"Their technology is so advanced that they can even secretly abduct humans from Earth without anyone noticing, so why do they act so... barbarically?"
Mombasa, the black man, asked in bewilderment. Clearly, he knew nothing about Wakanda, that place with the ridiculous premise Marvel Comics had dreamed up.
Nick did know a little of the relevant background. There seemed to be a theory that the Predators were not an independently developed civilization, but a race forcibly accelerated into existence by a higher civilization.
Not only did they still maintain a primitive tribal system internally, venerating slaughter and individual martial prowess, but the technology they used was also a kind of "black box" technology. They only knew how to operate it, and perhaps possessed some manufacturing capabilities, but did not truly understand it or develop it further.
That also explained why Nolan could use a Predator's helmet after getting his hands on it. It was the same principle as electronic products becoming increasingly foolproof to operate as modern technology advanced.
"Maybe you could go to their camp and ask them yourself. While you're there, see if you can borrow a spaceship. I've seen one, less than a hundred yards from the camp."
Nolan sneered. "Still, you did pretty well earlier. You're the smartest batch of prey I've ever seen. Digging a hole to hide in really is a pretty good way to stay alive."
"We've already been there. They really aren't very keen on communicating, so we had a little disagreement. We lost two people, and so did they."
Nick's words made the others struggle to suppress their laughter, dispelling some of the fear brought on by the bits of "truth" Nolan had revealed.
Everyone present was essentially a desperado. Since they had already been dumped in this hellhole as prey,