eternity until they awarded him his hand crafted Bad Blood armor with his name “Swift Kill” engraved in the chest plate. He bowed, gave his salute, and proudly marched back to his ship.
    After Swift Kill had undone the safety locks on his ship he left Hunter Prime, he engaged his autopilot and set it for planet Draconis IV.

    Chronicle III
    As the predator entered orbit around Draconis IV, he throttled back and disengaged the thrusters on his hunt cruiser and programmed his navigational system to stay in orbit around Draconis IV.