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A different type of warrior	By : ItchyTasty Category: M through R > Predator Views: 12967 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Predator movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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1, Four Legs: Yautja. The name of his people echoing back to the darkest reaches of time to fill him with pride for his ancestry. His kind, the highest predators in the galaxy, able to challenge and kill nearly any adversary. His armor is light, favoring momentum and agility as his form of protection. His strong heart pumps viscous green-yellow blood throughout his body at an immense rate. Thundering with the anticipation of the violence that is about to ensue. He can hear the drones skittering in the ruined underbelly of the Ooman structure. Yet he cannot see them.
His being a small clan, they have few of the multi spectrum ventilator masks, and his is simply a breath unit combined with an armored face plate. He does not grudge it however, he has hunted before, he is in his prime. The top of his helmet scrapes the chitinous roof of the large drainage pipe, it's walls are nearly at his sides, side passages and partially collapsed areas litter his path. He knows he must tread carefully, his prey is dangerous. He is tall for one of his kind, yet thin. His brothers used to tease him of his lower weight, all but one were dead now, he and his brother had sired suckers to honorable females. They were worthy of the gods, worthy of their father's legacy, they did their clan honor.
He moved quickly maintaining his silence past scattered debris, he couldn't make out the hard meat in the half dark. They would be sleeping, his fellow hunters and he were attempting to thin their numbers before going into the nest after Praetorians. Long range scans from their Man'Daca indicated that the hive queen on this world was nearing the end of her life cycle. In this situation several drones would morph due to pheromones into smaller demiqueens or Praetorians, faster than a hive queen heavily armed and armored and possessing a singular tenacity few Yautja had ever claimed one's head. Ka'ja'rand swelled slightly at the thought of taking one in single combat, even death versus such a foe would be a story worthy of praise.
He crouched low his thoughts cut short at a chittering of carapace in the pipes. When it came it was fast, yet he was ready for it. His combi-spear extending in a thrust the Kiande Amedha couldn't quite avoid in the confines between the pipes. The bright spear piercing the creature in a gush of acidic blood and pinning it's hissing form to the wall behind. It's shrieks and cries called it's brethren from the depths, soon he could hear several more of the creatures, and then see them as they charged. His left arm came up as he backed away from the still living hard meat, he would take it's head after the fight was done. His father had left him many things at his death, one of which was a wrist mounted plasma caster that had been in the family for generations. His brother had challenged his right to the weapon yet conceded it in favor of the more popular if less skillful shoulder mounted burner. The weapon came to life it's housing extending prepared to fire, he could see them moving, there were many of them, accuracy was not necessary, they could not all dodge.
“Honor for my father and clan!” He roared at the beasts and discharged the weapon. It sounded like the death shriek of a large herd animal, it's florescent yellow glow illuminating the tunnel for a moment blinding him. Then it tore into his enemies leaving the first ranks eviscerated in a popping hissing pile of melting acidic carapace. He retracted the weapon with his mandible and extended his Ki'cti-pa. In time for the first of the hard meat to charge him. It came claws first, it's mouth opening for it's inner jaws to snatch out trying to pierce his visor. He gave it no chance crouching into it's advance and sending the lighter creature over his head with an upward thrust of his bladed fist rending the creature's chest cavity sending acid blood raining down upon his lightly armored form. It hissed and bit into his flesh but it only served to fuel his battle fury. The others would not be so lucky.
He charged sparing no movements, he parried claws, crushed nerve clusters and severed vital organs in sure movements. The bottom of the tunnel filled with alien offal slowly eating through to lower levels. His sandal bottoms smoked as the acid etched their armored underside. Suddenly he was tackled from behind his momentum carrying him into the last three of the creatures. He rolled narrowly escaping the snapping jaw of the nearest drone. With a violent kick he lifted himself to his feet landing a fatal blow against the offending alien's head as it crushed between his weight and the floor of the tunnel. The other two turned and fled.
