A New Alliance | By : Kehlan Category: M through R > Predator Views: 2899 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Predator movie series, nor do I own Star Trek, nor any of the characters from either of them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
The active chatter in Ten Forward faded as the group of officers and ambassadors entered. It did not fall completely silent but there was a marked reduction in the decibel level. Bart grinned across the counter as he polished a glass, studying the newcomers with interest. So these were the infamous Predators everyone was talking about. His grin faded. He really needed to have a quiet talk with Colonel Speares. The hologram was an experienced bartender, he knew that people often said things they didn’t mean, but even so, some of what he had heard worried him.
Kihr’yende's gaze was drawn immediately to the view from the enormous windows that lined the room. Slowly he moved closer and the crowd of sightseers parted, moving back to avoid him. Almost hypnotised he drank in the sight of Yeyinde. "I rarely get to see my ship from the outside" he told Khetara quietly, his tone almost reverent.The Klingon nodded, wordlessly agreeing as a moment of understanding passed between the two commanding officers.Dragging his eyes away from his ship, the Predator captain examined the room. He was enjoying this tour of the ship and while still wary, was beginning to relax a little. Engineering in particular had caught his interest, as had the holodecks. Kihr’yende could see great potential for the latter, although he doubted his father had appreciated the lecture on holographic technology. If the Elder had been bored though, he’d hidden it well.As the two Ambassadors looked around the room, the holographic bartender pulled out some of the large metallic beakers normally used to serve bloodwine. He thought for a moment, considering what drink to offer the newcomers before deciding on Prune Juice. The Klingons seemed to like the foul concoction, calling it a warrior’s drink. He had an idea the Yautja might like it as well. He was about to unstopper the bottle and pour the drinks when he stopped, looking again at the Yautja. Their masks covered their faces completely, with no apertures around the mouth or nasal areas. Obviously, he reasoned, they were wearing the masks for a reason, although what that reason might be escaped him. Some instinct told him it might not be diplomatic to ask them to remove them. "Would.... either of you honoured gentlemen care to sample a beverage?" he ventured, finally.
The Elder cocked his head slightly, studying the hologram with interest. Sensing something different, he touched a control, activating the heat sensors in his mask. There was no thermal signature coming from the bartender, he simply was not there. Tensing, the old Predator let out a low growl of wary confusion, not quite understanding what he was looking at.
The Predator turned his gaze on the Ooman. "What is this that stands in front of me?"
At first no one noticed. No alarm sounded. No warning lights flashed around the edge of the hatch. It was not until the wind whipped up that anyone realised something was wrong and by then it was already too late. The roar of the escaping air and collapsing equipment all but drowned out the terrified scream as a crewman was blown out into space.
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