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The Fighting Irish: Catalyst and the Dtai'kai'rish	By : girlyhero Category: M through R > Predator Views: 4378 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from Predator, Alien Vs. Predator, Alien franchises.

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Jesse stretched out on the grass, the warm sun glazing her skin. Though she could not feel its warmth, it was soothing. The clouds rolled by quickly making shadows over her body. It took her a moment to realize she was was naked, but she did not care. She felt at peace for the moment as her body rose into the air not facing up or down, no direction her equilibrium could feel and surrounded by nothing but sky. Shadows crossed by as clouds drifted under the sun.

One of the shadows took a shape. It was two figures, one she recognized and the other she did not. It was Jett floating in the sky with the other figure, positioned as though making love to it. Her hair drifted in the air as though she were floating in water. Blood trickled from the side of her mouth. Jesse could not find words to describe the other... thing. It was as black as Jett's hair. Its shape was odd and unnatural; its body twisted around Jett so as Jesse could only see the horns protruding from its back like a coral reef connected by a stretch of skin--a stiffened fin, a tail wrapped around her legs with a bladed tip, and a long curved skull. Though she could not comprehend what it was, her mind told her it was unsafe, told her to run, but her body could not. She watched the jaws of the thing open, a tube-like appendage push forward. She almost named the appendage a tongue until she saw the end stretch open another set of jaws with menacing teeth. The appendage slid between Jett's breasts slowly and stopped short of her chin, nipping. Jesse then thought she heard her say something.

"What?" Jesse asked.

Jett repeated herself. "It's glass."

Blood fell from her mouth and onto Jesse. She twisted about to get away, and suddenly found herself in the campus library of Wyoming. The fire alarm was going off, and the water sprinklers were spraying blood, turning the buildings decorum red. Jesse shivered though she was not cold. She started to cry but feared her tears were turning to blood too. "What is glass?!" She called out. Nothing replied except the noise of various alarms. "Please! Stop!"

The noise turned to pure silence. The only thing in her ears was the echo of her body, a beat of her heart and the rasp of her breathing. The blood stopped, droplets hanging in midair. Jesse stepped forward, disturbing some of the blood. Some of the drops shifted with the air, and others soaking into her. She was still naked.

She ran towards the main doors, but as she did, she saw some of the blood drops were not red but green, a bright, neon green. The green blood seemed to be attracted to her, as though it was chasing her when she tried to leave, whereas the red blood tried to move away from her and out of her path. Once the door was in sight, she felt relief and her heart beat became softer. As she got closer, she saw another two figures, one on either side of the doors. She slowed as she realized the figures were hanging upside down, both stripped of their skin. One was covered in the red blood, the other the shocking green. They were familiar to her.

Her heart started pounding in her ear once more. She closed her eyes though she could still see and ran forward, bursting through the doors. Opening her eyes, though it didn't matter since she saw everything, she found herself in the campus courtyard. Though she knew she should feel at home, she did not. Everything about the place seemed empty and frigid, though the colors were warm oranges and reds. Sound had returned. Sirens echoed over the world warning of the hell from the sky. She looked up and saw the sky was on fire, clouds eaten away by orange flames. When she looked across the way and saw the doors of a fallout shelter still wide open. It was a sight she welcomed, but her body told her no. As she waited, Jett stepped forth from the darkness followed by several of the things that had been with her in the sky before. Behind her in the darkness was something else. She couldn't physically see it, but she knew what is was-- it was bigger than the other black monsters... its head was like a crown... Jett stood waiting for Jesse. When Jesse did not come forward, she reached her hand out to her. Her arm jutting forward, the things moved and snapped at the air, snapped at Jesse.

Jesse looked up again and saw the flames were getting closer. She looked about and saw behind her two new figures stood. There backs were to her, but she knew who they were by the long black dreadlocks the tall one had and the wavy thin, red dreads the short one wore.

Naranarti and Mhrende. They'd came back for her. She called out to them. As she did, they took a step forward walking away from her. She'd ran to them, though her movements were slow. Naranarti's head moved to glance over his shoulder at her. She went to take a step but stopped herself. Jesse looked back behind her and saw Jett standing in the doorway still. When she turned back to Naranarti, they were gone.

