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The Fighting Irish: To Hell and Back, With Love	By : girlyhero Category: M through R > Predator Views: 3343 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from Predator, Alien Vs. Predator, Alien franchises.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Author's Note: If you notice any errors, spelling or grammatical, let me know. Thanks.

*****
"You dumb fuck--"

"Shut your face!" Mhrende hissed at M'yreti. He was angry and embarrassed that his live prey had gotten away, and with some of their stuff no less.

"So what have you both learned today? What are your personal experiences in failure, Mhrende?" Naranarti asked in an amused tone.

"Not to let one's guard down," Mhrende answered.

"And?"

"Don't underestimate your prey. Just because it is bound does not make it incapacitated," Mhrende added.

"And you, M'yreti?"

M'yreti kicked the dirt feeling foolish. "Envy is a sign of weakness."

"Yes. Keep going."

"And boasting outside your capabilities will only set you up for failure."

"A good lesson, but what else?"

M'yreti's eyes shifted in uncertainty. "Don't be a dick...?"

Naranarti stared at him for a moment. "Not what I was aiming for, but yes, do focus on that. Now, both of you, what have you learned as a pack?"

"When one fails in their duties, all feel the punishment," both said in unison.

Naranarti grinned. "When the Oomans are dead and captured, the both of you will officially become Warriors, then you may challenge one another to your leisure. Until then-- and even after-- I hold the reigns."

The three of them were uncloaked and would have to work that way as an extra challenge to their trial. He was having too much fun with this, he knew, but he'd been so bored with the previous trials. Abduct Oomans. Drop off Oomans. Kill Oomans. Go home. Abduct Oomans. Drop off Oomans. Kill Oomans. Go home. Abduct Oomans. Drop off Oomans. Kill Oomans. Go home. Wet. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Now, not only were there an Ooman they must learn from in a Catch/Release exercise and another in which they were forbidden to harm and must capture, but they couldn't use their invisibility technology, acting as though the Ooman had stolen all of their devices. He had half a mind to make them leave their masks behind, but he wasn't going to be that cruel.

Yet. Not on the second run. He mused over how the two were fairing in their trial. It was unlike other classes he'd taught. Classes of five to twelve and almost all of them made at least one kill. Only once did he lose a student. Only once did a single student kill half of their prey and not for boasting reasons-- the others were not adequately ready and the Oomans were well skilled. Having only two this round was odd, but their generation was small and they were the only worthy of the merest attempt at warrior-hood. It seemed haphazard and like dumb-luck of them, but he could sense they were trying to face their challenges, the worst ones first. Generally, Yautja liked saving the best for last. The friendly-- as it actually was-- competition between M'yreti and Mhrende made them attack the more difficult ones or at least ignore dealing with the easy ones. The black warrior, the one with the colorful headdress (who'd just escaped) and the catch/release female were the main challenges. Though the old one was a worthy opponent that Naranarti wished he could hunt down himself, he feared that he had suffered damage while in cryostasis, his respiratory system erratic when they prepared him for the drop. That was the danger with the molecular ray technology; it could pull apart a being molecule by molecule and put it all back together again in the same state 99.9% of the time, but with so many molecules, someone had to make that point-one percent. This was why they avoided using the ray on themselves-- generally saved to drop large quantities of soldiers in war. His students must have sensed the damage to the elder Ooman too, as they avoided dealing with him; that and most of the time, he was too close to the female. The fat one was just out in the open, and Mhrende wanted to make first kill to hold over M'yreti.

They were about to continue forward, teacher leading his students, when Naranarti caught the scent of the oomans nearby, close by. They must be in the trees again, Naranarti thought, I wonder how long it will take those hard-headed hunters to figure it out... He was about to tell M'yreti and Mhrende to prepare themselves, considering that the scent was so scant they may never notice (he wouldn't tell them exactly where the Oomans were), when another familiar scent came flooding into Naranarti's nostrils. An equally familiar noise accompanied it. His eyes widened. He spun around and slammed himself into his students, knocking them all to the ground just as the smart-disc flew over them and slammed into a tree trunk.

Normally, it would have been dishonorable for him to have saved his students' lives, but they were not experienced enough to deal with these shameful mar'cte thwei bastards. Considering the size of their clan, he wouldn't hang a life-debt over their heads. If they survived this encounter, that is.

