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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.

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The predator Elder handed the spear to the human woman and stepped back. Swinging round to face his ship, the action sending his waist length dreadlocks flying in an arc around his head, he stalked back on board, the doors closing behind him. The ship rose silently into the air, upwards and out of orbit, into the cold depths of space, leaving the woman alone in the icy, frozen wasteland that was Antarctica…

Uninterested in the credits and the seemingly unending lists of makeup artists, lighting engineers etc, Kehlan reached over and stopped the recording. She’d watched the old movie in the name of research but much to her surprise, she’d enjoyed it. Made almost four hundred years ago, the movie had been presented as fiction and audiences of the time would never have realized it was based on true events. It was heavily dramatised, she knew, and probably bore little or no resemblance to what had actually happened. She gave a snort of disgust as she thought about the commandoes in the first in the series of films. “Amateurs!”

The comm. system activated with a shrill whistle. “Captain, a message has just come through from the Ch’Tang.” The voice was that of Kehlan’s first officer and marines’ commander, Lt Colonel Philip Speares or Minty as he was more informally called, although rarely to his face. “The Yautja ship is coming into range and General Rustadh asks that you beam across at 16:00 hours.”

Kehlan glanced at the time, 14:50. She had just over an hour left to finish her preparations. “Thank you Colonel. Tell the General I will be there.”

“Will do, Captain,” Speares said cheerfully. The burly Welshman had served with Kehlan for a long time, since she had first come aboard the Endeavour as the ship’s first officer during the Dominion war. Outwardly easygoing and a bit of a joker at times, he was nevertheless a fine officer and there was no-one, apart from her husband, that she would rather have at her side in battle.

Breaking off the communication, Kehlan rifled through the pile of padds on her desk picking out the ones she wanted. Getting to her feet she left her ready room and headed out onto the bridge.

Colonel Speares, sitting in the captain’s chair, started to get up when he saw his captain coming onto the bridge but she waved a hand, telling him to stay where he was. She was just passing through on her way to her quarters.

Someone must have already been using the turbolift because Kehlan had to wait a minute or two for it to arrive. Glancing around the bridge as she waited, she surveyed her crew. With the ship about to make first contact with a race as dangerous as the Yautja, all the senior officers were on duty. They were a mixed bunch, more mixed than was usual on a Starfleet Vessel. While Starfleet was of course a multi-cultural organisation, it was still very much dominated by the Terrans. Not that you could tell from looking at her crew, Kehlan reflected. Her senior staff were a melting pot of races and species from all across the Federation.

Next to Colonel Speares was Rhiana, her Romulan second officer. In his usual place at the back of the bridge was S’ian, her Vulcan head of Science. He was talking quietly with Lieutenant Morgana Baker, a Terran of English/Ukrainian descent. Even her chief engineer was on the bridge, a large Klingon named Qeytok. All of them had served with Kehlan a very long time.

Kehlan smiled to herself as she looked at them. It was her opinion - and of course she was not even slightly biased, even if every captain she knew made the same claim about their own officers - that they were the best crew in the whole of Starfleet. No captain could ever ask for better.

The turbolift doors finally swished open and Kehlan stepped inside, the doors shutting again behind her. “Deck eight,” she instructed the ship’s computer and the lift began to move. The journey lasted only a few seconds before the doors opened again onto the deck where most of the senior officers’ quarters were located. Moving down the corridor at a brisk pace, Kehlan quickly reached her quarters and went inside. Crossing the room, she went straight to the replicator and helped herself to a large mug of raktajino – a strong coffee-like beverage that was very popular in the Klingon Empire. Taking a mouthful of the scalding hot drink, she sighed in appreciation and making herself comfortable on the large sofa, she continued to review the available data on the Yautja race, keeping an eye on the passage of time as she did so.

Their visits to Earth were well documented but they had hunted on Qo’noS as well, Kehlan knew. Half human, half Klingon, she was a child of two worlds and both her peoples had fallen victim to the predators, although she thought wryly, the Klingons would dispute her use of the word ‘victim’. Ancient Klingon legends told how in the very hottest summers, hunters had come from the sky and great battles had been fought. Of course, it was always the Klingons who won those glorious battles. Come to think of it, it was the same with the Terran stories – the alien visitors were bigger, stronger, and faster. They had better technology, better weapons, better everything in fact. But inevitably, in every story they were eventually defeated. Kehlan smiled at the thought. Scriptwriters had a lot to answer for!

Kehlan had plenty of questions about this mission and hopefully soon she would begin to get some answers. Why had the Yautja decided to negotiate? Why now, after all these years? It had been over three hundred years since the last known visit of the Predators to Earth and much longer for Qo’noS. The dates coincided, she noticed, with the development of warp drive. Did the Yautja prefer not to hunt space-going races? Whatever the reason, in all that time, nothing had been heard of the Yautja. They had just disappeared into legend and myth – until a few weeks ago.

Why had she been chosen to represent the Federation, Kehlan wondered? She was a ship’s captain – a Fleet Captain admittedly but still only a captain, not an admiral or a diplomat. Actually, she suspected, her rank was exactly the reason Starfleet had picked her – as Fleet Captain her rank was high enough that it would not give offence to the Yautja, yet low enough that if anything went wrong she would not be missed too much. The Yautja had a fearsome reputation and she was expendable. Dismissing the thought as overly cynical, she got up and walked into her bedroom. It was time to get ready for the meeting.

Opening her wardrobe, she wasted several minutes trying to decide what to wear. She really hated the formal white dress uniform that Starfleet had decreed to be the appropriate garb for meeting visiting dignitaries – admittedly it was very smart but it was not at all practical and if she had to fight then it would hamper her freedom of movement. The Yautja were a warrior race and were not likely to be impressed by the white gabardine jacket and the black trousers with the fancy gold braid down each leg. It seemed to Kehlan that her battle armour was far more suitable. The decision made, she began to get changed and after a few moments she stood in front of the mirror to check her appearance. The heavy leather armour fitted her well, clinging to her curves and displaying a generous amount of cleavage. She’d always wondered about that – what was the point in armour that had a great big hole in the front? You might as well just wear a sign saying “Aim here!” Maybe that was the point she thought whimsically, the enemy was supposed to be so dazzled by the female warrior’s cleavage that they would be unable to fight her! Apart from that one flaw, the armour was practical and surprisingly comfortable.

Satisfied, she picked up her d’k’tahg and fastened it to her belt before leaving her quarters and heading to the transporter room. Greeting the duty ensign, a young Bajoran fresh from Starfleet Academy, Kehlan stepped up onto the transporter pad. “Beam me over to the Ch’Tang,” she instructed, “You have the coordinates?”

“Yes Captain,” the ensign said crisply, “Ready to transport.”

Kehlan gave a nod of acknowledgement. “Energise!”
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A New Alliance