Jesse panicked, and her heart pounded in her ears once more. She spun on her heals towards Jett again, but she and the entire building was gone. All the buildings were gone leaving a plain of broken earth riddled with flames and ash. Hot tears fell down her cheeks, these she could actually feel. She inwardly coached herself to turn back towards where Naranarti and Mhrende had been. Maybe they were still there, maybe they wouldn't truly abandon her.

She turned and was met with a great pain in her stomach. She did not see Naranarti or Mhrende. Before her stood the large black and red scaled Ulij, his gauntlet blade stuck deep within her belly. Slowly, he picked her up from the ground by the blade, her body dangling as her abdominal muscles clenched in the throws of agony. He hissed with pleasure as her blood trickled down his arm. Her mouth agape in pain and shock, she could say nothing, tears still running down her face and neck. She was lifted high enough to see over his head. Naranarti was standing on the beach next to his shuttle. He was about to get back into it.

Jesse reached her arm out for him. "NARA!!"

*****

Jesse launched forward off the bed and into the wall of her bedroom. She knocked over a small table in the progress. Her eyes burned with tears, and the heat in her throat choked her. She was having an anxiety attack, her heart not able to keep up with itself. She looked about and saw she was in her room at Jett's old house. There was no Jett, no demon-monster, no Ulij, no blood, nothing to frighten her. The only things amiss were the sheets, pillows and the one table in disarray. She took control of her breathing and let her choked larynx unravel an agonizing cry of hurt. The tears were flowing more freely as she cried.

It took her a moment, but she realized she was crying out Nara's name repeatedly as though he would burst through the door to check on her. She stopped herself, knowing he wasn't there to hear her. Another moment passed of her sobbing, and she noticed her legs were wet. The smell was harsh and like ammonia. She slammed her fist into the wall. "Dammit!" At some point, she had urinated on herself and possibly on the bed. "God-fucking-dammit!" She went to the bathroom to finish relieving herself and wash off.

Afterward, she was very awake but calm. She had wrapped herself in a soft, down robe and a towel over her hair. She checked the bed and sighed. She remembered what her mother used to do for these incidents, though, and went to work cleaning the mattress. She took the sheets to the washing room, and she returned to fix what she broke in her bedroom. The table she'd knocked over had a broken leg, but duct tape saved it for another day. The alarm clock that had been sitting on it was fine. It read 1:34 a.m.

Setting the clock down, Jesse sat on the vanity bench. She sighed several times, tears welling up again. She was thinking about Naranarti and trying to forget her nightmare. Most of it made no sense to her and frightened her into delirium. The part with Naranarti though rang clear: she'd made a mistake by leaving him. She glanced at her purse on the vanity. "Maybe it's not too late..." she mumbled aloud to herself. She reached in and grabbed the pregnancy-test-disguised communicator. If it wasn't too late for him to ask her to stay when she was standing on the earth she requested to be on, then maybe it wasn't too late to say she was mistaken, that she wanted to be with him.

But what the hell was she going to say? What if he didn't remember her? It hadn't been that long, had it, though? Time passed differently for him and his people. Four years for her could be merely four months to him. She opened the the test-cap and pulled the pen out. She opened it up, surprised she remembered how, recalling the way his talons pulled delicately at it. The red holographic screen up and running, she started typing over the keyboard.
*****

The darkness surrounded Naranarti. It was a familiar place to him, a challenge he always wished to meet, Mesh'in'ga Dtai'kai, the Battle of Dreams, a dream that reflected the depths and strengths of the Yautja soul. Though he never saw it in the black abyss, the D'yeka,-- the Ultimate prey, was there circling him looking for the perfect place to strike. It would snap at him with hellish jaws, making the Kainde Amedha seem more like a pup's first chase than a dangerous monstrosity. Sometimes it got him, but sometimes it missed. On rare occasions, he actually struck it. His goal was the same, nonetheless: make a trophy of it.

The hissing from the beast paused. There was something else in the darkness; he could hear the shuffling. Another D'yeka?

"Nara!"

He jerked around and looked for the voice. He knew the voice-- he could never forget her voice. He ran towards the sound.

"Nara!!" she called again, more frantic this time.

"Jess'si'deinz?!" he called back. When he did, the monster growled off to the side at a distance. It was heading for her. He bolted into the darkness. "Jess'si!!"

