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All Good Things Come to Those Who Wait	By : torturequeen06 Category: M through R > Predator Views: 13303 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Predator or anything associated with it. I don't make money off of this and never would ask for any. This is simply for enjoyment.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
And here's the new chapter. I had this done for a while and just kind of forgot about it. Sorry about that. Been a little crazy on my end. Currently trying to write the next chapter. Hoping to have it done eventually. Well, enjoy!
*** *** ***
It had been all too easy to lure Churo into the woods, and even easier to sneak up behind her and tranq her. Hamilton had always known his sister was defenseless, but he hadn’t believed it was that bad. He hadn’t even been quiet when he got behind her, trying to be quick about it, and she still didn’t turn even when sticks snapped under his feet. Looking down at her as he carried her to B’rasch’s ship, he was all too happy that he had decided to save her. No one that trusting and kind deserved to be slaughtered. The death she deserved was of old age, in a warm bed, surrounded by dozens of children and grandchildren. Of course, no one hardly ever died in the manner they should, but at least he got her out of that place and closer to the death he envisioned for her. She was never going to forgive him for leaving their mother and brother to die, but that was something he was willing to accept, as Monro had. Pretending he knew nothing of the attack had crossed his mind more than once, but it never stuck. No matter how much disgust he was going to face, Hamilton would tell her the truth. She deserved to know.
Once they made it to the ship, Hamilton passed his sister to Vegas, who had been practically running to keep up with him and was slightly (just slightly) out of breath. For some reason, Hamilton had found it difficult to give Churo up, but in the end, he did. Not wanting to dwell on it, he set his mind on other things, like making sure Mark had made it with Ashley and Rochelle. It had been very dangerous to move Ashley in the condition he was in, but it had to be done. There was no way Jack would even consider leaving the planet without knowing her brother was safe. Rochelle was pregnant and Ashley’s fiancee, so she had to come by default, though Hamilton was sure that Jack would have had a fit if the woman had been left behind (not that he ever would have). The Nameless wouldn’t kill her, but she would be psychologically scarred for the rest of her life after witnessing the horrors that were about to happen. Churo and Rochelle were a lot alike in aspects of kindness. Knowing that made Hamilton wonder why she had chosen Ashley. He wasn’t exactly the best man around, though that would have been the pot calling the kettle black.
“I need to focus on what I’m doing,” Hamilton berated himself a little louder than he had intended.
“What?!” Vegas shouted thinking Hamilton was speaking to him. He was more than a tad irritated with the man and it showed in his tone. Running had always been something that he hated to do and he had just jogged a good fifteen minutes all because the asshole was in a hurry. Okay, he understood the reason, but that doesn't mean he had to be happy about it.
“Talking to myself!” Vegas just nodded, turned away and walked off, muttering incoherently to himself, heading to the room Hamilton had shown him. Hamilton was sure he heard "asshole" and "stupid mother fucker" in the man's ramblings. It almost brought a smile to his lips.
Hamilton decided to head to the medical bay. It was where they, him and B’rasch, had shown Mark to go with Ashley. He had hoped that they had gotten out without problem and were currently there. If not, he might have to go and retrieve them. The thought left Hamilton suddenly tired. He didn’t want to deal with this anymore. He just wanted to be done with it and as far away from this planet as possible and the memories that had gone with it. Even the ones of his love; especially the ones of his love. Too long had he been dwelling on the past. He needed to move on and the only way that was going to happen was to forget about her, as was the Arathian way. Once you were dead, you no longer existed. Arathians were not a people that liked to live in the past. They only wanted to move forward. They lived too long to stay in the past.
A few minutes, Hamilton arrived at the empty of life medical bay. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath. Great. They still had to wait for Mark. B’rasch's older brother had been anxious to leave since the moment he had found out his little brother was alive, and seethed when he learned that he had to wait. Both Hamilton and B’rasch were equally as eager to leave, though B’rasch was for both Jack and his little brother and Hamilton was just Jack. If the Nameless finish their attack before they got there, there was no telling what they would do with Jack; the yautja would be fine (the Nameless would just release him having no desire to start a war). The Nameless wanted Jack alive. Hamilton was sure it had nothing to do with the kindness in their hearts. That, also, left the question as to why they wanted him alive as well. The two went hand-in-hand, but he couldn’t figure out how. Maybe he could get the information out of a Nameless, though he doubted it. They were well-known for their resilience and their tight lips. It would be worth a try though. The one he had spoken to in the woods had been a little loose-lipped, though the information could have been deemed necessary for him to have.