They all leapt up, and Naranarti aimed his plasma castor into the jungle and fired. He didn't hit him, but the shock wave grazed by the enemy and deactivated the cloaking device. A large Hish hunter toppled over and shot his burner at Naranarti, now visible to the Yautja. Naranarti dodged and fired, again. The plasma shot caught the Hish in the arm and reduced the limb into a mess of florescent green and burnt flesh. The Hish screeched in pain, its mandibles flaring from under the lip of the mask. The Hish were disgusting in appearance to Naranarti; they had overly riveted skulls, and their mandibles had an extra joint that made them curl when they spoke (Yautja only had two joints in their mandibles); extra tusks came up from inside the extention like rotting teeth. Their skin appeared as though it had been charred; a common comparison, as most Yautja joked that they looked at though they'd been set over an open flame. Large, black scales overlaid their lower skins, ranging from red to yellow-green in hues (except brown). The one Naranarti shot was a bright orange under its scales. Its black hair had merely been braided into dreadlocks like the younger females would do, which took a less painfully, cowardly ritual to accomplish (for a male).

Darts were shot out of the forest, and M'yreti fired back his own. He had observed where they were coming from and hit the Hish in the chest making it scream.

As Naranarti ducked behind a tree keeping the uncloaked Hish as his target, Mhrende yelped and fell to the ground once more, a dart stuck deep into the trapezia muscle. M'yreti called out his name and told him to get up. He said it again, and Naranarti glanced over.

Mhrende was lying very still, too still, in the dirt.

"Mhrende ka Thei-de!!" ...Mhrende is dead. M'yreti hissed then turned his attention to the dart shooter. Taking one of M'yreti's darts to the chest forced the Hish to uncloak. This one was also bright orange but was missing a lower mandible. It's hair was a dark, muddy orange though and had been pulled back into a clasp. M'yreti charged the Hish and slammed him into the ground. This Hish hadn't anticipated M'yreti's brute strength and near-Hish stature. He grabbed the other mandible with one hand and pulled at it making the Hish scream louder. With his other clawed hand, M'yreti took hold of the Hish's rivets behind the mask and pulled opposite. M'yreti would have that other mandible as a trophy, vengeance for his friend!

M'yreti was too caught up in the Kha'bj'tes L'ulij'bpe-- Berserker's Rage-- he didn't see or smell the cloaked Hish slink up behind him.

Naranarti launched at the now-single-armed Hish and slammed his fist into his neck. It made a cracking sound, and he hoped he'd broken his neck but doubted it did. The Hish were heavier boned than Yautja, and it would take several of the same hits to even crack the bone of the vertebrae or even knock them out of place-- by which point Naranarti might risk pulverizing his own knuckles.

A noise was heard behind him where M'yreti was beating the other Hish hunter. It was the shink of wristblades. Naranarti spun just in time to see M'yreti's head cut cleanly from his shoulders. Naranarti roared in rage.

Stupidly, he forgotten to kill the one-armed Hish and caught his elbow in the back of the skull hard. Naranarti rolled to the ground and stopped on his back. The blow had knocked his mask from his face, and the roll took his plasma castor off his shoulder. He was disoriented, his vision blurred by mild concussion, and the noises and voices around him echoing. A Hish stepped into his view and pressed his heel into Naranarti's throat. He was the same size as the other two, but his under-layer was a bright red and his hair an imposing gold and green-- probably synthetic in color as Hish had no care for what Paya made them to be (if She was the One who actually did). His hair was just as long as Naranarti's but was sectioned off and encased in four large, long metal tubes with intricate markings on them.

"An Arbitrator," the Hish, the one who killed M'yreti, said in a stressed astonishment. "What a trophy on my mantle you would make!"

"Ulij," the armless one called him, "It is my arm he took-- let me have my vengeance! You already have your trophy--"

"Shut your face, Lajar'un!" Ulij, the murderous piece of c'jit, hissed. "Your battle wound is enough for you. Shyeva," he ordered the one with only three (Naranarti assumed he still had his two upper ones) mandibles. "Drag your red one back to their-- I'm sorry-- our camp. Lajar'un, you will take the Arbitrator for me."