Behind him however was something he had heard of but not seen before. It was like the drones in size yet considerably lighter in build without the usual crests and dorsal spines. It retained an elongated tail tipped with a razor sharp point however. It stalked forward slowly, it's tail poised to strike the distance full again of it's body. Yet on four fast looking legs that could close distance quickly enough to end all but the agilest hunter's hope of escape. He roared a challenge knowing this to be a worthy foe. His enemy struck with great speed the tail striking into the armored pauldron on his right shoulder when he dropped it just in time to parry the blow, yet it did not stop and was on him pinning him briefly to the ground until he rolled away. It's claws left small gashes in his flesh, he would wear the scars proudly of such an encounter. The beast slashed with it's tail again running up the wall to pounce from above, he parried the lightning quick attack and batted the agile thing to the ground with a swift pivoting kick, it slammed at an awkward angle dislocating it's shoulder. He howled his triumph and moved in for the kill only to see it pop it's joint back into place and square off again.
Worthy indeed he thought. The tail came again and again it's tip sharp as any combi-staff nearly pierced his armor every time it scored more than a glancing blow. It was then that he realized he would have to let it hit him in a charge in order to kill it. His father and the clan master had taught him the technique. They called it sheathing the knife. To take a blow in order to score a fatal hit. He braced himself, allowing a portion of his torso to be vulnerable he would take the strike and use the hard meats own tail as a rope to pull it to him and kill it if it was his last deed. Thus he would honor the clan and take his rightful place in uls-kwe.
He would never have the chance. The hard meat shuddered, and then looked around aimlessly as the whole tunnel shook with the force of the shock wave. The four legged beast ran for the light and he pursued it only to halt as the entire tunnel began to collapse around him. He roared in his frustration and turned to run the other way. Had the elders thought them lost and given the kiss of midnight to the planet? All light left the world as the far end of the tunnel collapsed he crouched low searching for enemies and was struck in the head by something hard and heavy. The world dimmed and he knew no more.
Kara's name tag said NCO, but her tit's said civilian. The others on the deck knew that and didn't try to make it seem like they didn't notice. She even went so far is to puff up her chest a bit to encourage the thought. It was a simple game of cat and mouse, if they thought they could pounce on her, it would be easier to impale them when they landed. An amusing thought.
The duty officer made the introductions, she and her team would be coming with them, yes they had to take orders from the planet side softies. Yes they were under company orders. No he couldn't tell them what they were looking for. Only that a small nuclear device in an abandoned terriforming project had gone south of happy and attracted interest enough to send the small cruiser.
She smiled at them, they were muscle enough to see if the company could salvage anything from the wreck. The terriforming facility had been left derelict for a few years waiting for the marines to go clean out the bug infestation before it could be reoccupied. The bugs had evidently done the job themselves by making the reactor go thermal.
Or at least that's what the company said. She had been around long enough, and had had a stubborn father. She knew better. She also knew to keep her trap shut and do her job, it made life easier to act stupid and take advantage, it was why she was ranked third of the science weenies along for the trip, odious though her task was. Assessing the cause of the blast was more interesting work than say calculating whether the amount of salvageable material that was left was worth the fuel of a cargo barge and it's escort to bring back to civilized space. However, the company always had an eye out for acquiring xeno specimens, and the amount of gear her CO had brought along spoke of possible bug survivors. Best to be cautious, there were still rumors of the company performing experiments on military personnel and their own. Sick bastards the lot of them.
She paid more attention as the last stream of the Sargent's explicatives was bouncing harmlessly off his troopers hardened ears. “Alright you slack jawed faggots, stow your shit and get rigged for cryo we've got a two week trip and company don't want you eating all the food!” Said Sargent Mallan before turning to them.“If you'll follow me, your sleeping arrangements have been put up on the officer's deck.”
“Slightly better than the last boat eh Kara?” said Michael Sanderson, Mikey to his friends, which she wasn't.
She'd had to bunk with that arrogant ass for a three month trip to the boonies to examine alien ruins. He still hadn't stopped trying to get in her pants. She'd dropped the hint...
