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The Fighting Irish: Catalyst and the Dtai'kai'rish	By : girlyhero Category: M through R > Predator Views: 4397 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from Predator, Alien Vs. Predator, Alien franchises.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
I sort of wish I had combined this with the last chapter, but another chapter won't hurt. Sorry guys, the chapter's sexless, but there's a tiny UST scene in here. Enjoy, critique, rip me apart. I miss hearing from people. Now, to work...

Chapter Ten: Unforeseen

“I’m so sorry, Nara,” Jesse stammered as the door slid shut behind them.
            Naranarti glanced at her. He expected her “sorry” to be more sympathetic, but her tears told him she was being apologetic. “Don’t be,” he said. His voice was calmer than before. “I’m not angry with you…I’m just angry in general.”
            “Sometimes it’s hard to tell,” Jesse replied. She was wavering in her stance. The pain in her wrist had not subsided. “I’m gonna sit down…” She collapsed into a sitting position with her legs crossed.
            “[Where the hell is Denarde,]” Yari’mso hissed as she looked at the door.
            “[When I heard the commotion down the hall,]” Hy’kgrel admitted shamefully to Naranarti. “[I knew then it must have been Jess’si’deinz knocking at my door. I should have at least checked if it was her. Forgive me.]”
            Naranarti was about to speak, but Jesse spoke first.
            “I shouldn’t have left the suite. It was stupid of me, and I’m sorry for that.”
            Naranarti shook his head. “Granted, leaving wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done, but it’s nothing to apologize for; not when considering earlier events and conversations. Would you like to hear something ironic?” Naranarti sat on the floor in front of her. “I was just in a meeting about how you should be allowed to wonder the halls and explore the ship.”
            “You’re shitting me.”
            “We came to an agreement that you should be allowed to explore so long as there were boundaries and you had an escort—of my choosing. The argument against this being allowed was that I would have to consider being more strict with the Clan…I suspect that was…uh, deiten’kwe… in a manner.”
            “What was that?” Jesse wasn’t paying attention to the translator.
            “Foreshadowing,” Yari’mso chirped in fairly decent English.
            Naranarti continued. “As Denarde, Yari’mso and I went to meet with S’esutuhn, Gu’yete walked out of the Parliament Hall… I have no doubt S’esutuhn put him up to assaulting you. Of course, I don’t think either of them expected you to be in the halls so soon…I really don’t think they expected me to kill him.”
            “[I don’t think they expected Jess’si’deinz to tear his face up,]” Yeyin murmured. He had been sitting so quietly on the couch, the others had nearly forgotten they had shoved him in the suite with them. When he realized all eyes were on him, he added another thought. “[Wouldn’t that mean Jess’si’deinz could walk freely among us? Gu’yete was a Hunter. She hurt him; that gives her status…right?]”
            “[It wouldn’t be safe to put it that way,]” Hy’kgrel answered. “[It would open her up to challenges. I think it would be better we take the ‘Naranarti’s-guest-Naranarti’s-equal’ approach. They may not have to like her, but they have to respect her. Not like most won’t now, considering that, yes, she did tear his face the fuck up.]” Hy’kgrel laughed.
            Denarde and Mhrende came into the suite. Very swiftly, Denarde took up Jesse’s broken wrist and injected her with a familiar blue liquid. Before Jesse could protest, the pain amplified and burned.
            “God-DAMN-IT!!! FUCKING COCKSUCKERS!!!” Jesse screamed and slammed her good fist into the metal floor in a pain-bearing punch. “FUCKING SHIT! OH MY FUCKING FUCK! FUCK!!!”
            “[Dammit, Denarde, you couldn’t warn her!?]” Naranarti hissed.
            “[I was afraid she would have run from me,]” he replied with a shrug. “[I get that a lot anyways.]”
            “Fucking bastard,” Jesse said between heavy breaths. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t cleave your balls off with a butter-knife.”
            “[Wow,]” Denarde’s eyes widened. “[I get threats every time I give the injections, but that one’s creative.]” He motioned for Mhrende to hand him the splint and cautiously applied it to her wrist as she glared at him. “[How about because I’m healing your wrist?]”