"NARA!!"

Several claps of thunder sounded one over the other. No, it wasn't thunder-- he knew this sound too. It was the sound of Ooman-burner bullets being fired. The low hiss of the beast started again, this time close behind him, though it lost its aggression. It was on the defense.

Naranarti started running again. "Jess'si'deinz!" There was no reply. As he got closer, the smell of Ooman blood was strong, and he could tell it was hers. He had been clinging on the hope that she was the one with the burner and was firing at the D'yeka. Now, it was apparent a new enemy was present. "Jess'si," he hissed her name.

The darkness turned to pure white light so suddenly it dazzled him. He recovered and spun around looking her his enemies. The monster had disappeared without a trace, and there were no other beings present. He could still smell Jess'si'deinz's blood, though. He continued running, calling again for her. His voice echoed over the vast expanse. He had no sense of direction here, knowing not whether he was going in a straight line or in circles.

In the distance, as though it appeared out of thin-air, was a large splash of red, a figure lying in the center of it. He pushed himself to move faster, though it didn't seem fast enough in his mind. It was Jess'si'deinz lying in her blood, unmoving and twisted in a state of death, a ring of small Ooman burners surrounding her, the smell of burned sulfur and nitrate irradiating from them and distorting his senses.

He slid onto his knees through the blood and scooped her up into his arms. She was limp and wet with red blood, her torso riddled with holes gushing a steady flow of fluid. He repeated her name, but there was no sound coming from him. He begged her to say something, to move in his arms, to be alive. Again, not a single sound escaped his throat. He touched her face and moved her head looking for any sign of life. He pressed on the holes to make them stop bleeding, but he would apply pressure on one and another would bleed more.

The burners shifted and rose into the air on their own like specter enemies aiming at their prey. The squared barrels pointed at he and Jess'si'deinz, but he did not care. His throat released a sound he hadn't heard for a very long time. A series of whimpers echoed from him as he buried his face into her neck. They continued as he waited for the burners to fire and kill him as well, his apathy entwined with his heartache. He lifted his head and looked upon her face once again. Her head had rolled to the side, staring at nothing with the pale eyes of death.

Her head jerked up and stared at him, a startling sight made more unsettling when she spoke in his language.

"You need to come get me."

*****

Naranarti grabbed the edges of the control console he was sitting in front of. His heart was racing, and he was soaked in sweat, musk pumping from him like a geyser. The scent ached him, heavy with hostile aggression and sorrow. He looked about as though he didn't remember falling asleep in the cockpit. Stirring near the door caught his attention. He looked over to see Yekita and Mhrende wearing sparring armor standing in the doorway not yet noticing he was awake.

"One, two, three," Yekita said and tossed his tribal medallion in the air. Both watched the coin flip and fall to the ground. They looked at the side it had landed on. "Fuck my life."

"You're going to miss those arms when he rips them off," Mhrende commented.

"Why are we waking him, again?"

"Because---oh!" Mhrende saw Naranarti stand from the pilot's chair. He rushed forward with Naranarti's computerized gauntlet in hand. "Because this went off. I went to your quarters to look for you, and as I left, it started beeping. A message, I think, from--"

Naranarti snatched the gauntlet from him. There was only one being in the Universe who'd send him a message by such means. "Next time, just throw the damn thing at me," he said, voice frantic as he opened the control pad, "If you're afraid I'll tear your face off for waking me! Idiots!" He read the message, and his face softened.

Yekita stepped forward wanting to look over his shoulder at the message. "Is it important?"

Naranarti side-stepped away from him, though. "Back up! It's important to me-- not you!"

"Is it Jess'si'deinz," Mhrende asked, knowing well it was her. Both he and Yekita tried to get around to see the message. "Is she in danger!?"

"No, now get away," Naranarti hissed at them. When he saw they were not listening, he growled in a more hostile manner. Yekita pivoted and bounced behind Naranarti. He was much taller than his old instructor and could catch a glance if he got in the right view. Naranarti spun and caught Yekita in his ribs with his elbow. He saw from the corner of his eye, Mhrende trying to take back the gauntlet. He snatched him by the back of his neck and slammed him into the back of the chair. He brought his other arm around Yekita's neck and held him in a headlock, Yekita pushing and clawing in protest. "Will you two lay off!? Nosy-ass, little suckers!"