“No I will not fucking sleep with you.” She said hoping to at least temporarily quell his hopes, he was stubborn, and sadly enough, she liked stubborn. As they walked behind the commanding military officer, she thought about the chance of getting some sleep, they all took his commands easily enough even though she herself was a warrant officer, and her CO was a 2nd Lieutenant. Their turn to lead would come during the salvage and reclamation part of the journey.
The cryo chamber was standard military even if it was an officer's berth. The only real difference between it and the grunt's quarters was that the showers had walls between them, odd considering they had no doors and you could look right in at whoever was doing their thing. Not that she minded, she prided herself on the way she kept her body. Her core was tight, her legs firm from running, her breasts natural though abnormal on such an athletic frame. Not that she ever complained about them, when she wanted company, male or female, she found it easy to get, and with her generous mouth, easy eyes, and firm ass she usually had more than she wanted. That thought caused her a brief frown as she paused to strip down for the long nap she was about to take.
She could feel Michael's eyes roving over that cleft in her butt cheeks where her girl parts was just barely visible. She lifted her middle finger over her shoulder in salute. He chuckled and she heard his plasteel shell shut him in. The others on her team she knew better than her pesky would be suitor. They were all pretty easy to get along with. Mallory, the only other female on the team, though slightly mannish and dumpy, was a cheerful sort with her floppy breasts and easy laugh. Darian her CO taunt and strong in his bodybuilder frame and scythe like intelligence. Andrew with his never ending tirades of whatever the hell happened to come out of his mouth. And Sam, whom she had slept with on more than one occasion, and who never expected anything out of her that she didn't want to give.
She frowned as the shell shut and the gas began to mist over her. Shouldn't she fall for someone like that with an easy demeanor who didn't expect anything out of her unless she wanted to give it. Hell the sex wasn't half bad either... darkness crept in. The dreams of a cryo sleep are restless. The mind flits from thing to thing without settling on any particular topic for long. The memories one has when waking are broken like the twisted wreckage of a bombed out city.
She saw horrific wars, millions dying in open combat on a field of death. She felt a lovers touch, the caress of bare flesh against hers, the pulse of a neck against her lips, the grinding of hips as she was gently forced open. She saw herds of animals galloping across endless plains of grass, the rush of the wind flipping the tails on the stalks hither and thrither under a moonlit sky. She saw a great dark lord, giant over a terrified people weighing the morality of their lives and chuckling as they were consumed by terror and flame. She felt the comfort of strong arms, wrapping warmth around her to shield her in a storm. All in the blink of an eye, all at once, all the same.
He woke again, he couldn't remember how long he had been there. He could still breathe, although he had multiple broken ribs. His helmet had absorbed the majority of the damage and his head was unhurt. Yet he was stuck. His left arm was pinned under an undetermined amount of fallen debris. It was the gauntlet with the computer unit that was hung up. He had tried to move the stone and metal with his free arm and his feet yet it would not budge, the weight was too heavy even for him. He knew he could use his Ki'cti-pa to cut his arm away above the gauntlet and survive the injury. However... that would also arm the tactical sun bomb in the unit and it's purging fire would surely catch him. No he was no fool, he would wait, and bide his time, he would exhaust all options before willfully seeking his own death.
She woke to the monotone dinging of the cryo clock at the end of the deck blaring that their ship had arrived. Kara had always hated mornings. No hate was the wrong word, she loathed them. However the fact that she bridged both the civilian world and the military and held rank meant she was up at the crack of ass most days. Being as how it was a larger vessel she hopped quick across the cold floor hoping to get the early bird special on the hot water.
She was sorely disappointed to find the only button in the damn thing was the standard marine issue on switch which was on a company regulated timer for eight minutes. She heard one of the boys bitching about the same thing.
“Even on the big boats we don't get anything aside from the bare minimum, fucking company assholes.” He said Mallory piped in with her view. “I thought this was a military ship?”
“Who do you think builds the damn things and leases them out to the government?” Said Michael from two stalls down.