Naranarti watched Ulij crack his knuckles expecting the coward to punch him in the face, knock him unconscious. His gaze moved passed the Hish, however, and into the canopy. Up there, laying over a tangle of thin branches, five of the Oomans watched the slaughter. It was the one who'd gotten away, the older male, the younger male who reminded him of his brother (in idiocy), and the two females. The males and the non-killing female warrior watched in confusion what had happened, but the fragile, red-haired female looked down upon them in horror.

He wanted to speak to her, but Naranarti would never risk giving away their position to these monsters. He closed his eyes as the fist fell down on his face. Ju'mhi Nan'ku Jess'si'deinz.

...Stay alive, Jesse Danes.

***************************************************************************

Naranarti awoke in pain and strain. His arms were raised above his head and had spiked chains wrapped around his wrists. His legs had been pulled back with the same chains binding his ankles. He was hanging in the air at an odd angle. He felt his body bare of armor, save the armored codpiece and the netting over his chest and legs. He also felt his sandles were still attached, but he was barely certain, as his feet were becoming numb. He looked down to see the bloody mess of old bones and pieces piled against the metal pillar. They had chained him to Paya's Tusk. How dare they touch the sacred stone!? They were far from worthy to lay a hand upon such a sacred pillar-- even the Eta, the Untouchables of the Yautja, had more authority than the Hish to do such a thing. He roared a challenging battle cry and strained at the chains wanting to break them. The angle he hung, though, took away any edge he may have had.

The armless one, Lajar'un, approached with his wristblade-- his gauntlet only had one blade-- extended. He scraped it across Naranarti's chest, hard enough to hurt him but not do any true damage. "Shut your face, Yautja Arbitrator. You will have time to scream shortly." He went back to his work at skinning an Ooman-- the loud male that wore all black. Next to him laid the headless body of P'kya'uha, the Sniper, one that Naranarti had not the chance to see in action-- a disappointment. Frantic, Naranarti looked about for any of the others. Only the hanging body of the Ooman Arbitrator from earlier's kill was there aside the other two.

Good. They didn't find the others. They especially didn't find the little red-head female. He couldn't let them find her, not for anything. He would defy Paya herself to keep them from her. The idea weighed heavy on him. If they found the little Ooman scientist, then he would have failed his mission. He would have failed his sire, himself, and, worst of all, her-- Jess'si'deinz. He started to breathe heavy, his hostile musk emanating from him.

He could tell it was bothering Lajar'un; he kept looking over at Naranarti, glaring viciously, annoyed. Naranarti could see the amulet on his belt, its symbol. The Hish were from a clan called the Ress'ys. They were well known for their disgusting displays of dishonor and senseless violence. Which would explain why they attacked on what was considered neutral ground by both races. As both the Yautja and Hish used the planet for their Kv'vars, before and after war broke out, the planet was agreed to be a neutral ground between them, neither allowed to break into battle with one another. Generally, they avoided each other like Setg'in, plague, if both were on the planet at once, which was rare; Naranarti only recalling once having ran into the Hish on the hunting grounds out of the numerous, uncountable times he'd taken students there. It was only once even he'd shared the camp with another Clan let alone seen Hish near it. The planet was truly big enough for both the peoples. The Hish preferred to use the rocky terrain of the planet's equator though, enjoying the night it recieved. The south pole was rarely used unless a clan wanted to specialize in the use of thermal armor, a Kv'var Naranarti only offered once and turned into he and his best student going on safari instead. Hish activity on the northern pole was strange and unwelcoming.

Naranarti shook his head in disgust. As he did, he finally noticed the bodies of his students to the side. The skinned skull of M'yreti was laying hapazardly in a wet and smoking fire pit facing the matching body. The sight of Mhrende made Naranarti's eyes twitch in sadness and anger. Mhrende laid in the mud, the red eyes opened and staring back at him almost as though they were trying to apologyze for failing him.

No, I failed you, Naranarti thought as he hissed. He'd had such high hopes for Mhrende, and even promised the young-blood's sire he'd make a Warrior of him eventually. He wanted Mhrende to be his new, best student-- he had the drive and ambition for it. Now, Mhrende had nothing but what Paya could offer in her Halls of Judgment.

Lajar'un looked up at the Yautja and saw who he was staring at. He stood and walked over to Mhrende's body. Slowly, he sank his blade into Mhrende's abdomen. He was trilling as the phosphoric blood oozed out of the wound over his blade.

Naranarti roared again. "Ell'osde' pauk! And your mother, too!"