            “Last time, a splint worked just fine,” Jesse grumbled. She had to admit, now her wrist didn’t hurt some much. She also wondered why there wasn’t a bad reaction like from her bullet wound on Naranarti’s ship. Was the “blood medicine” already having an effect on her? She didn’t want to ask Denarde in front of the others, but when she looked up at his face she saw he was staring from her to her wrist as though waiting for something similar to happen.
            “[I don’t know the circumstances of ‘last time,’ but that kind of break needs extra attention to heal properly. At least, now we know the injections are safe for you.]”
            “[There was a question of that?]” Hy’kgrel cocked his head to the side confused.
            “[Sort of,]” Naranarti replied quickly. “[She couldn’t use it on bullet wounds, it would seem.]”
            Nice save, Jesse thought.
            Yeyin continued to look confused, however. “[What’s a] butrer-niff?”

*****

“So was it worth his life?”
            S’esutuhn stood in the center of the Parliament Hall. At the sound of the Arbitrator’s voice, she spun around to see him entering the room with a fast and angry stride. She had sent her train away, and she had already dealt with Nanaiyude who felt the need to lecture her in his indirect manner. Now, she needed to deal with her son.
            “Gu’yete’s life. Was it worth your plan failing miserably?” Naranarti changed his path and started to circle her.
            S’esutuhn didn’t like the challenge. She hissed at him. “What are you insinuating?!”
            Naranarti continued circling her. It was an old trick he learned from an older Arbitrator before they had all been killed. One thing Yautja hated was being treated like prey. They could lose their nerve when someone of high status—say an Arbitrator—did it. He would make her crumble. “I’m accusing you of being a liar and a coward. You were making a play to scare Jess’si’deinz back into hiding. Before, you had no problem with her being here. As she gets closer to the Clan ship, you start getting a change of heart—why?”
            “I don’t have to be friends with prey!”
            “That’s not what I asked. What compels you to be so conniving?”
            “I’m not conniving!” S’esutuhn was getting on her defenses. She looked as though she would take a sharp swipe at him if he came too close.
            This was what Naranarti intended. “Commanding a Hunter to attack your enemy for you—sounds like a selfish scheme. What are you so threatened by?”
            “I have nothing to be concerned about—”
            “Then WHY?!” Naranarti interrupted. He purposely made himself sound angry, though he was actually. He wanted her to try and take the advantage, try to regain control of the situation. It doesn’t count when someone is allowing you to do so, though.
            “Because she is a danger!” S’esutuhn finally answered plainly. “Her mere presence has been a disruption! You have changed—”
            “In what way? Wasn’t it you who made a comment about the lack of apathy? Isn’t that something to be desired?”
            She didn’t answer. She straightened her stance.
            “You don’t like how I challenge your decisions. I didn’t do that before…now, though,” he laughed. “I used to wonder what all the whispers between the Leaders were about: ‘She only chose him because she can control him’… Now, I understand what they were insinuating.”
            S’esutuhn collected her thoughts. “Your Ooman is a danger because she compromises our secrecy. If her people retrieved her—”
            “They already did, and she kept our secret,” Naranarti shook his head in disdain. He continued to circle her, but pretended to not pay attention to her, staring off as if in his own thoughts. “You know this; what else about her bothers you?”
            “I don’t have to put up with this,” S’esutuhn started to walk away. She made the mistake of removing her gaze.
            There! Naranarti launched forward. Ducking low, he tripped S’esutuhn onto her back. She screeched as she landed on the metal floor. “Yes, you do! Arbitrators, male and female, outrank Matrons. You knew that when you chose me. You should have considered it.”
            S’esutuhn slashed at him as she scrambled to her feet. Naranarti, however, moved in closer avoiding her attack. He head-butted her on the bridge between her eyes. She managed to slice his side with her talons before her vision failed from the blow.
            “You have a history of making bad decisions, mother,” his tone was condescending. “Are you so certain she…” Naranarti’s voice trailed off. He stepped back from S’esutuhn, eyeing her with great suspicion. “Why so shady lately?”
            “What?” She hissed in pain and anger.
            “I have the right to kill you for avoiding my interrogation. You know this, as well, yet you still choose to avoid the real answer. Jess’si’deinz is only part of the issue.”
