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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.

Chapter List
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Warily, Kehlan looked up, turning her head. In the entrance to the clearing, stood a Yautja hunter, obviously much older and better armed than the one she had come to know as George. A mask with strange symbols marked on it covered his face and his tentacle-like hair hung well below his shoulders, decorated by ornate gold coloured rings. He was taller than George, his body lean and muscular. An energy weapon of some kind was mounted on his left shoulder, maybe some sort of phaser or disruptor, but looking like nothing so much as a small canon. In his hand, he held a vicious looking spear and she could see other weapons hanging from his belt. Obviously he knew and understood the dangers of this world and was well prepared for combat.

Behind him were several more of his kind, equally heavily armed. Moving with the assured confidence of seasoned warriors, they entered the clearing, spreading out and cutting off her escape route.

Laying down George’s knife, Kehlan slowly and carefully rose to her feet, holding out her hands to show she held no weapons and was no threat to them. The big predator, obviously the leader of the group, stared at Kehlan for long moments. She held her ground, having long since learned from George that to show any sign of fear or nervousness would be a fatal mistake.

He took a step towards her, a low growl rumbling through his body. Never taking her eyes off him, Kehlan stepped back, instinctively moving to protect her unconscious friend. These were George's people, Kehlan knew, but that did not make them any less of a threat. She had no way of knowing if they meant any harm to him. Why had they left him to fight those creatures on his own? Had it been a trial of some sort? Or had they meant for him to die?

The newcomer's body tensed and his wristblades snapped out as he prepared to strike down the impudent Ooman thing who dared to stand between him and his goal. The faint, familiar whisper of metal on metal seeped into the consciousness of the injured youngster, calling him back to the waking world. The first sensation to return was pain and he let out a gravelly moan, the sound bringing one of the other warriors to his side instantly. Kehlan relaxed slightly at the sight, realising that the hunter seemed to have no threatening intentions... not to George anyway... it was only her who was in any danger. Baring her teeth at the huge predator in front of her, she let out a growl of her own and prepared to defend herself. She was unarmed but that did not make her an easy target.

A strident noise cut across the clearing, stopping the Predator in his tracks. George was struggling to his feet and he was vocal about... something. Kehlan could only watch as the young hunter crossed the clearing to stand by her side. His tone was respectful yet insistent as he spoke with the older Predator in his own language, his words incomprehensible to the Klingon woman, sounding like little more than a series of clicks and growls. After a few moments, the older warrior sheathed his blades and turned to inspect the net bags full of trophies.

George spoke again and it seemed to Kehlan that his growls had taken on a slightly nervous tone. A student waiting for the approval of a teacher? He gestured towards the remains of the alien queen and as he did so, for the first time he saw that the skull was almost completely removed from the corpse. Kehlan had not quite finished the job when she had been disturbed and it was not as neatly done as it might have been, but still it was a good effort. Looking down at Kehlan he cocked his head and let out an enquiring click. She nodded, smiled slightly and gestured with both hands towards him, hoping that it translated. She meant the trophy as a gift for him.

The predator leader stood watching the interaction between the two. Turning, he moved towards the body of the fallen alien queen and examined it carefully. Satisfied with what he saw, he bent and with a sharp gesture, broke off the tip of a claw, dipping it into the acidic blood of the creature and approaching the young Predator.

George stood proudly, not moving as the older Predator carved the same lightning bolt symbol that adorned their masks into the centre of his forehead above his eyes. There was a faint hissing sound as the acid etched the design into his reptilian skin, but other than a faint clenching of his fists, he gave no indication of pain.

The ritual marking complete, blood ran freely down George's face. He spread his arms and flared his mandible's wide in a roar of victorious challenge to the naked stars. No longer an insignificant Unblood, he had succeeded in the Hunt and had the trophies and the clan symbol to prove it. He was a Blooded Warrior!

And yet... he had not been alone in his journey. He glanced speculatively at his Klingon companion. She had saved his life more than once, as indeed, he had saved hers. They had fought together, side by side and the trophies were as much hers as they were his. And so was the right to the Blooding.

The young, newly Blooded hunter spoke urgently to the older Predator. He growled in negation, shaking his head, but George would not be silenced. His tone rose in agitation as the conversation continued. As the older Predator turned his attention on Kehlan she could only wonder what it was they were arguing about.

The Hunt Leader stared thoughtfully at the Ooman... if Ooman she truly was... he had never seen one who looked quite like this and he had hunted several in his time. The story the young hunter told was incredible, almost unbelievable. Yet he could sense only truth. By the rules of the Hunt, he had no choice. The Ooman was worthy and she must be Blooded. He pressed the alien claw into George’s hand and grunted his permission.

His mandibles flaring in satisfaction at getting his way, George bent to renew the acid on the tip of the claw before approaching Kehlan. Sensing that she did not quite understand what he wanted to do, the young Predator touched the mark on his forehead and then gestured towards Kehlan with the claw.

Her eyes widened. He was offering her a great honour she realised. Some instinct told her that it was rare for an outsider to be marked in this way and that to refuse would be considered an insult. Taking a deep breath, she looked up, into those deep set amber eyes and nodded her acceptance.

He moved closer, until their bodies were almost touching and lowered his head, intently studying her face. Kehlan held herself very still, barely daring to breathe as, slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wished, her Yautja friend raised his hand to her forehead. He hesitated for a moment before drawing back slightly, realising that her cranial ridges would make it difficult to draw the design correctly.

Guessing at the problem, Kehlan reached up and brushed her hair back behind her ear, turning her head slightly to present her cheek.

George’s mandibles twitched slightly in approval. “Yesss Good”

The newly Blooded predator was millimetres from touching Kehlan's face with the claw when the older Predator snapped a command. George jerked back, startled by the unexpected reprimand. The Hunt Leader’s mandibles flared in amusement as he reminded George of his omission. The young hunter lowered his head, giving a grunt of embarrassment at the mistake he had almost made, a mistake that would have badly hurt his friend had the Leader not stopped him in time.

Kehlan frowned at the interruption wishing, not for the first time that she could understand the Yautja language, but the translator in her combadge was useless and the few words she and George had managed to learn of each other’s languages were not sufficient.

One of the other hunters handed George a knife, highly ornate and seemingly ceremonial. He laid the point of the blade against his arm and cut with precision. Luminescent yellow-green blood, glowing eerily in the moonlight and the flickering flames of the fire, welled up from the wound. The young predator allowed it to drip onto the alien claw. As the substances mixed, the claw seemed to sizzle, almost to the point of starting to melt itself but the chemical reaction finally settled and the Leader nodded in approval. The Blooding could proceed.

Suddenly Kehlan understood. The alien blood was highly corrosive. Obviously something in Yautja blood was able to at least partly neutralise it, to prevent the acid from eating through the skin and into the skull. She bared her cheek again, being careful to push her hair well out of the way. Baldness was not a current fashion on Qo'noS.

With a growl of concentration, her young friend touched the claw to her face and began to trace out the symbol of his clan. For a few moments Kehlan bore the burning pain in silence, but inevitably she could not hold back the growl that erupted, albeit softly. She'd thought cleaning her wounds was painful but this was ten times worse. Just when she thought she would disgrace herself and cry out, the claw was lifted from her face. It was done. She was Blooded.

Much as George had done, she threw back her head and howled.
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A New Alliance