Lajar'un pulled his blade out of Mhrende. He stood and glared at Naranarti.

"Nevermind," Naranarti continued. "She's too fucking ugly."

There it is! The rage Naranarti was looking for. He figured Lajar'un was forbidden to harm him as Ulij, their leader (he assumed), had already claimed Naranarti's head. Maybe if he got the stubby bastard to kill him, Ulij would kill Lajar'un, and the three Yautja could meet the piece of shit in the Afterlife, Paya damning him under the hellish consequences of the angry Yautja souls.

"Come get me, mod'der pauk'ker!"

"Ki'cte!!" Ulij's voice echoed across the sternum-roof. He had stepped around the pillar and into Naranarti's view. "You're not dying that quickly, Arbitrator. You're not dying until I get answers. If I don't get them..." he paused as Shyeva threw a bound Seliklei into the mud before the pillar, under Naranarti. "Then I'll skin your mei'swhei alive, slowly. And it won't matter. Even if the little sucker dies, we'll eventually figure it out."

Naranarti glared at him. "What. Do. You. Want."

"Don't tell him anything, mei'sw--!!" Seliklei tried to yell but received a swift kick in the gut by Lajar'un, knocking the air out of him.

Ulij motioned for them to hang Seliklei from the sternum-roof. They shoved hooks into his shins, between his bones, making Seliklei yelp and screech in pain. Naranarti's eyes twitched as he watched and listened. He hissed and growled. They pulled on the chains, and his brother was hoisted upside-down like prey.

"Don't say anything..." Seliklei whispered through his mandibles, straining from the pain in his legs and the blood suddenly rushing to the tip of his skull. "Ell's Dhi'ra...Yin'tek... Mei... U'sl'kwe..." Your silence will honor my final rest...

"He won't think that when we start peeling," Ulij trilled. "Now, Arbitrator, we took a tour of your ship. I noticed your computer systems were neatly secured. Did you set that up yourself-- of course, you did; you're a very intelligent Arbitrator. But, because of your customization, we were not able to tour the information held within. Now Kalei'ta'di, would you tell me how to unlock your computer systems?"

Naranarti didn't even give the twisted fucker the pleasure of a sneer or hiss at being called a feminine term of endearment, something a Warrior would call his mate if he were requesting something. He stared at Ulij with eyes of hatred.

Ulij's sarcastic manner dropped, his face staring back at Naranarti like stone. He turned and approached Seliklei, pushing Shyeva out of his way. He reached a clawed hand up to Seliklei's kneecap and started sawing over the micro-scaled flesh. Seliklei hissed in pain and worried anticipation of what would happen next once Ulij got under his skin, literally. The Hish warrior pushed his talons under the skin and turned to stare into Naranarti's eyes. Locked into a gaze, he ripped downward pulling a long, thick strip of Seliklei's flesh from his thigh. Seliklei screeched in pain, a high pitched roar that sounded a mix of a rabbit and a lion dying in agony.

Naranarti couldn't help but shudder. His stomach flexed and stopped him from retching. He couldn't look away though; he wouldn't look away. He wouldn't dishonor his brother like that. If he must, then he would watch him die, and he would let the horror imprint into his mind until vengeance could quiet his personal hell.

"The password," Ulij hissed. "What is it?"

Nothing.

Ulij reached over to the other knee and did the same.

Naranarti grit his teeth and pulled in his mandibles in quiet defiance. His eyes narrowing, filling with fire as he watched.

"Password. Say it."

Never.

Ulij reached to both thighs and pulled more strips of flesh away, ending it at the hip bones. "Tear him to pieces until the Arbitrator talks," Ulij commanded his hunters. He walked over to a rib-wall, sat down and leaned against it, relaxing as Naranarti had done earlier. He watched Naranarti with a grin on his face. He believed the Arbitrator would eventually talk to, at least, end his brother's suffering, give him an honorable death and all that rotten mess. Stupid Yautja and their musty traditions and rituals. Ulij mused that the Arbitrator probably had a fit when he realized he was hanging from their sacred pillar, some r'jet c'jit representation of the goddess' tooth.

Pauk Paya.

