Alright then, my mind is going at a million miles per hour, my heart's beating, my hands are shaking but I'm still shooting (did you guys get this meme?) Let's go!

Mark slammed the hish's head against the wall, caving his skull in and splattering the metal frame of it with blood.

He panted, high on adrenaline as he ran into the corridor, armed with a knife and spear. The running guard was killed thanks to stab to the throat, and he threw the spear with such force that it nailed three enemies to the wall, killing them by piercing their collective hearts.

'Where is it? WHERE?!' he ran, checking room after room, and still killing more and more hish. Right now allarms were blaring, stealth was not an option and his best chance of survival was to collect his gear.

He was stark naked but he cared not for modesty, not while fighting. They had done something to him, something felt wrong with his body, but he didn't know what; only when he would do a full scan in the med bay of ship would be receive is sought out answers. (remember this right here, this will be important later on in the next few chapters)

When he was still on the game preserve he tracked the location of the ship.

He had underestimated the capabilities of the hish: whilst he was fighting, they had managed to isolate him in a lone cargo chamber, lock it up and gas him. It had taken hours, for the air filtration system in his mask was very advanced. But after so much usage it was ultimately incapable of purifying the air, and his reserve of oxygen inevitably ran out, and he had been unconscious for who knew how long.

When he had awoken, he was chained to an operating table, scalpels and syringes were placed next to him on a table, and may more things. There were some cuts on him, but were nothing that he couldn't handle.

He had surprised the healers by breaking out his bonds, using his augmented strength, and had proceeded to slaughter the entire room.

Now he was searching for his armor, and then he would search for his ship. The hish could not be allowed to have the technology.

What was worse was the fact that when he had approached the fleet, he had turned the tracker off with the code that Yurli had given him. And clearly he had not turned it back on, so the arbitrators of his clan were properly concerned, and obviously had no idea of his present situation.

Finally he broke the automatic door in front of him with a heavy kick, and entered the large room. His armor, and weapons were present in the room, numerous scrawny looking hish were huddling all around his armor, doing who knew what.

Their heads snapped towards his direction upon hearing the loud bang, but he was already on them, lodging the knife into the throat of one punching the other away. His hand grasped the hilt of his katana and he raised it high, the lights of the large space gleaming off of its hilt, and brought it down in a flash, cleaving the first fucker in half from shoulder to side, he whirled around, decapitating the next one, and he spun around to stab the hish behind him.

The fight did not last long at all, and once that was done, he began to strap in his awu'asa, sliding the metal plating over his thighs and torso, along with the pelts, helmet, plasma casters and belt. The gauntlets and boots came next, as did all of the knifes and other weapons.

He booted up the systems, the interior of his mask coming alive with information and data. Everything was fine, the hish were too stupid and slow witted to understand the mechanisms of his gear, luckily for him.

All seemed functional, and Make activated a gps tracking function, which served more as a display for the location he was at.

He anxiously waited as the computer analyzed the... whatever building he was in. Finally, a clear 3d map of his location was displayed on the holographic camera, and Mark realized that he was on an orbiting station.

It shocked him, for he did not think that the hish would have the brains to build such a marvel of technology; but now was not the time for hesitation: he still had a mission at hand.

He stared at the holographic map, eyeing a few key rooms that could have been the central terminal of the station.

The whole place was swarming with hundreds of enemies, but this was just like a regular kiande amedha hive: he would have to prove to be the better and stronger beast.

Doing one last check to be sure that all was in good conditions, he ran out of the room, plasma casters armed and ready, sword brandished in his arms. More blood would cost its blade, of that, Mark had never been surer.

He wrestled the guard to the floor, bashing his mask with a vicious headbutt, sending him reeling back, Mark punched him twice, but those two hits were all that were needed as he caved his face in.

Using the spear of the fallen enemy, he threw it like a javelin, intent on taking out the charging enemy. This one was armored, and the weapon merely bounced off of him. But his joints were still exposed, and that gave him an idea: Mark dodged the swipe of the wrist blades, wrapped his arms around that of his opponent and twisted, a loud audible pop echoed along with a roar of agony.

Immediately after that, Mark pulled the head of the hish by the tendrils so that it fell into his hold, and tightening his arms in the headlock, he pulled upwards, and one final snap was heard as the body went limp in his arms, dead.

Running to the gargantuan set of controls and displays, Mark opened the protective casing of his computer and scanned the keyboards.