"I just wanted to know if she was okay--" Mhrende said as he twisted about to put his back against the chair, Naranarti's hand grasping the collar-guard of his sparring armor.

"She's fine, dammit," Naranarti yelled.

"Aww~! She misses you!" Yekita said, discovering he was at a perfect angle to see the screen of the gauntlet.

"Stop reading my message!"

Mhrende gasped, and his eyes widened in surprise. "You mean Yekita can read?!" His voice was laced with sarcasm and a condescending tone.

The three of them stopped squirming. Naranarti tightened his mandibles and held his breath, knowing well the moment he exhaled he was going to laugh. Yekita started with a low growl, and then pushed himself forward reaching out across Naranarti at Mhrende. "You little fucker!! I'm gonna rip your hair out!!"

Mhrende twisted to the side and raised his leg up. He pushed his knee gingerly into Naranarti's side using him as a pivot, then pulled his other leg up and smacked Yekita in the face with his foot. "That's for cracking a staff over my back, dickhead!"

Naranarti dropped his gauntlet and grabbed Yekita with his claws. He drew them both forward and slammed them into each other. He could hear the air being knocked out of Yekita, and Mhrende yelped he was face-planted into Yekita's breast bone. He let them go stumbling backwards from each other. "Cut that shit out!" He bent and retrieved his gauntlet. "And, yes, that's what it says..." He sat back into his chair and set the gauntlet on the console, staring at it.

Mhrende crept up and leaned over the chair's back to read the message: "Nara. I miss you." He purred lightly, until Yekita pushed him to the side, then his purring turned into growling.

"Call me illiterate, you punk," he mumbled, ignoring Mhrende's growling. He grabbed Naranarti's shoulder and shook him a bit. "So what're you going to say back?"

Naranarti looked up at him. He started to say something but realized there wasn't anything for him to say. He didn't have an answer. "Uh...I don't know," he finally said.

"This is what you get for fucking Mhrende all these seasons," Yekita murmured and ignored the mentioned's protests. He grabbed up the gauntlet and stared at the message.

"Don't fuck with that!?" Naranarti hissed.

"I won't," Yekita reassured. "You think she misses you or really misses you?"

"I think you're going to miss your mandibles if you don't give me back the damn thing."

He handed it back. "Why didn't she say your whole name? Isn't that a bit...um, I don't want to say...disrespectful...BOLD! Yeah, bold. Isn't that pretty bold of her?"

"No, stupid," Mhrende said. He started to trill. "It shows endearment. Oomans always shorten the names of loved ones. It's almost as though the shorter they can manage, the more they care."

"Nice," Yekita trilled. "Then let's go get her!"

"What!?" Naranarti said as he hooked up the gauntlet to the console. He opened the keyboard and started the message program. "Missing me is not necessarily a sign of wanting me to snatch her away from whatever life she's made for herself on her world. Mhrende's right; you are stupid."

"I may be a jackass, but I know how to read females better than you do," Yekita said, ignoring Mhrende's trilling. "Every female being in the Universe likes to play mind-games like this-- the whole females-never-say-what-they-mean thing. Even Yautja females do it, just more sadistically. She says 'I miss you,' but what she means is 'I want you to miss me.'"

Naranarti rolled his eyes. "No shit, stupid. I think everyone on the Clan ship knows I obsess over an Ooman female. I miss mating seasons because I miss her."

"You should tell her that!" Yekita suggested. "Sounds romantic."

"NO!" Mhrende hissed. "Ooman romance is very different than ours-- than most other beings'. You talk about mating without knowing for damn-sure that she's interested, then you'll scare her off!"

"How the hell do you know?!"

"Because I spend time studying Oomans for the hunt. On the slow hours, I get to learn about their cultures. You've never even seen an Ooman female!"

Yekita shrugged. He couldn't argue with the truth. "Then what's he supposed to say to her, smart-ass?"

Meanwhile, Naranarti was ignoring them. He was typing what he believed was an appropriate and meaningful response. He stared at the sentence for a long moment. Flashes of memory ran through his mind of her. He had seen many sides of her, faces ranging from ecstatic to thoughtfully, angry to sad, happy to terrified. His nightmare interrupted his thoughts, her bloody face and pale, dead eyes. He shuddered, then sent the message.