Naranarti did not keep Ulij's gaze. Once the Hish had left his line of sight, Naranarti was left only to watch his brother's pain and suffering. The longer he stared, the quieter Seliklei became, the greener he appeared. Finally, there was absolute silence. At first it seemed that Seliklei had just stopped screaming, but Naranarti could no longer hear the sound of flesh leaving the muscle and bone. He had fallen into Zazin, his center. But it wasn't the good Zazin, it was murderous, vengeful violence pulsing from the center of his heart. If this wasn't going to make a mar'cte thwei of him, nothing in the Universe would.

A wet sensation on his shoulder broke the Zazin. He realized Seliklei had either slipped into Dhi'ki'de-- a coma-- or was plainly thei-de. He assumed thei-de, as the smell of his brother's hostility and anguish had grown stale in the air. He slowly twisted his head to look upon his shoulder where it had become wet. A tiny water droplet glistened in the sunlight.

Ulij through his hand up after seeing Naranarti turn away. "Ki'cte," he said. "Is he dead?" He couldn't tell; he lost the scent of the Yautja musk long before the screaming ended. Hish had decreased senses due to their chaotic and unfocused behavior and lifestyles-- but they'd never admit that.

Naranarti ignored them. He inhaled the scent of what he thought was rain, something he rarely got to experience on the planet, as the seasons never coincided, but enjoyed on those rare occasions.

But it wasn't rain. It smelled all too like salty and organic fluids...Oomans! He inhaled the scent deeper, focusing on the Ooman trace in the liquid.

Jess'si'deinz!! He had observed her in bouts of sadness on her homeworld, her eyes tearing up and the liquid leaking down her cheeks and off her chin to plummet onto her knees or to the ground. Was she crying? Was she sad for them?!

But what if she started making the noise, too, the wailing sound that had generally accompanied her crying? He had to do something. He knew the Hish sensory capabilities were too dull to smell her, but could they hear her?

Paya, Seliklei, forgive me...

"He's dead," Lajar'un replied to his master.

"Well, how sad," Ulij sneered.

"Mesh'in'ga."

All three Hish jerked their heads to stare upon Naranarti.

"The password is 'Dream'," Naranarti said in a struggled voice.

"Oh, but Arbitrator," Ulij said in the same sarcastic compassion. "Your brother is already dead. But I thank and honor you for giving us the password." He trilled wickedly.

"Just cut him down and burn his body," Naranarti replied. "That is my only request--"

"Oh, of course! When we come back from your ship and extract all the information on your Clan, we'll cut your brother down, lay him gently under your sacred pillar and set him on fire and watch the two of you burn. Maybe I'll get lucky, and you'll become more vocal as you burn alive!" Ulij trilled his laughter maniacally. The three left, Shyeva twisting the corpse on its hook.

He waited in silence for them to disappear, the cackling taper to silence. "That is my only request," he picked up the sentence that Ulij had so disgustingly interrupted. "If you want the second half of the password..."
*****

They had quietly traveled along the canopy towards the the camp Samadi had ran from. They had watched their attackers get their asses kicked by some larger aliens, not so different in appearance but were distinct from each other. They followed them as they dragged the two dead students and the unconscious teacher to the camp site. It took the little band of humans longer as they were trying to go completely undetected. It had taken them so long, unfortunately, that they witnessed two of the new hunters leave and return dragging two other corpses with it.

Donnelson and a headless Lou.

"They shouldn't have stayed behind," the Colonel had murmured.

They continued on until they were right above the sternum of a giant skeleton. It was a magnificently sordid sight. To Samadi, the camp was in utter disarray compared to what he had left, items and bones broken and scattered about. The bodies piled in a loose manner, they started to attract small insects and other tiny scavengers. After tossing Donnelson and Lou to the ground infront of the armless one, words were spoken and they left the single-armed hunter to peal their friends like apples.

A roar startled them. Had they been spotted?!

No. The teacher, "Tresses", was chained nearly naked and defenseless to the strange pillar. They watched as words were exchanged, and then the armless one roared at him. It was stopped by the return of the other two, bringing with them another hunter-alien. This one did not look like the newcomers, short and smooth-skinned like the others, and certainly could not have been a friend, as he was tied and thrown infront of the teacher.

Samadi squinted as he looked upon the small, bound alien. It was not wearing armor but blue cloth worn in the same manner and fashion as the hunters' armor. Its skin was much greener than the others. But its eyes...