            S’esutuhn looked up at Naranarti. “It was Sibyl. She told me she had a vision about your Ooman. That’s why I believe she’s a danger. I didn’t say anything because the last time I listened to her... I made a mistake. I made a mistake, again… Are you through with me?”
            Naranarti’s gaze didn’t change. He barely saw it, a small give away in her eyes.
            Fear.
            “Control yourself next time,” Naranarti said as he was leaving the Parliament Hall. “Jess’si’deinz is no ordinary Ooman to me. She’s not a pet, she’s not a slave, she’s not prey.” The door slid shut behind him.
            S’esutuhn rolled onto her side. She pulled a fist to her chest, an insecurity reflex. He couldn’t possibly suspect… But he does.
            “C’jit!”

*****

Yari’smo was lying on her stomach staring at a sleeping Jess’si’deinz, her mandibles resting under her chin and her feet kicking in the air.
            “Does she sleep so often?”
            Naranarti glanced up at her. The slash marks had already started to heal, but they weren’t too deep to begin with. He had found a decorative waist-wrap to hide the scratches in case Jess’si woke up. At the moment, he was putting Gu’yete’s mandible through a boiler to remove the flesh. He didn’t know what to do with the small trophy afterwards, though. He considered making a necklace of it, but he was not very good at making jewelry. That was more of Hy’kgrel’s mastery.
            “I thought Oomans only slept every third of a cycle. Has it been that long already?”
            “No,” he replied. “I’m certain she’s just tired from the ordeal. Oomans cope differently. Jess’si’deinz likes to sleep to relax…” He stared off with a confused look. “Or does she sleep because she’s relaxed?” He shrugged it off. “Either way, she’ll be comatose for the next quarter of a cycle. If I’m lucky, she’ll sleep through while I sleep.”
            “Why?”
            “We like sharing a bed together.”
            “That’s precious. Like children piling to nap.”
            Naranarti couldn’t help but trill. “The sentiment is the same, I guess.”
            “She reminds me of Mhrende…if he were a female Ooman, of course.”
            The comment caught him off guard. It wasn’t the first time it had been said, but the meaning seemed different. Females were of a stranger nature than males, but Naranarti was perceptive enough to understand Yari’mso’s way of thinking. She may be a very unstable and dangerous female because of her hormonal dysfunctions, but she was also very empathetic.
            And lonely.
            “Does she have a mother?”
            Naranarti’s assumptions were right. He’d have to tread carefully through these waters. Honesty, though, was not out of the question. “She did. Her parents died when she was young. She mentioned having an estranged twin, possibly, though her family never mentioned it. Do Oomans make ‘the choice’ like Yautja?”
            Yari’mso glanced at him. “Not from her region. There was one region that used to kill females as they were born—isn’t that fucked up?! I don’t recall any of group of Oomans ever having to make the Choice, though.”
            The Choice was commonly practiced among female Yautja who gave birth to identical twins. They would choose one of the infants to keep. The other was killed. Some sympathetic mothers would attempt to save both of their children, but their efforts were usually in vain. Same-sex twins would grow competing over everything. Even when things were given equally to them both, they would fight for each other’s share. If the mother was lucky, one would survive to fight. Most often, they killed each other. Fraternal twins of the opposite sex generally did not undergo the same competitive nature because females and males were raised so differently.
            “I highly doubt Oomans commonly practice the Choice,” Yari’mso continued. “Her twin probably died at birth…Or what Oomans do commonly practice is giving away their children to other Clans and Tribes.”
            “I know. Yautja do that, too.”
            Yari’mso looked back over to Jess’si’deinz. “We do… How old is she?”
            “Slightly older than me.”
            “Oh.” There was disappointment in her voice. “So she would have no use of parents, now, I suppose.”
            Naranarti couldn’t help but sympathize with Yari’mso. “Ooman families are tightly knit, though. If her parents were alive, I don’t think she would have come back with me, at least without heavy hesitation. She never spoke of them in vain or with hatred. Definitely didn’t have the same relationship I do with my mother…”
            “So,” Yari’mso twisted over onto her side and propped herself up with an arm to speak directly at Naranarti. “Hypothetically, if someone became sort of a surrogate mother for her, she would still have some reliance on them? Hypothetically.”
