Moon of the Hunter

Date: 23 April, 2275

Location: Borkavor VI, Corinth

Begin transcript

Tonight is the night.

Tonight is the night that this world's moon comes closest to our world, eclipsing the light of the stars. Every generation, this world's moon strays from its orbital path. As our forefathers told us, as their forefathers told them, this is the night of judgement. We shut our windows, prepare our defences and prepare for them. They, the hunters...

No-one has answered our pleas for help and there are mere hours before midnight. The hunters will come, given light by the moon on high, hiding this world from the gaze of creation, from the judgement of any who dwell on high that possess morality. Some scoff at the tales, believing them to be stories told to frighten children, but that is wishful thinking. The children are always spared. It would not do the hunters well for no cattle to grow for the next hunt.

We prepare to face the dark, but it is in vain. Nothing can stop the hunters, immune to gunshot, to sword, to hope...No door is closed to them, no man can stand before a hunter and live to tell the tale. Peace may not be made for them, for it is not war they wage against their flock, but something worse. Something that stems from the belief that the strong have the right to dominate the weak. While the lives of the strong are of worth, the lives of the weak are beneath their notice. They would pay no more heed to the word of Man than I would to an insect on my boot.

Some they will not kill immediately. After hunting those who would stand against them, they pick out those they deem worthy, though by definition, "unworthy" is perhaps the better word. The ones they choose are worthy of satiating their bloodlust, but unworthy of continued existence, their only use being to spawn a new form of life. From the incubators of their cattle, they spawn new hunters, those who would provide more of a thrill. They will leave none alive by the time they depart, no xenomorph or cattle foolish enough to interfere.

Some call the hunters "demons," claiming they feed on our fear, but that is not the case. They have no interest in the emotions of their livestock. And despite what some may say, the hunters are real, unlike the images we conjure in our minds to justify their existence, to comprehend their actions. Perhaps one day we will succeed. But not this day. Not this night. For there is not enough time for that...

...after all, the moon is rising.

End transcript

Archivist's note: This transcript was found in the settlement of Corinth on Borkavor VI, two weeks after the first and only distress call was received. USCM investigation revealed little to no damage of infrastructure apart from some corrosion of metal by an acid-like substance, further supporting evidence of xenomorph activity. Casualty rates were around seventy-five percent, the remaining twenty-five be comprised almost entirely of children and other individuals whose only criteria for survival seemed to be that they were of, or nearing reproductive age. Aid was provided and the USS Verent promptly departed the system, as stationing a garrisoning force on "hunting worlds" is currently "cost prohibitive."