Suddenly, the more hostile aliens grabbed up the little green one and shoved hooks into its shins. They hung it from a part of the sternum; at the angle, they could see the green one hanging upside down. Words came from the large red one, the newcomers' leader it seemed. When he received no reply, he approached the little green one and ripped skin from its legs.

The Colonel covered Jesse's mouth from an audible gasp. Even Rina had to turn away. They shook as the green alien screamed a blood-curdling noise. It happened several more times until the leader ordered his subordinates to continue the skinning process. All had continued to watch the horror show except Jesse who had ducked and hid her face in the Colonel's lap, biting down on a cargo pocket to keep from screaming, the Colonel petting her hair and calling her "Ashley." It was like a train-wreck or a plane-crash or a bus of children sinking into a river; too horrific to describe but too awing to look away.

"Either they are fucking sick," Trevor whispered. "Or they're torturing him for some reason."

Samadi snatched his vision to Trevor. "Wait," he said in the same level of whisper, "Trevor. You were a criminal. What was it you did?"

"I was a button for the mafia in Atlanta. They had me take folks out and torture them until they talked." Generally, he would say it proudly, but today, he felt a sickening shame come over him. It had been a long time since he'd felt that way... Hello, Conscience. How are the kids?

"So say you wanted a rival gang's leader to talk, what would you do?"

Trevor thought for a moment. He'd never done anything like that personally, but it had happened before. "Well, we'd harm his family, threaten his kids, his spouse, his folks, his siblings--"

Samadi interrupted him. "That green one and 'Tresses'," he said with quiet intensity. "They have the same eyes. Whether brothers or father and son, they are relative-- they must be."

"They're torturing the teacher, not the little guy," Rina reiterated. "But why?"

"Who knows..." Trevor finally looked away. He saw the trembling Jesse laying over the Colonel's lap. Not wanting to look at the mess below-- maybe he'd seen enough torture for his life-- he reached over and focused on rubbing Jesse's back, counting the bumps of her vertebrae, trying to get a pattern down to help calm both her and him.

After a long while, the screaming stopped. Trevor looked back over. The green-guy (now greener and florescent) had stopped moving and twitching.

Jesse pushed herself up, also aware of the silence, ignoring the protesting hands of her friends-- those that she'd come to see as her friends. She slowly leaned over to see what had happened, Rina sitting next to her now. The green alien was glowing a fluorescent, neon green from its blood. It wasn't moving, even though the other two kept pulling at it ravenously.

"Is he dead?" Jesse asked Rina.

Rina put an arm around her. Even she felt pity and sympathy for the beings. "Yes, it's dead. He's gone now; it's over."

Jesse couldn't help but sob a little bit. She did so silently-- she could control it. Tears fell down her cheeks like someone had turned the water on from a faucet. Rina held her tighter.

Suddenly, "Tresses" spoke. A hush fell over the camp, and the human group held their breaths. "Tresses" spoke again, but the red one interrupted. It laughed and so did the others, and it lead them away from the camp.

Jesse took the mask from Samadi's pack and looked through it towards the group of heinous aliens. She watched them disappear into the jungle, their red-hot forms barely visible through their cloaks. Once certain, they were far away, and having ignored what the others were talking about, she held tight onto the branch. She took a deep breath and let her body drop.

"Jesse!"

"Fuck my life-- Jesse!"

The others weren't screaming, fearful they might be heard, but hissed their warnings and demands through grit teeth and intense whispers.

"I got this," she said trying to assure them. She released her grip of the branch and fell to another. She caught it. "See, I got this." She continued to do it for two more branches with simple ease. The others had started to follow her, Rina in the same manner and doing so more swiftly than the others for obvious reasons. Then Jesse's hand slipped on a knot in the branch, and she plummeted to the bone structure. Her back landed on the top of the sternum with a painful thud.

"Okay, maybe I don't got this..."

"[The fuck?]" Naranarti hissed. He had heard the racket the Oomans were making once the Hish had left, but he couldn't hear what exactly they had been saying. What were they doing? Trying to end it quick by falling to their deaths?

Jesse's form dropped slowly from the ribs, her back facing Naranarti. She was holding on tightly to a single rib, but her fingers were slowly slipping. Her feet were at least four feet from the ground.

"Jess'si'deinz!!"

