[4thdimension]

(BTW, this story is PG-14)

The hunters made their way along the dark corridor, their plasma rifles honing in on the single life form on the alien bridge. The dark carpeted deck was littered with bodies, all nearly identical to the prey who had succomed in the cave. Very worthy prey. It was a shame that the crash had been so severe. Now there was only the weak human, hardly fit for the hunt. Four hunters closed in on the bridge as twenty three more continued to search the large vessel for salvageable technology, anything to teach them more about this new prey. The value of knowledge was not lost on the Hirogen.
Toros, the Alpha, made a sharp move with his right hand, and the group fell to the deck. The door to the bridge was dead ahead now, debris and blood littered the entrance.

What could be seen of the door beyond the two foot line of sight that the jammed door provided seemed to be empty. Trox, a young hunter, inexperienced, called out to the Alpha in their sub vocal range of communication, asking why the pack had stopped. The Alpha turned and pointed the rifle at the youths chest, screaming for him to be silent. It was foolish to assume that the human did not have equipment that could hear their speech.
Toros input his orders into the console of his rifle; they would charge in 30 seconds, trox in the rear. The youth hung his head in shame. Inexperience could prove fatal if Toros allowed them to make the mistake of underestimating the prey. The Hirogen who had dealt with the Janeway human years ago had learned that lessen painfully.

Five seconds to go, and the pack formed up. Toros in the lead, followed by Sor and flanked by Coros, the hunter who had made the first kill on the Klingon with the prey's own weapon. With such an honorable trophy, Coros would soon become a threat to Toros, but for now, he was needed in the group.
Two seconds to go and the pack braced to charge, so caught in the frenzy of the hunt, having the prey pined down that they failed to notice that the view into the bridge had been obscured by a flowing golden form. The next moment Toros felt sharp metal running through his throat, below his face mask, the proto-plastic limb went on to impale Sor behind him. The limb was retracted in a flash and a sun hot poleron beam struck Toros in the chest. The last thing he saw was the human's face, from within the bridge. At least he'd been killed by a male.

Coros hesitated. It would have been a quick end to the hunt if he'd fired the plasma rifle into the bridge. Instead he stood there, marveling at the golden life form that their scanners had not detected. He met it's eyes, there was a sense of motion from the new prey, then his vision shifted wildly, and a moment later his head met the floor followed by his huge body.

As if caught in a catastrophic domino effect, Trox, the youngest of the hunters, stood and stared dumbly at the liquid prey. The demon who had just killed the Alpha, and Betas, with nothing more than his own freakish body. Trox ran down the corridor, several minutes later emerging on the surface, he vomited onto the hard dark surface of Valrush, the Sacred Hunting Grounds. They had all thought themselves blessed when the strange vessel had pulled into orbit, now, he wasn't so sure.