There was a series of noises from behind him and he knew Mark had finally made it, albeit with more people than he should of had. From what he could hear, there were at least ten people walking, and three being carried (dragged) between two people. Hamilton should have known that Mark wasn’t going to leave his men behind, but, for some reason, he hadn’t thought about it. At least the ship was large enough to handle that many people without a problem. And it wasn’t like the men were going to stay with them. Mar’tak would probably leave them in the middle of the jungle. Hamilton would have to get B’rasch to talk to his older brother into leaving the men somewhere a little more reasonable. At least somewhere in the States. That way they could get home in one piece, though they were going to have a lot to explain to the government. They were all legally dead, after all.
Seconds later and Mark’s back came into sight. He was speaking loudly to someone, but Hamilton could not say to who. Limp arms flopped on either side of his waist in time of each step he took. Hamilton didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know that those arms belonged to Ashley. Since he didn’t see legs dragging on the ground, there was someone helping him carry the unconscious man. It had to be someone smaller since Hamilton couldn’t see a bit of them from behind Mark. He just hoped it wasn’t Rochelle. Mark was a dick, but Hamilton doubted he was that much of a dick. Though he had been known to be wrong before. Humans always had a way to blindside him when it came to aspects of their personality, especially when he was positive he knew the person very well.
As it turned out, Mark was not that big of a dick. Rochelle came into view several seconds after Mark did. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, but other than that, she seemed to be holding it together just fine. If she hadn’t been pregnant, Hamilton was sure she wouldn't have been crying. She reminded him a bit of Jack. Both were strong and determined women, though Jack was a tad less reserved than Rochelle. Some people would consider Rochelle the “quiet type.” Of course, it was a well known fact that the quiet ones were the ones that had the wild streak in them.
The rest of the group made their appearance, and Hamilton knew the massacre had started. Most of them had blood on them, varying from a little spec to damn-near covering their entire bodies. Some of the blood was their own, some of it belonged to someone else, but from the defeated and frightened expressions on their faces, none of it was the enemies. Must have been very hard for them, watching people that had helped them being slaughtered and not being able to do a damn thing about it except run. From the state of things, some of them had fought. It hadn’t done them much good, but they had put up a valiant effort that got a majority of them killed. But they fought nonetheless. That was something that Hamilton admired about humans. They fought no matter the odds and rarely just gave up. Humans were very resilient creatures. Knowing he was half-human made him a little proud, though there were some things humans did he wasn’t very proud of, but it was the same could be said of his mother’s people as well.
He shook his head. It wasn’t time to think of such things. At the moment, he needed to act mad at Mark. “What the hell is all of this?!” he yelled at the man’s back. Mark didn’t answer and kept shuffling backwards toward Hamilton. “I told you to only grab Ashley and Rochelle!”
Finally, Mark reached the medical bay and Hamilton got to see that Anthony was the other person carrying Ashley. Mark kept his mouth shut until Ashley was placed on the table/bed/thing. Then, he immediately whirled to face Hamilton, his eyes wild. “You told me none of my men would get hurt.” It wasn’t shouted as would have been expected, but calmly. So calmly, Hamilton worried about the man’s sanity.
“That’s what I was told.” He had, also, been told that the Nameless did get a little overzealous and they would protect themselves if they were attacked, but he had decided to keep that to himself. He couldn’t say why he had stayed silent on that part, but he had, and it had cost a lot of lives. That was something he was going to have to live with. A burden he would never share.
Mark wanted to hit the man facing him but leashed that urge with what little restraint he had left. “Well, they lied. These,” he swept his hand in the general direction he thought his men were in, “are what’s left of my men.” And what a sorry lot they were. They had all managed to pile in the decently sized room, and not a single one was standing. All of them were tired, in pain, and wanted nothing more than to forget what had happened. A couple of them, those that had been dragged, were unconscious or on the verge of being so.
More had survived than Hamilton had believed were going to. That thought made him stop. Maybe a small part of him had wanted the men to die. A lot of those men were people he knew, some he even considered friends. Why would he want them dead? Something is seriously fucked in my head. Getting off the planet might be the best idea, for him and the rest of the world. “Take care of your men,” he said a little guarded. He needed to get away from these people as soon as he could. “We’re leaving.” With that he headed out of the room.
Mark started to shout something after him, but Hamilton just tuned him out. He was sure it wasn’t something all that pleasant or anything he wanted to hear at the moment. This whole business was starting to drag him down, and change his mood (not that it had been cheery to begin with). The sooner they got Jack and left, the better. Hopefully, the mess the Nameless left at the Arathian compound wouldn’t be so bad. At the moment, he wasn’t sure his psyche could handle what he was about to walk into.