Jesse looked over her shoulder to see "Tresses" staring at her in shock, mandibles partially spread and dangling like her-- his jaw had dropped in surprise, is what she could gather. Her assumptions from earlier had been correct, though. He had said her name. "Um...hi..." she said. He tilted his head at her. Both looked up at her hands and watched them slide off the rib. She fell on her ass with another "umph!" and the alien hissed. It wasn't so much a hostile hiss but a warning. It was strange she could tell the difference. The others joined her on the ground in a more graceful manner.

As infuriated at her as he was for not fleeing the area for safety, he did find it mildly amusing, the comical abuse her little frail form was taking just to get to the ground. "[What the fuck are you Oomans doing?!]" He hissed at them. He might be able to understand their language, but he hadn't practiced speaking it much.

They looked up at him, Jesse and Samadi seeming to be the only ones straining to understand him. The Colonel ignored it. "Rina, let's find some more of their weapons. Maybe we can use them against those bastards and save our asses before we end up like Donnelson and Lou."

Rina nodded. "Mop-head, check through the pile of Donnelson and Lou's clothing. See if you can recover their guns."

" 'Kay," he spun to head over to their bodies but stopped short as he saw the dripping body of the smaller alien. Near it was a small satchel. He opened it up and inside were little spheres with littler buttons on them. When he looked back, he saw Jesse surveying the area more. He ran to block her sight. "No, no, no, girl, don't look over here--"

"[Don't look!]" Naranarti barked seeing Jesse was about to peer at his brother's corpse.

She saw the close-up horror the aliens had done to the little one. She spun back around and clasped her hands over her mouth. "Omigod, omigod, omigod."

"[You shouldn't have looked...]"

Samadi looked up at "Tresses" once again, his eyes narrowing quizzically. "Its--its talking to you...I think?" he said to Jesse.

"Shit...I think you're right..." Trevor the Mop-head said. He pulled one of the spheres out of the satchel. "Hey, big-guy," he addressed Naranarti. "Are these bombs? You know, explosives?"

Naranarti easily understood him. "Sei'i," he said nodding. "[You damn right. One of those will make your mother go into labor.]"

Trevor grinned. "I got the 'yes'. Didn't get the rest of it, but I bet you're tryin' to tell me these will piss them psycho-bastards off, won't they? Found my weapon," he called to the others.

Jesse looked up at the "Tresses". She looked him over, seeing him in a different light-- metaphorically and literally. Two long scars ran parallel down from the top of his forehead to just above his mouth, intriguing and characterizing. Another scar in a design, possibly purposeful, sat center between them just over his brow. His skin was an alluring color, and she wanted to reach out and trace her hand over him to appease her curiosity, maybe more than that. He was a captive hero in need of a returned favor. His scant attire made him seem more the Adonis-figure than she'd first mused him as even with the appendage-like mandibles, and she blushed at the realization that she was staring. Luckily, no one noticed save Tresses himself. He seemed to be blushing too, the color on his upper mandibles and forehead turned a light green. Awkward... But he needs me!

"[What are you doing?!]" he hissed at Jesse as she ran up to the pillar and around the back. She started pulling on chains. "[Oh...there's a latch-- open it,]" he directed her, of course only realizing too late none of the Oomans could understand him. He growled low to clear his throat, so he could attempt to speak their simple-- yet physically abrasive-- language.

"What are you doing!?" Trevor yelled at her.

"Quiet!" Naranarti hissed at the loud one.

Trevor starred at him agape. "Did he... he just..." was all he could manage in a whisper.

The Colonel and Rina had been rummaging through the dead aliens. The Colonel took the shoulder cannons and gauntlets from "Stripes." Rina had started on "Red" when she noticed something odd about him. Though his eyes were glazed over and he was stiff as a board, he was still warm and the scavengers had left him alone. She reached her fingers and pressed against his neck. His skin was clammy and hot under the crease, but she never felt a pulse. He was dead...but it was so strange...

The commotion by the pillar got their attention.

"Holy mother of God! Ashley, what are you doing, child?!" the Colonel started to approach.

"He saved me once before," Jesse said struggling with the chains. She looked over and saw a large, blunt metal weapon on the ground. It looked more like a broken piece of weapon, but it might do the trick. She picked it up and lifted it over her head. "I'm just returning the favor!" She brought it crashing down, the chains snapping from the momentum.

Naranarti's feet swung forward, and he dangled from the pillar. "C'jit!"