            Naranarti had to think on this. “Not necessarily ‘reliant,’ but maybe she would be closer to the surrogate mother than others.” He looked at her. Every fiber of his judgment told him to be blatant with her at this point. Hopefully, it wouldn’t backfire. “Yari’mso, all the other females think you’re crazy because you can’t have any more children. I understand that it’s important to a female to have children, so I can see how it could drive a female a bit crazy to no longer have any. Even with having one, it couldn’t be satisfying no matter what you told yourself.
            “Coming on too strongly could chase her off, make her feel uncomfortable. Maybe you should allow her to get closer to you on her own. She’s an adult. Let her adopt you as her surrogate mother. Personally, I want her to have more friends here, and a female friend is the best she could get. I would hate for you to spook her or something with your craziness.”
            He could have been more delicate with his last statement, but he realized little too late.
            Yari’mso shrugged. “That’s a good point… but I’m not that crazy, am I?”
            “You frighten people.”
            “Doesn’t mean I’m crazy, though.”

*****

A female sat alone in a bubbling tub of the public bath house. She was yellow skinned with muddy brown spots running along her contours. Her hair was short and black. One eye was a bright yellow, while the other was a murky green. In that eye, she was blind. It was late, and other Yautja had already bathed and left to their quarters for rest. It wasn’t that she preferred to be alone, but she knew others preferred to avoid her. It wasn’t because she was blind, but because of what she was. Meili, Meta-Yautja, were not always welcome among their sister-race, but she had connections and was given refuge with the Neyen’ku Clan.
            They only knew her as Agajy’hutl, Sibyl. She wouldn’t give them her real name in fear of her own shame. It was her mother’s fault, she always told herself. Her blindness was a new shame, however. Sibyl believed she was partially blind because she betrayed Paya by pretending to be a soothsayer. Her entire family and Clan consisted of them; why wasn’t she? After going blind, she was finally able to foresee events. Unfortunately, each event seemed to be fateful and unchangeable no matter what anyone attempted to do. She had hoped it wasn’t the case, especially when telling S’esutuhn her visions and looking forward upon request as best she could. Everything was so vague and clouded, though.
            “Sibyl,” a voice broke her train of thought. She looked up to see Naranarti standing on the other side of the tub. “I am aware of how unorthodox this is, but do you mind if I join you for a moment? I wish to ask you something.”
            “That’s fine,” she answered. Naranarti was the last connection she had to her old Clan. He was the only one there who knew her real name and her real past. He was honorable enough to keep it to himself. They were mutual friends with Seddar, though he and his brother lived among the L’uxa Clan instead. Seddar, too, kept the incident to himself; considering it was his Clan that was brought to ruin, he was being very generous.
            Naranarti removed his lower wrap and slid into the tub across from her. In the back of his mind, he fancied that Jesse would be upset if she knew he was bathing with another female. Sibyl wasn’t unattractive for a Meili. She was smaller in physique and not as muscular as the other females. There were tensions, but they were one way. The awkwardness was required, however. Sibyl was weak minded, though she could foresee the future, cryptic as it was. She broke down under pressure and not in the way Naranarti wished of those he interrogated. If she were to have a panic attack, then she could very well have a seizure, a side-effect of her blindness. Sitting with her just as vulnerable would give her comfort, and she would stay clear-headed enough to answer him. On a plus-side, she had no reason to ever lie to him, if she even could lie considering her beliefs; it was just her emotional anxiety he was concerned about.
            “What is it you need of me…though after this evening’s events, I think I have an idea…” she said quietly.
            “It does have a little to do with that. I bashed S’esutuhn’s head in, and your name finally came up,” he said crudely. “Has she been asking things of you, or have you been getting visions on your own concerning my female-friend, Jess’si’deinz?”
            Sibyl smiled. “Call her what she is, Naranarti. She’s your mate. Don’t be so shy of that. And the answer is yes… to both, that is.”
            “What have they been of, if you don’t mind me asking?”
