Beeping softly echoed in the room, a soft red glow filling the Oracle center as the faint tapping and chittering of mandibles followed.

A blue hologram filled the screen, Strange Glyphs flowing through Text boxes on the side, as the echoing Thrum and Klaxons of alarms followed, a Red Bar flying across the screen, rotating and forming into a stylized triangle. The blare of the Alarms grew more intense as they zoomed in, entire light-years passing by in swift clicks and taps of a button, a Station came into view, the Bars forming an upside-down triangle around it. Dozens of Audio bars appeared, screeching and hissing echoing as thousands of green dots were marked at random intervals. The forms of Xenomorphs vaguely formed from said dots, as experienced eyes looked around in search of any survivors.

The same triangle would then shift, spiraling and forming around TX611. The icons of strange creatures, all glowing green following afterward. The planet was infested by the Kainde Amedha (Xenomorphs), their Queen and spawn having spread out far too much. Those damn Insectoids and their inability to properly do body scans, coupled with whatever poor fools didn't choose to stop the cancerous spread before it began. The Serpents are a tumor, and the fact it wasn't taken care of could spell disaster if it's not done off with quickly.

The Reptomammalian slowly rose from his seat, Arthropod like mandibles began to tap and click hefty ivory Tusks together, glowing red and blue eyes narrowing, stretching the large claw-Scar across his face. The Darker-toned Yautja began his descendent from the Oracle chair, talons lightly tapping at his sides as he nodded and chuffed to his Blood Brothers and Sisters, the younger hunters raising their hands to beat a fist firmly to their chests in salute. Their Chitters of greetings were noticed but he simply grunted in return, as he made his way towards the council chambers.

The Yautja had been gone for far too long, the Serpents have reawoken to a galaxy filled with more DNA variation than ever before. They would thrive as they always did, like parasitic cancer growths that grew in power with every kill and kidnapping. He would not allow it, because a warrior did not sit back and allow those to suffer down below him. "Mei'hswei. Mei-jadhi! Thei-de Ikthala! Kainde Amedha Kv'var!" (Brothers, Sisters. A deathly cataclysm has begun. A hunt for the serpents must begin now!) He loudly stated as he entered the council room, the elders and elites pausing their arguments once the large dark-skinned male entered.

The elites chittered softly, their elders silent for what felt like hours. Before the leader of the Clan slowly stood up, the grey-haired, quill-bearded male clicking his tusks as he examined the Dark-skinned warrior. His son, a bastard son of course, but still his own. He slowly looked around to the elites, before placing a first to his chest and loudly roaring out his words, his final judgment upon the situation at hand. "Dtai'kai'-dte!" (To battle!) The Clan elder's call and roar echoed through the halls, the Elites roaring in agreement. Once it grew silent, the Eldest leader looked down at his son and finally spoke. "Pe M-di Pa'ya-te Thei-de. Cetanu, Paya, Nrak'ytara. Mon'Toane." (Death before Dishonor, Let Cetanu and Paya be your Guardians, Mon'Toane…).

With those final words, he sat back down. The only response he got in return, was his son nodding and motioning for the other elites to follow him. The hunt began now, for those in that system needed them now. More than ever.