Kara just shook her head and messaged some cleanser into her scalp, it always felt dirty after a cryo sleep. She wondered what the grunts would think of her shaved head and the skull tattoo blazon on it's side. She'd find out soon enough she thought as she finished washing up. After she'd finished donning her fatigues she went to a viewport. She felt a bit awkward knowing that some two hundred marines were prepping dropships at the moment to ferry her small team to that rock so they could see if there was any money left.
Weyland liked to reclaim it's lost investments. Soon soldiers came and shepherded them and their personal effects to the loading bay where three dropships were ready to depart. They piled into one of the birds. Minding their p's and q's like good little civies. She almost puked at the civility of it all. However she caught many a roving eye and tried to return their glances with a simple glare saying, “this is a strictly look but don't touch if you like your hand intact affair.” She'd find out soon as base camp was setup if it would play out that way.
Then there was that stomach flipping lurch as the dropship fell from the cruiser. It's sisters flanking it to the left in a parallel course toward the center axis of the planet, the only place routinely hot enough for humans to run around without extensive winter gear.
“What does the military know about the planet?” She asked, knowing the answer already.
“Bugs, should be dead, which means, expect bugs.” Said one of the marines in a crisp blurb around a lit cigar, which he was rotating in his mouth absentmindedly. So these men had been around the block a bit. Good, she needed to know they knew which way to point their pulse rifles. The pilot came on the comm shortly instructing them in what was a familiar and ritualistic part of all drops.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are in the pipe five by five, we will be breaking atmo at over six thousand meters per second and decreasing our speed rapidly one way or another. Don't lose your lunch on those white jackets and enjoy the ride.”
The dropship abruptly hit a barrier and the hull filled with vibration. Kara did her best to calm her excitement and seem bored. The others looked nervous. The marines on the other hand were busy shouting and trading banter back and forth save their CO and the guy with the cigar, he was busy fiddling with a customized pistol, he was disassembling the thing and cleaning it while in mid drop. She doubted the turbulence bothered his operation one bit. He noticed her looking over at him and grinned.
“The barrel is reinforced as is the action, I've modified the trigger pull to eight ounces, feels like snot sliding over glass it's firing match grade HV explosive rounds these puppies penetrate about an inch into whatever they hit and then blow holes the size of a regulat...”
“Stow it soldier, she doesn't give a damn about your side arm.” Said the Sargent cutting the man off.
“In point of fact I was interested, I did tactical engineering before the company pulled me from military service.” said Kara “I'd love to shoot with you some time.”
The man with the cigar nodded and went back about his work. Nothing more needed to be said, he would know what tac engineers were good for, building shit, and blowing it apart, however most were shitty behind a rifle, much less a pistol with such a light trigger. Kara wasn't satisfied with that outcome though.
“I find that a heavier pull, about four pounds makes for a more accurate group.” She said.
The man with the cigar kept fiddling, one of his juniors turned to her and piped up.
“Begging your pardon mam, if you'd ever fought bugs before you'd know, it isn't so much accuracy as it is being able to get that second shot off before his friends land on you.” He said and fell silent.
She knew she was right, she was a good shot, but she had to admit, she'd done more demo than shooting, and always against other men, never against the Xenos. So, knowing these men little, she kept her trap shut. The dropship touched down without incident, the M577 APC rode out of the back, it's big wheels grinding stone and grit to powder beneath it and kicking up dust. The dropship and her cousins promptly lifted and flew back toward space. Standard precaution to avoid bringing a xeno back to the herky bird in the sky. The Sargent spent time looking out the viewfinder of the turret and checking the terrain. Meanwhile every one of the marines was obviously getting antsy. The light of dawn brought their convoy to a rocky outcropping about three hundred meters from what had once been the reactor unit of a large terraforming operation.
