Kneeling beside a stone statue of an ancient warrior, Scar watches as the oomans pass underneath him. Nine oomans in all, including one unarmed female. The ooman in the far back glances around cautiously. He walks straight into the metallic noose set down in front of him. The noose tightens around the ooman’s neck and he is hauled up and away. The flailing ooman’s weapon falls to the ground, alerting the other oomans of his abrupt abduction.


    The oomans turn every which way, trying to locate their missing comrade. It is too late for the ooman. He is already dead. Scar chooses his next target. His clawed hands clench tightly around his combistick.


    Another, slightly aged, ooman male spots Scar’s subtle movements and raises his weapon. Scar spears him expertly with his combistick and the man goes flying. The remaining oomans, with the exception of the unarmed female and an infirm male, open fire. Metal pellets spray everywhere and the passageway echoes with sound.


    A loud grinding behind Scar causes him to look over one muscular shoulder. The far wall is moving quickly in his direction. With a powerful leap, Scar flings himself into the air, pin-wheeling his sinewy arms for a more aerodynamic flight. He lands heavily on the other side of the stone passageway. Kneeling beside the opening on that side, he watches the oomans until the shifting of the pyramid blocks them from view.


    As luck would have it, the corpse of the ooman Scar struck with his combistick becomes wedged between two large slabs of stone. Before the stones completely cut the ooman in half, Scar retrieves his valuable weapon.


    Unfortunately, the ooman''s head is attached to the half of his body not accessible to the yautja warrior. Scar drops down into a squat and examines the deceased ooman with his mask. He will have to settle for another kind of trophy. Ejecting his wrist blades, Scar saws at the dead ooman''s left foot.


    -


    -


    Celtic stalks the tall dark-colored ooman with unmatched stealth. The other three oomans with him, including the unarmed female, are of no interest to Celtic. The ooman they refer to as Max is of a caliber worthy of the hunt. Fierce eyes which take in everything, a sturdy bone structure free of slouching; and a coarseness which denotes a fearsome leader. He will be the first ooman to sacrifice his head for the mesh on Celtic’s back.


    Stepping into plain view, Celtic waits for the Max prey to level his weapon before firing his netgun. The Max prey is thrown backward. The net encircles the ooman leader and attaches to a slab of stone behind him. The net quickly begins to retract into the gun. The Max ooman grunts, using his puny ooman weapon in an attempt to pry the net away from his body. To no avail. The more the ooman struggles, the tighter the net becomes. Until it is cutting into the skin of the Max’s forehead.


    Another ooman, the female, rushes at Celtic with a pointed weapon. He knocks her aside with only a fraction of his usual force. She issues a short cry and hits the floor hard—rolling onto her side.


    A second male ooman tries to intervene. Celtic knocks the infirm idiot aside with a backhand. The infirm ooman crumbles to the ground behind the stone slab where the Max is entangled. A third male, much younger than the infirm idiot, struggles uselessly to free the doomed Max. Celtic grips the younger ooman by his scrawny throat and lifts him high into the air. The eyes of the ooman bulge in his face as the air is taken from its lungs.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The thud of a kick landing makes Celtic glance over his shoulder. The ooman female had foolishly gone for her pointed weapon. With a solid kick, Chopper had sent her flying into a nearby pillar. She pulls herself painfully along on the ground. Celtic makes a note of the event. He will chide Chopper for his brazen disregard for the rules later. The female is no threat. Even with her pointed weapon she could do little harm. She should have been left for the serpents to impregnate.


    With a satisfied growl, Celtic uses his combistick to end the suffering of the ooman called Max. The prey’s eyes flutter shut and his body sags lifelessly in the net. The infirm ooman backs away, staring in terror at his fallen companion. Before Celtic has a chance to revel in his victory, there is a meaty crunch of blood, flesh, and bone. Turning to see what has happened, Celtic’s eyes fall upon a heart-wrenching sight.


    Chopper is suspended in the air by the armored tail of a massive black serpent. The serpent turns its head to peer in Celtic’s direction, mocking him, before tossing Chopper’s body away. Chopper’s lifeless body slides on the floor and slams into a giant slab, pieces of stone breaking free from the impact.


    Celtic releases a loud roar and tosses the ooman male in his grip aside. Beaded braids whipping about in anger, Celtic races across the room. The large serpent makes a calculated leap from its place above him, landing directly on the bulky warrior. Celtic rolls so that he is atop the black beast. Gripping the throat of the serpent and watching out for its murderous tail, Celtic lands several hard punches to its head and abdomen.


    They roll, as they struggle, and the black serpent manages to regain its position atop the warrior. Raking a claw across Celtic’s mask, the creature creates three deep gashes in the metal. The beast lashes out with its tail, in an attempt to impale the fierce hunter. Instead, its tail becomes embedded in the stone—only a few inches from Celtic’s head.


    The angry yautja warrior uses his wrist blades to slice through the serpent’s tail. With a screech, the serpent rears up. Celtics hurls the attacking serpent away with a powerful kick. The black nightmare slams against the floor and spins erratically--desperately attempting to right itself. When it finally does, Celtic wastes no time. He slams the serpent bodily against a giant pillar, jarring it and throwing off its equilibrium.


    Gripping the serpent’s tail in his large clawed hands, Celtic swings it through the air. He slams the spiny creature several times against the surrounding pillars. With a smirk, Celtic releases the beast’s tail. The black serpent sails across the enormous open area. It lands several meters away and scrambles unsteadily to its feet, hissing in fury. However, it still has one more trick.


    As Celtic charges forward, the serpent lashes out with its tail again—spraying acidic blood in the warrior’s direction. Some of the acid eats through Celtic’s metal chest plate. In frustration, he yanks it off. Tossing the smoking armor aside, Celtic searches for his quarry. The black serpent is gone.


    Celtic scans the area, knowing the serpent will not go far. A scraping above his right shoulder causes Celtic to pause. The creature is attempting to ambush him from behind. Readying his netgun, Celtic whirls in a half-circle. The serpent leaps for him and Celtic fires the netgun. The creature squeals as it is temporarily hurtled upward, only to slam down onto the stone below. The stone gives way under the beast’s violent impact. The creature, and Celtic’s net, tumble down into a cavern completely filled with the bones of many long dead oomans.


    Celtic looks down into the death chamber below. Without another moment’s hesitation, he leaps into the pit. Glancing around, he spies his quarry. His wrist blades have been melted beyond repair. Therefore, Celtic retrieves a large blade from a holster on his thigh. By this time, the beast’s acidic blood has eaten through the net.


    With a violent wrenching motion, the beast tears the net in two, catching Celtic by surprise. It leaps upon him with tremendous force, driving him down into the pile of dry ooman bones. The black serpent does not waste time. It slams its secondary inner jaw into Celtic’s facemask. Green blood and pieces of brain matter spray everywhere. With a triumphant screech, the serpent breaks the news of a second kill to its kin.