The beep of the console interrupted Mhrende and Yekita's conversation. They launched towards the console and slammed into the back of Naranarti's chair. The message was still on screen as it loaded into the gauntlet and started to send off as a radio-wave through open space. "Oh, that's good. She'll like that," Mhrende commented.

"Subtle, but if Oomans go for that--" Yekita said.

"Am I not allowed to tell her what I think," Naranarti growled, then barked his orders. "Or, for that matter, send my Jess'si'deinz messages in private?! Get the fuck out of here!!"

The two sprinted out of the cockpit and down the hall towards the rec-room where they had been before. It turned into a race, pushing and pulling the other out of the way. They passed Denarde on his way to the medical bay who yelled at them for idiocy. Mhrende tumbled into the rec-room and grabbed up the staff that Yekita had caught over his back earlier. He held it defensively. Once Yekita ran in, he swung the staff under his legs and took Yekita to the floor. "Didn't see that coming, did you," he said trilling.

Yekita rolled back onto his feet. "Asshole," he hissed. He reached out to grab the Warrior, but Mhrende bounced away and laughed. He wasn't laughing at him, though; Mhrende was too bubbly and playful, almost drunk. "What's with you?"

"You weren't around him when she was with us, so you didn't catch it," he replied leaning on the staff. "He hasn't said it even in reference to her for so long." Mhrende saw the puzzled look on Yekita's face. "He said 'my Jess'si'deinz'-- he hasn't called her that since he took her back to her planet."

"Things are going to get interesting again, aren't they? And I won't even have to blow something up."
*****

Denarde strolled into the cockpit as though he was bored and had no purpose for actually being there. Naranarti knew better than that. He leaned on his arm and waited for Denarde to start talking.

"Was there a reason we changed directory to the Ooman homeworld or are you running on a whim?" Denarde finally asked after pacing for a moment.

"I have my reasons. Whether they are based on a whim is really opinionated," was Naranarti's reply.

"So you are going to check on your little pet who sent you a message in such a sudden manner it probably set your loins aflame without the need of pheromones." Naranarti turned and looked at him in mild astonishment. Denarde continued and explained, "I was in the med-lab, and my son's voice travels." His brow creased into a glare. "I need to get my research back to my lab on the Clan ship; do you have a reason why I shouldn't be irritated at you?"

Naranarti grinned. "I'm the Arbitrator, and I can do the hell I want. Also, I could have left you on the planet with Yekita to pester you while I did this, then pick you up." He thought it was funny, but Denarde did not. He sighed and relayed his nightmare to him. Denarde's expression changed from annoyance to deep concern. "What is it?"

Denarde shuddered. "Your father had a nightmare similar to that-- basic Mesh'in'ga Dtai'kai, battling the D'yeka in darkness but then changing to horrors in open light. Except his was of your Elite siblings and the old Arbitrators hanging from chains without their skins. This he had only a few hours before they were all killed in the War." He looked off into the open. "I think you should contact your old sorcerer friend. If I recall right, once he mentioned certain Mesh'in'ga can bear significant meaning."

"Considering the tid-bit you told me about my father's nightmares, but a message might not get to him in time, so I'm still going to her, if only to check and ensure she is safe," Naranarti said in response.

"Hell, just pick her up and take her home with you," Denarde said with a shrug. "If you two are writing love-notes back and forth to one another, you might as well."

"Oomans don't need other Oomans," Naranarti said absently. Before he was asked to explain, he continued on the original thought. "We'll be at her planet shortly. If you're not doing anything, do you think you could set up a breather for her-- find a juvenile one, that should fit."

"I'm demoted to do such work?" The complaint was sarcastic.

"I'd rather she not suffocate. Don't make an exact copy of her atmosphere; the shit is poison even to them. Clean it up alittle-- give her the atmosphere of the Kv'var planet!"

"I'm not retarded-- of course I'm going to give her the better air to breathe! Who am I? Yekita?" Denarde left.

Naranarti sat thoughtfully. He leaned forward and started typing a new message to her without waiting for a response. He didn't know that what she told him was false, maybe she didn't either. Maybe she didn't see it until now, and that was why she was contacting him. But like Mhrende had said before she left-- it's never too late to ask her to stay....