The apcs set themselves up, the turrets going into auto detect mode with clean ground one hundred feet from them in all directions forming a defensive perimeter. They would hoof it from there. She made sure her locater was working with the computer system twice before she even stepped out of the damn thing. It just wouldn't do to have a bullet as long as an adult male's finger rip through her spine. Outside the marines busied themselves with the gear. Setting up a series of small tents, and a few larger portable structures including a medical wing and a communications room for commanding the operation. Her people set about getting their own equipment setup in the medical tent, they were hoping they wouldn't have to use it for it's intended purpose but it was the best the military had to offer and would do for their purposes. The day went quickly on this world, the gravity was slightly less than she was used too. It was nearly mid day before they had everything situated, yet they'd landed at near dawn less than five hours ago. When it was all setup the Lieutenant called the Sargent and them together and went over the mission directives.
“We are here for three reasons, firstly our tactical engineer Kara is to determine the cause of the explosion. Secondly to attempt to determine if this facility is worth rebuilding or salvaging, and thirdly, to attempt to bring back specimens of the xenomorph species dead or alive if any are still present.” He said.
Kara's immediate thought was something to the order of. (Wow, that's a first...) The rest of the assembled men and women seemed to think similarly, Weyland Corporation was rarely this blunt about it's interest in alien life, it was usually something the higher ups tried to hide.
“Frankly boss, I refuse to allow one of those things alive on the ship, period, fuck the corporation if I may.” Said the Cigar smoker “Duly noted, and trust me, I have no intent to bring back live specimens, if we find live xeno's we extract, and report the site as lost.” He said “I'm no coward, but I've heard to many stories about those bastards and have no wish to wake up to my ribs being ripped open.”
“Cheers.” Said another grunt.
Kara couldn't help but smile, he was a smart asshole her boss. She would have to give him props next time the QA department grilled her about how well he was doing his job.
“Sargent, whip up a scouting party, take Kara and Michael down to the blast site and get me a report on the radiation, it should be minimal, these are newer reactors, I want to know if it all blew or if we're sitting on something that isn't done cooking.” He said
“Right o maggots, you heard the man, (God all Sargents sounded the same) Get some bread and butter and pack your shit.” He continued “Marcus, Rickman, Johnson, and Clark you're with me and the ladies.”
Michael didn't take that too well she saw, however he couldn't do a damn thing about it. The sarge might be a bit grey, and getting a gut, but he packed enough iron on those arms to rip a throat out easy as open a can of beer. Once they had their shit wired they shoved off toward the hole. Getting closer she realized the massive extent of the destruction. The subterranean structures of the power plant and some of the surrounding living quarters had been decimated, the entire engineering wing of the damn plant was just gone, burnt to cinders. She knew before they even reached the edge that something more than a core overload happened to the plant.
Michael, not having her ordinance knowledge didn't seem to notice the discrepancy. With her instruments she measured the hole's circumference and diameter, it was lopsided, the damn thing had a secondary sphere of destruction off to the south of the initial blast. The marines looked anxious, so she went over to find out why.
“What gives?” She asked
“You've been busy with you're tools, we pulled out binochs, see that?” Asked Rickman, pointing across the way down to a lower section, the walls hadn't collapsed in on themselves completely and she could see what he was talking about.
“Bug nest?” She asked
“Part of it, looks like they tunneled through the rock as well as converting some of the human passages to their own, don't see any action, but I wouldn't count them out of the fight yet.” Said the Sargent
“What do you mean the fight?” She asked
“Queen wouldn't let her drones fiddle with the heat source for her eggs, somebody set this thing off somehow,” He said “Colonists...” He shook his head and looked back at the pit. So much for knowing more than the rest of the outfit, these marines weren't stupid, they knew something was up. What was the company not telling them? No point in holding back.
“Explosion is too big and not shaped right for a core overload.” She told him quietly “Company sent us here knowing something was up.”
“You don't like your job much do you?” He asked
“Pays the bills.” said Kara before walking back over to her equipment. Later at the end of the day when they were headed back the sarge came up to her.