Soon, he reached the cockpit. B’rasch glance up at him expectantly. “There are more than expected, but we’re ready to go.”
The yautja nodded his hand and relayed the message to his brother who was piloting the ship. There was a short argument between the two, most likely due to the extra cargo, but in the end, Mar’tak gave up; Mar'tak always gave in to his little brothers. Hamilton watched as his fingers flew across the pad hitting a series of them so fast Hamilton could not see which ones they were. There was a rumble under his feet and then the sense of his stomach dropping. The movements were smooth but he still worried that Ashley could have somehow gotten hurt because of it. Jack would kill him if Ashley got anymore injured than he already was, not to mention the guy was barely holding onto life as it was. Anything minute could tilt the scale and bring him closer to the brink of death.
From what B’rasch had told Hamilton, Mar’tak was an excellent pilot. There was no cause for worry. All he had to do was sit back and wait for them to arrive at the Arathian complex. Just a couple of hours and we’ll be there, he told himself, sitting back in one of the empty seats. He leaned his head back and sighed. Just a couple more hours.
*** *** ***
The screams of his people filtered into the room. Jokles ignored them and stood in the shadows, still watching over Jack. He knew what was happening beyond the door. The Arathians were being slaughtered. They had been for a good twenty minutes now. There was nothing he could do about it and he was not even going to attempt to. His masterpiece was more important than they were. Besides, in the next ten minutes (maybe sooner) the remaining Black Deaths were going to escape. Once that happened, it was over for everyone. Well, for everyone aside from him and Jack. The Black Deaths could not get in the room and even if they could, they still would not attack.
Before he had decided to work on humans, Jokles had been experimenting with the Black Deaths. They were such fascinating creatures. How they could communicate without speech and through the entire hive. They thought of nothing but protecting their queen, the continuations of their species and food. Nothing but instincts wrapped in a hard body with acid for blood. Instincts with brains. Black Deaths had proved intelligence beyond what was believed capable of them. They were potentially the deadliest creatures in the known universe and he, the genius he was, had figured out a way to control them.
Honestly, he had no idea how he had done it, it had been a complete accident. An accident that he did not mind nor tell his superiors about. There had been no need for them to know. If they had, especially the Council, they would have used him. Used him to strike fear into the humans and the rest of the universe. All he wanted to do was perfect things, as he had done with Jack. War, death, and pain, he was not interested in such things. The lab was where he belonged and where he would stay.
As soon as a majority of the Arathians were dead, including the Nameless, he and Jack would make their escape. He would get her out of the stasis chamber and carry her, she would be too weak to walk (or fight back), to his ship that he had hidden and they would leave the planet behind and find somewhere else to live. Maybe somewhere with a lot of beings so he could continue his pursuit of creating perfection. That would be the life, moving from planet to planet, leaving absolute perfection in his wake. Better yet, he could take them all with him, move to a remote planet and live the rest of his days with his creations. Possibly make an entirely new race. Now that would be the life.
There was a sensation at the back of his head that he could only describe as someone scratching an itch in his brain. It felt so good it sent his entire body into shivers, and his flesh raised with bumps. The Black Deaths had finally managed to escape. It had taken them less time than he had anticipated, showing more of their intelligence. There was a paternal sense of pride that filled him. Jokles sent them his feelings and then gave them to order to kill everything in their path. There was a sense of something (joy perhaps?) from them as they set about to do their task. Just to be sure he enforced in their heads to stay inside the compound. They were to never leave. Jokles intent was to destroy the building after Jack and him were gone, though the Black Deaths did not need to know that. There might be an attempted rebellion if they did, and there was little time to deal with such petty things.
The door opened with a swoosh and Jokles eyes shifted to it. In its wake stood a female. Just by the shape alone he knew it was the female Councilman. Nothing good would come of her being there. Silently, he moved to a spot with more of an advantage. He needed to be able to jump out and take care of the woman if she attempted to harm Jack, and the spot he had first chosen was just a little too far away. Though, from the looks of the deep cuts and gashes that were bleeding profusely, she did not have much longer in this world.
“You,” the female sputtered, spittle and blood coming from her mouth, “this is all your fault, you bitch!” The Councilman had made it to the chamber Jack was resting in, and spit blood on the glass. “They are here because of you.”