            “I don’t mind recalling,” Sibyl straightened her back exposing her breasts fully. They were fuller than most, but not as much as Yari’mso or Jess’si’deinz. Naranarti had to wonder if she had done it on purpose. “S’esutuhn asked me what I was thinking about one day while the other females were gossiping. I told her I had a vision I was contemplating over—of Jess’si’deinz and you…You were both sitting at the top of a canyon. You looked so satisfied with life. Your mother didn’t really like hearing this. She specifically asked later to meditate on how Jess’si’deinz would affect her, her status, her life, that sort of thing. I have to admit, I can’t blame your mother for becoming disturbed…I regret telling her, but I can’t lie. You know I can’t lie.”
            “I know, and I understand. It’s been awhile, though; you should really forgive yourself. Especially, if you believe your visions are fate, like you said,” Naranarti ringed out the lower-half of his dreads. They were oily, and he might as well bathe a bit while there. “Anyway, what happened in the vision?”
            “S’esutuhn was in an arena. She was dying, her heart had been nailed to a wall—it was strange and symbolic. Standing over her was a small, pale, speckled female with red hair. The female, though was wearing Matron armor and a Matron’s ceremonial crown. The female took the mask off, but it was Jess’si’deinz underneath. Her eyes were different, though, like they were Yautja. Fluid was running from the corners of her mouth, too; green like Yautja thwei.”
            Naranarti suddenly felt uncomfortable at the mention of the blood. Was she seeing the “blood-medicine” practice? Maybe she didn’t interpret it as such, though. He had to steer her away from the idea just in case. “The sight would make her seem a dangerous predator, would it not?”
            “That was my thought…I didn’t want to say it, but I knew it wouldn’t matter if I did or not, knowing your mother,” she said in a much more hushed whisper (though she always spoke quietly).
            Uh oh.
            “I think your mate is only a danger to S’esutuhn. She is most definitely not a threat to the Clan. If my visions are so fateful, then I think she’s a blessing to the Clan.”
            “What?” Naranarti had trouble fathoming it, though a wonderful thought it was. He wanted nothing more than for Jess’si to be accepted, but such grandeur was not expected.
            “I had another vision that showed the two of you together, she with the Matron’s crown, the Clan large and prosperous on a planet rich and warm…it was a nice vision.” Inwardly, she felt saddened by that particular vision. It wasn’t that Naranarti was with the little Ooman female. It was because, Sibyl couldn’t sense her own presence within it. It was as though, the vision occurred beyond her lifetime.
            Naranarti sat quiet and thoughtful. It was much to take in, and he couldn’t help but get slight chills about the visions. He wondered if, later he could request Sibyl take consideration to Jess’si’s dreams. She was still complaining about them—they were still cryptic and unsettling more so than any other nightmare she had ever had. He needed to stay focused on his current objective, though.
            “There have been more visions…” She stopped and looked away. “I don’t want to talk about them. They have nothing to do with your mate.”
            “Who do they involve, then?” Naranarti was getting closer to satisfying a suspicion he had since his talk with S’esutuhn.
            Sibyl didn’t answer or look back up at him.
            “Were their visions involving my father? What about his poisoning?”
            Sibyl’s scent changed. She was getting nervous.
            “Was he a threat to S’esutuhn, too?”
            She started to shift. She sank low putting the water above her chest.
            Naranarti moved forward and, grabbing her by the shoulders, lifted her from the water. “Goddamnit, Dando, answer me! Did S’esutuhn attempt to kill my father?!”
            She was about to have an anxiety attack, but the sound of her real name put her concentration in check. “It…it wasn’t like that…She wanted to know if he would outlive her…I just answered, yes. I couldn’t tell her the actual vision. It was disturbing. Seddar was sharing the vision with me, strangely. The dark-god was involved…”
            Naranarti dropped her back into the water. “I don’t suppose you could see past events.”
            “No… She seemed agitated when she asked, like she was angry with him… or fed up. She seemed enraged when I told her he would see all of our deaths before he met his own. You don’t think she… She wouldn’t…”
            Their eyes met, and neither of them could avoid the truth.
            “Oh, my…” Sibyl looked off into the water. “What have I done?”
            “It’s not as bad as it seems. This is more for closure than anything at this point,” Naranarti sat back down into the water. He rubbed his temple of the tension. The two sat in silence for a period of time until Naranarti caught a scent emanating from her. He avoided her gaze and grabbed his wrap as he stood up. “I should go,” he said softly.