“Here take this,” He said pressing a VP-70 pistol and holster into her hand. She looked down at it carefully, then drew it moving the slide, ejecting the round and removing the magazine. She reloaded the weapon and smiled, it felt good to be armed again.
“Thank you,” She said He waved her off as if it was all he could do. She was glad to have his respect.
More time had passed, he was tiring, he knew he would die in the next few days, he couldn't let this be his grave. He hoped that his clan would send warriors to investigate, however that seemed unlikely as the days went by. It was an Ooman world, which meant that there could be no grave for him, he would have to detonate his tactical sun bomb and rend the earth with his passing. It would be fitting, all who would come to this world would know a warrior chose his time and place. He was contemplating making his piece with Paya and ending it before time did it for him when sleep took hold again.
Their investigations continued over the next two days, there had been no sightings of xenomorphs so no need for evac. The site was relatively clean of radiation just as suspected. Everything was favorable in everyone's report, aside from hers, and the gut instincts of the marines. Of course she had moved her team over to the edge of the crater's smaller explosion to investigate that as soon as she could. It was curious, according to the map of the building layout the only thing in that area was drainage systems. Could a colonist have dropped a small tactical nuke in the waste disposal unit? She shuddered at the thought of such incompetence. She was just packing her things to head back to base camp when she noticed something sticking out of the rock off to her right further from the edge of the depression.
It was black and almost metallic looking. She went over to examine it more closely. She knelt down and brushed some sand off it, suddenly the xenomorph's head burst from the loose earth snapping at her, it's clawed fist grabbed her by the ankle as she tried to escape. She screamed as it pulled her back to it's gaping jaws dislodging more earth. Until the ground beneath it gave way and it's full weight fell into a pit while still gripping her leg, she only weighing a hundred and twenty five pounds was helpless and followed it's momentum down into the dark.
The xeno landed in a clump with her on top of it. Deep rooted combat instincts roared to life in the back of her head that still registered as marine and she drew her pistol. She fired point blank into the creature's head three times before the weapon jammed because of the splash of acid on the slide. If the trigger pull had been lighter she might have fired a forth. Yet the claw loosened and she was free, in a tunnel the opening ten feet above her and far from her reach.
“Hey fucktards I'm down here,” she yelled The marines had come running when she screamed the first time but couldn't find her, they thought she'd fallen over the edge into the pit. When they heard her voice they moved back from the edge and found the hole.
“Well how the hell did you end up down there?” Asked the Sarge “Were those pistol shots?”
“Fucking half dead xeno grabbed my ankle and wouldn't let go, dragged me down, it's dead now.” She said
“Tits of steel,” He said “We'll get a rappel rope, just a second, wait here!” Something bounced off her shoulder and hit the ground near by. She picked it up, it was a flashlight.
His vision faded in and out, he was very weak yet he refused to give into the dark, someone had come into the tunnel and killed the Kainde Amedha that had escaped his wrath. He would honor the warrior. His visor was heavy on his face yet he could still turn his head enough to see the young warrior who had come to his rescue. His hope dimmed when he glimpsed the human female form crouching to pick up some cylinder off of the cold ground. He began chuckling to himself, so this is how it would end. At the hands of an inferior specie's greatest warrior. She heard the muted clicking and laughter right about the time she stumbled on the flashlight. She thought it was an echo from above at first. The light flashed on to show that the alien was half ruined by the nuclear blast and his torso was destroyed below his belly. She had faced only a haunting shadow of the threat that once plagued these passages. The men above tossed her down a rope, yet before she scaled it she took the time to look around the rest of the tunnel, it was a collapsed main drainage pipe, leading out to the sea, it was blocked off by the detonation on one end and on the other...
“Oh my god...” She said “What? Hurry and climb up!” Said Sarge
“Get your ass down here and bring some digging equipment, I think I found what the company is looking for.” She said while her eyes stared half in terror, half in awe of the unconscious form of the epitome of masculine excess. A nearly eight foot tall muscle bound nightmare covered in alien tech.
Thanks for reading this far. Second chapter coming soon!
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A different type of warrior