Being showed the schematics, he was able to successfully hack into the network of the station, and much to his delight, found out that he also had access to the data banks of the hish planet they were orbiting. He was so glad of possessing the advanced engineer technology, it truly did boost the yautja's own to levels never seen before.

The elite began to download everything, every pro the memory storages on his ship. All of the plans, designs would be his soon. This was a game changer.

He now held control. As he was downloading everything, Mark started typing, a translated version of the hish symbols was present on the display of his mask.

The human turned down the alarms, and thanks to the thermo dynamic heat signatures, he locked certain rooms and hallways, essentially trapping his enemies inside their very own rooms. This was payback for before.

Then, as his adrenaline lowered, he heard it again: the hissing.

'No, no, no, NO! Not now! Make it stop!' he growled, punching the floor as he crouched, leaving a noticeable dent in the plate.

He held his head, trying to think about something else.

"Now this is what I call a proper heist mission." he whirled around, to see the other Mark, comfortably sitting in one of the chairs, leaving back as he propped up his feet on the counter of the monitor.

"Shut up! Leave!" Mark yelled, frustrated with his presence.

The other merely chuckled, "But why? Is it a crime to visit myself? You and I, we are the same. Or have you forgotten?" he asked him, a taunting smile etched on his lips.

Mark pointed an accusing finger at him, "You and I are nothing alike! Nothing!" he growled, his senses going into panic as he felt the noises of the rapid movements of the serpents.

"Oh, oh my, you are right! I am human, and you are an abomination! Ha! The irony!" the other Mark laughed.

The elite hunter bolted and kicked the version of himself that was wearing the trench coat, breaking the chair.

"Aww shucks, that seat was quite the comfort: it was really relaxing to rest your as on." the voice spoke from behind him, and Mark whirled around, picked up another chair and threw it at him, ""

The ding from his computer wrist brought his attention back to the display. It was done, the download was done.

Quickly, he scanned through the levels of the station, opening up the doors so that he created a clear route that would leave to the docking port where his ship was placed.

It was likely that a few hish would attempt to restart the controls of the panel, so Mark deactivated the filtration system. Poisonous gas would soon envelop the entire station, killing all who were on board. But Mark would survive, as his technology would prevent him from receiving the same fate.

He ran out of the terminal chamber, making sharp turns along the large hallways and rooms, occasionally killing the hish that were present, which was much easier now since he had his equipment.

Mark kicker the last opponent, such was the force that his neck snapped, and his corpse fell to the ground.

He turned to his ship, activating the door as the ramp extend downwards so that he could board it.

There were some marks on it, clearly the sign that the fuckers had tried to force their way into the large ship that he called home, but alas it was all for nought: they still proved to be incapable.

Getting inside, Mark sat down in the piloting chair, and accessing the systems of the station, he opened the gate.

The endless void of space was revealed to him, and Mark pushed out of the port, quickly accelerating so that he was far away. He saved the coordinates, those would come in useful later on, but he refrained from reactivating the tracker, as he was sure that he would immediately get blasted with calls.

He opened the files of hish, analyzing all of them along with the more powerful computer of the ship.

Soon, he made a discovery that froze his blood: there was going to be an invasion on Earth.

No... an Invasion was already taking place and it would likely start in just a few hours, given the time that the hish fleet would need to arrive.

This was it... his race would be conquered and enslaved... but he would spit on his own grave before he would let that happen.

Quickly, he saw that the station was armed with the hish equivalent of nuclear missiles. He targeted all o them to all of the major and minor cities of the planet.

If they were to take away his world, then he would do the same to one of theirs.

What he was about to do was risky, but he had no choice. He turned his ship around, set a course to Earth via the warp portals, and set it on automatic pilot.

He selected all of the informations and data and proceeded to send it to the high matriarch. Due to the large size of it, it would take some time.

In that instance, he opened a call with the matron. After some time, she answered, and her mighty figure was displayed to him.

"Elite Mark, I was not expecting this." he interrupted her, "Forgive honored matron, I have very little time to speak and explain. I am sending you everything that I have gathered about the hish to you, they are planning an invasion on Earth, and I must go to defend my home world. I beg you, send this to the other major clans as well." "Wait, w- he closed the call, just as the data finished sending.

This was going to be a long day.

Woo!

Two chapters in a single day! And written in little more than two hours!

Let's go people!

Comment your theories on what is to come, what will happen, and what has happened to Mark.

I'm on fire!