Oomans do not need other oomans, just companionship.
*****

Jesse laid on the couch in the living room of Jett's house typing and reading the messages as they came through. She would wait twenty minutes at a time for a response, which made her wonder how far away he was, her last question being such. The first message she received made her giggle and run about her bedroom like a fifteen-year-old getting her first phone call from her crush.

I think of you often.

Jesse admitted she feared he'd have forgotten her. She didn't know what else to say, so she sent that message off. Twenty minutes later, she received his reply.

I remember much about you. I remember your eyes, soft green like moss. I also remember the feel of your skin against mine. I do miss you.

That message had sent Jesse piling into the couch. He was bold, but he must have remembered all the tensions between them. It was going out on a limb, but she wanted to return the compliment. She told him she remembered his scars, the ones that ran down his face. She also said she wished she had felt them when she had the chance. She didn't realize what she'd done until the message was already sent. There wasn't anyway to interrupt, retract or even stop the message. For the longest twenty minutes of her life she rolled about on the couch, biting the edges of the pillows and burying her head in the cushions. Finally, he answered her. She almost didn't want to read it, but she had an apology in mind if needed. It wasn't.

I miss your pleasant scent. I dream of you, and that is the one thing not present. When you were near me, I felt emotions I had not before.

Jesse had made a long reply. She spoke it twice to make sure she was understandable. "My life is empty without you, and I think that even with the distance, I am in love with you. I noticed the time length between replies. How far away are you? How long would it take you to get to me? Would it be possible for you to take me away with you, to take back my old decision and stay with you? I need till tomorrow to settle my affairs and get myself ready. Is that alright?"

In a very short amount of time, she received a message. He must have sent another while she was sending hers. It made her think of the days of "IMing" and made her laugh alittle. When she read the message, though, tears welled up in her eyes, and she smiled bright. Great minds think alike, and closer hearts feel the same.

Oomans do not need other oomans, just companionship.

Jesse rushed to her bedroom and pulled out a duffel bag. She opened her closet and looked about at her clothes. She remembered the heat from his ship. They liked the heat, Rina had told her on the planet. With this in mind, she grabbed a tank-top and a long, silk, sleeveless dress. Throwing them into the duffel, she opened dresser and grabbed a string-bikini. Underwear wouldn't last as long so she nixed them, considering going "commando". She would dress for work in jeans, a tee and short-sports-coat and wear that to him. Grabbing the bag, she ran into the bathroom and emptied out the medicine cabinet into it. She also grabbed a razor and soap. They wouldn't last her either, but again, they may have things comparable.

Pictures that had been sitting in her room and in the living room made their way into the duffel. She didn't have many personal things that meant much to her, but the pictures were all she had left of the faces from her past. It had gotten to a point where she was forgetting her old friends who she didn't have pictures of. Life was tearing her apart, and if it was going to do that, she needed a distraction-- Nara was it. With room to spare, she pulled a few of her favorite texts on biological theory and botany along with a journal, human biology text, and her at-home diagnostics book in case she ever got sick.

She slumped feeling silly. Nara would probably laugh at her when he saw what she had, but she had logical reasons to have them. If he told her to leave things behind, she would only bring the pictures. And the dog tag. It was in her briefcase. She grabbed it and emptied the entire contents into the duffel. The tag slipped out from a pocket along with a million other small items and paperwork she would weed out after the exams were over. She zipped the bag up and heard the beep of the communicator. He'd sent her a new message.

I will be there soon. It will be less than half a cycle before I get there.

She asked if she could bring anything with her, mentioning the books, some clothes and her pictures. After she had made herself some coffee (it was six in the morning and she'd need to head out to work soon), he replied that she could bring what could fit into his shuttle. She looked at the bag and nodded to herself. With a fun thought, she opened the refrigerator and pulled out a mason jar of moonshine. She wrapped it up in a towel and put it in her bag. With room left, she grabbed up a deck of cards and some dice. It did not take long for her to realize she needed a shower, running around making her sweaty and grimy. The communicator beeped at her again, though.

And I love you, too.
*****
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The Fighting Irish: Catalyst and the Dtai'kai'rish