            “I—I have to tell you,” Sibyl stammered. She moved to his side of the tub before he could step out. She reached up and touched his side just behind where S’esutuhn clawed him. “I’m jealous of her. Of your Ooman mate.”
            Naranarti looked at his old friend. He had known Sibyl—Dando’s feelings for a very long time. Similarly to Oomans, Meta-Yautja found deep emotional connections with their mates at times. It was the culture. Meili generally thought themselves “better” than the basic run-of-the-mill Yautja, and thusly, they attempted to fight primal natures (Seddar always said mating-seasons were dull on his Home-Clan ship; the L’uxa Clan was much more “lively”). Dando refused other males on board because she pined for Naranarti. Though, she was not the only one he rejected, the other females would move on to a different male to suit their needs. Dando quietly moves back into the shadows every season after Naranarti walks away from her.
            She reached up to touch his chest, but he pulled away and stepped out of the tub.
            “I’m sorry, Si—Dando,” he said. “You couldn’t change him, and I’m not going to be his replacement.”
            “You never were,” she replied clutching the side of the tub with her talons.
            “And that never mattered.”

*****

“I’m really not surprised,” Nanaiyude said tiredly. “I had considered it, but I gave her honor the benefit of the doubt.”
            “I thought you should know,” Naranarti said standing against the doorframe of his father’s bedroom. He rubbed his foot over a small pool of water. He had not dried off completely, and his hair was still dripping.
            “I appreciate it.” Nanaiyude replied, though it was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic. “So what are you going to do? Kill her? Have her exiled? Demote her to an Eta?”
            “All very tempting, but Sibyl told me something else that was very interesting. I sort of want to see how it plays out, if you don’t mind, of course.”
            “I’m over it, so do what you want. She didn’t have the courage to challenge me head-on, so she poisoned me. Look what that got her: a pissed off son, an Ooman who by your law ranks higher than she, and I’m still alive. Let her wallow in that as punishment,” Nanaiyude trilled. He lied back down in his bed. “So what was it Sibyl said?”
            “She says Jess’si will be the one to overthrow her.”
            Nanaiyude looked back up at him. “Oh, really?” He looked off to the side, then back at him. “If that’s the case. then I have a request. Of course, this would be for when she’s finally comfortable with leaving your suite once again…”
            “I’m listening,” Naranarti replied crossing his arms.
            “Let me teach her to fight,” Nanaiyude said. Before Naranarti could protest, he continued. “She already has a knack for doing damage: the Hish, Gu’yete… Yekita’s pride. With training, you wouldn’t have to worry about her. Keep in mind, you still have duties to attend that include leaving the Clan ship; for that, she is safer to stay behind, safest if she can properly break a male’s jaw for disrespecting her.”
            Naranarti sighed and grumbled. The idea seemed tempting in theory. Being a student of Nanaiyude, however, meant there would be more broken wrists in her future. Of all the instructors, there were three who were the best: Nanaiyude, Venyude and himself. Venyude had yet to meet Jess’si, and with his mannerisms—or lack thereof---Naranarti was unsure if the two would get along. When he truly thought about it, he wasn’t sure if he could trust himself to be thorough and unbiased towards her. And Nanaiyude was as much of a perfectionist as he was. You don’t get to go home—you either succeed or die.
            “Be easy with her at first,” Naranarti commanded. “Build her up to taking the damage. She’s not a Yautja. She’s also a bit brittle.”
            “That won’t be for long,” Nanaiyude shook a finger at his son. “I’m an old fool, but I’m not an idiot, and I know the scent of my son’s blood.”
            Naranarti’s face started to burn.
            “I, personally, commend you, but it doesn’t mean everyone else will. She’ll be with us for a long time, if you’re plan is successful. She’ll also be made of tougher stuff. Hand her off to me; and don’t worry, I won’t let her become rough around the edges. I’m sure you’d prefer to keep your Jess’si quaint and soft.” He laughed. “Now, I have one more request.”
            “Yes?”
            “Let me go back to sleep.”
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The Fighting Irish: Catalyst and the Dtai'kai'rish