That was not true. Jokles knew the Nameless were there because the Arathians on Earth were defects. The scourge of the Arathian race, and they were tarnishing the respectability of the original Council. Before he had left Arathia the Council had warned him that one day, they would wipe out the traitors and to be prepared for it since he had left out of curiosity and had not been forced out as the others had- being the greatest scientist the race had produced helped a bit as well. He had agreed with the original Council that he would sneak out before the attack, but he could not bring himself to leave Jack. It would be like a doting father leaving his daughter behind.
The woman inhaled sharply, and there was some gargling. It brought a smile to Jokles lips. Her lungs were punctured, most likely due to broken ribs. She was drowning in her own blood. Less than she deserved for attempting to murder Jack, but it was good enough. Only for the fact that while her blood was filling her lungs, her body was still trying to heal, causing her pain when it was punctured over and over again. And he got to watch her suffer, making him even more pleased.
“I-” she was cut off by a bout of wet coughing that nearly brought her to her knees. “I should kill you,” she finished after recovering, if recover was the correct word. Her head bobbed up and down in her own agreement with the statement resembling a buoy in a harbor. “I will kill you.” A shaky hand reached for the control pad for the chamber. After the Councilman opened the chamber, Jack would be vulnerable to an attack. She would not be able to defend herself. It was up to Jokles to protect her!
As the woman’s hand crept closer to the pad, Jokles heart started to thump harder and harder in his chest. Soon, it felt as if a hammer was beating against his rib cage. There was a white noise sound in his ears, deafening him. His breath was so quick he was on the verge of hyperventilation. If he did not stop the female, Jack would be killed. He had to stop her, but he had lost the ability to move his body. No, no, no, no! he mentally screamed at himself, not being able to even form words. This always happened, frozen in a moment when he needed most to move.
When he lost all hope of saving Jack, there was a hiss from above. The female’s eyes moved upward with horror in them, the button her finger on forgotten. A Black Death hung above her, seemingly gazing at her. A sense of relief washed over him as the creature released its hold on the ceiling and slammed into the female full force, tearing into the flesh of her neck with its inner mouth. Finally able to move, he walked to the thing and sent it his praise as well as inquiring if all beings were dead. Never once asking how it had gotten into a room it shouldn't have been able to.
No. There were still a few stragglers. The Nameless were proving to be rather difficult to kill along with Hasinth. Jokles had expected that and just sent the creature away to finish its task. Just a few more minutes and he could take Jack and make his escape. Every one did not have to be dead, just enough that he would not run into people as he carried her to the ship. Jokles could fight, had been taught by his father, but he always froze as he had just done so. Aside from his genius, it had been the reason for him deciding in a career of science. He was just no good in a fight. Maybe if his life had been on the line, it might have been different, but he could not protect nor just fight for no other reason.
After they escaped, that would not matter any longer. Jack knew how to fight and she would be in his possession. She may not agree with it, but he would find someway for her to become agreeable. He did not want to resort to such deviants, but he could not have her try to murder him in his sleep and he could not bring himself to part with her as she would want. He felt to be away from her would possibly make him go insane. Jokles did not want to take a chance when it came to madness, he needed his wits about him.
A strange vibration was felt under his feet. The Black Deaths reported that a ship had landed somewhere very close by. Jokles took a quick glance at Jack, knowing it was her allies. It looked as if he had delayed for far too long, it was past time to leave. Kill them, he ordered his drones before moving to Jack to prepare her for departure. There was a collective hiss of pleasure that resounded in his mind, as his pets went to do his bidding.
*** *** ***
Slowly, B’rasch walked through the jungle, following a few paces behind the male Hamilton. Mar’tak was a few feet to his right, walking just as slow, keeping a cautious eye on their surroundings. At first, Mar’tak had complained that the small male took the lead, but it was short-lived. The male Hamilton was the only one of the three that knew where the Arathian compound was hidden. He was, also, the only one that could find his way once in the compound. From what B’rasch understood, the Arathians had built their home like a maze, as a way to deter intruders from ever leaving the facility. Even those that lived there could get easily lost. If the male Hamilton had not been there with them, B’rasch had no idea what him and his brother would have done. Probably stormed the building and forced someone in there help them, though that would not have been a very effective method.
When the trio reached the entrance, there was a pause. The smell of death was permeating from it. B’rasch knew if it was that bad with the door closed, it was only going to get much worse when it opened. The stalling was the male Hamilton giving them a moment to prepare for the onslaught on their senses. That moment was appreciated, but it was not enough. The horrid smell washed over them live a wave and they nearly drowned in it. The male Hamilton had even took a step back, hand covering his nose and mouth. The smell of blood, bile and shit was so strong it nearly covered an all too familiar smell. Kainde amedha. B’rasch turned and met Mar’tak’s masked face. The rescue mission just got a tad bit harder. If they were lucky, there would not be that many of the creatures. Thinking back on the night of the attack, he doubted there were few. They were just going to have to be that much more cautious. One wrong move and it could send the entire hive on them.
“Fuck!” said the male Hamilton under his breath, catching the tell-tale sign of the scent. He shook his head vigorously before taking a deep breath and stepping into the compound. With one last look at his brother, B’rasch followed.
There was enough horror in the small hallway they walked through to give even the most seasoned of warriors nightmares, and yet, they went deeper and deeper. There were a few spots he did not have to step over a body or a piece of one, and even fewer instances where walls were not splashed entirely in blood.
This was the worst aftermath of an attacked B’rasch had ever witnessed that had not been caused by the kainde amedha. All of the wounds the bodies had sustained were from blades of some sort, and a lot were located in the back (only cowards attacked that way). When they came across the body of a child, B’rasch hoped to come across these “Nameless” as the male Hamilton called them. He would rip the honorless beings limb from limb. Killing young ones warranted nothing but the most painful of deaths.
A flicker of a thought of hunting down all the Nameless and killing them entered his mind, but it was quickly extinguished. There was no time for such pleasure. Jack and his little brother’s lives hung in the balance and he was not about to tip the scale in the wrong direction. Though, if they ran into a few along the way, there was no one who would argue with him killing them. His brother and the male Hamilton might join in even. B’rasch was not too sure of the male Hamilton though. He did not seem upset at seeing the body of a young one mangled in such a way. None of this seemed to affect him though these were his people. B’rasch knew the male was filled with hate and rage directed toward his people, but B’rasch had not believed it was so much that he would look so dispassionately at a dead young one. He had hardly even glanced at it, just kept walking down the corridor, even stepping over the body. It made B’rasch want to strike him.
The feeling was soon lost. B’rasch knew they needed the male at his best so they did not get lost. He could deal with the hitting of the male when their rescue mission was over. Then, he could strike the male as many times as he pleased without having to worry of something taking advantage of their scuffle or neing drawn to it. If they could go with not fighting the kainde amedha that would be a blessing from Paya herself.
Depending on how many there were, fighting the creatures would not be much trouble. It was just time consuming and irritating. With it being in such a tight space and the bodies surrounding them, it would be even more of a hassle, and there was a risk of slipping on blood and losing any advantages they might have had. Now, the male Hamilton’s suggestion of staying together was necessary. They may not be able to move as freely in a group, but there was backup if there was a mishap.
Death was not something that B’rasch feared, no self-respecting yautja did. What he did fear, however, was the death of Jack. The ooman female had managed to make herself a piece of him, a very important piece. If he lost her, he knew he would follow closely behind. He did not know if she felt the same, but it mattered little to him. As long as she stayed by his side all would be well.
They came to the end of the hall and the male Hamilton put his back to the right side and Mar’tak the left so they could check around the corners for any danger. The pair glanced at each other and then, nearly simultaneously they peeked their heads around the corner. Both found their respected hallway clear and stepped out, prepared for an attack. When none happened, the male Hamilton signaled B’rasch to come out.
After he stepped into the hallway, B’rasch glanced from left to right to ensure there was nothing out there ready to pounce. He trusted his brother and the male Hamilton to be competent enough to recognize danger, it just made him feel more comfortable to check himself. The only living things within those stretches of corridors were the three of them. A thought he found rather depressing. Ever since he had laid eyes on the young one, he had been itching for a fight. B’rasch knew he should clear his mind of such thoughts, but he found it a little difficult to do so.
“We need to go this way,” the male Hamilton said quietly, indicating in the direction he was facing. “There’s a long way to go, and I'm sure there is going to be a lot of trouble along the way.” The male looked down at his empty hands. “Let’s hope we can deal with it.” B’rasch knew the last comment was more the male speaking to himself that to the two of them and did not bother translating it to Mar’tak. He did clap the male on the shoulder to assure him that he would be there as well. The male turned and gave a firm nod, a grim look in his eye.
Without a word, the male Hamilton started to head down the bloodied corridor, glancing back and forth when there was a doorway or an intersection, B’rasch and Mar’tak mimicking his movenents. The male came upon the third intersection and a low hiss reached their ears. Something followed the noise that moved so quickly it had the appearance of a black streak. It knocked into the male Hamilton, taking him to the ground, and sliding with him into the hallway out of sight.
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All Good Things Come to Those Who Wait