Samadi grabbed his side instinctively and stopped "Tresses" from swinging. Naranarti looked down at him and tossed his head back. Samadi heaved him backwards towards the pillar where his feet could touch the ground. Naranarti suddenly picked up the scent of the Hish. He growled and hissed a warning for them to hide, but they didn't understand.

"Alright," Jesse raised the weapon, "Now for the arms-- YAHHHHH!!!" She felt her body being lifted from the ground by the weapon.

"RUN!" Naranarti yelled at them, one of the few words that took little effort to say. He hadn't realized Ulij already had a hold of Jesse.

Lajar'un launched his spear at Samadi and caught the Ooman in the chest, making him go flying into a tree, impaled and coughing up blood before dying, the aorta and spine cut through completely.

Rina and the Colonel drew their weapons and started firing at the invisible beings. The Colonel had managed to figure out how to turn on the alien shoulder cannon. He saw the manual trigger and pulled. The blast sent him flying backwards. The blue plasma beam, however, hit its mark.

Lajar'un fell backwards into a mass of sparks and green blood, the cloaking device obliterated revealing his twitching corpse, a hole the size of his own skull in his chest. Leaping over him and uncloaking, Shyeva slammed the blunt side of his combi-staff into Trevor's abdomen, slinging him into Seliklei's and Flynn's bodies before rolling to the ground. Shyeva charged towards Rina. He struck down with his combi-staff at her. She rolled and pivoted, but he was too fast and caught her in the back with another swing. The hit threw her painfully into the Yautja bodies. Before he could stab at her, she pulled the bladed gauntlet off M'yreti. When he brought it down, she sliced sideways and chopped the combistick into three pieces.

Ulij slung Jesse to the ground in front of Naranarti. He was pissed. When he entered the password for the Yautja ship's computer system, they discovered it was a trap. Though the ship itself was not going to explode like they had originally worried, the Neyen'ku Clan had been alerted to the violation. Not only were they aware of the attempted infiltration, but the clan had begun its information retrieval process. This meant any recordings the Yautja masks picked up, the Neyen'ku had them, and they were know aware that Ulij's party was of the Ress'ys Clan. Any unexpected retaliation from them would be ultimately blamed on him. His people would do to him what he did to Seliklei...only it would take longer for him to die...

"[I'm shocked, Arbitrator,]" Ulij said, slowly approaching the Ooman female. "[I didn't think you would actually lie to us; it's such a wicked and dishonorable thing to do. But I guess partial truths don't count, do they?"]

Naranarti pulled his shoulders forward and pulled his feet into the pillar. He had to break the chains on his wrists. The good news, he had the angle to at least attempt. The bad news, he didn't know if he could break them in time to save Jesse. If he had to tear his own hands off, then he would to keep that S'yuit'des claws off her. He dug his heels in the pillar and flexed his wrists to their limits, then thrusting his shoulders outward, he pulled his arms apart. Cli'tink!

Trevor had recovered, but his guns had been thrown into the shrubbery where he couldn't see. He looked up to see Ulij. "No! Jesse!!" he looked over to where The Colonel was recovering. "Rick!" When the Colonel looked over to him, Trevor pointed. "S'got Jesse!! Shoot it!!"

The Colonel pointed the shoulder cannon and pulled the trigger, but no dice. Then he saw the three lights on the side. They blinked then cut off. The shoulder cannon was dead.

"[I wonder how long this female Ooman will last without her skin--]"

Jesse watched as Ulij towered over her. He extended wrist blades and made a trilling noise after he'd finished speaking. His skin like cooled lava made her think of some kind of demon. Maybe she was wrong about the Universe... Then she saw "Tresses"--Naranarti-- leap into the air with a taloned hand ready to strike down upon Ulij.

An audible crack and Ulij's head whiplashing to the side interrupted his train of thought. He fell to the ground, feeling the warm blood leaking from the backside of his head. Naranarti's roar signified who'd struck him. Before he could get up, Naranarti grabbed him by the ankles and in a quick run slung him through the air. Ulij screeched in surprise as he slammed into Shyeva, his subordinate yelping as he hit the ground.

Rina jumped up when the two Hish went flying and stumbled away from the bodies. She looked over to Naranarti, standing over Jesse defensively. He pointed aggressively towards the forest where they had came from originally. She understood. "Run! Go, go, go!!" she yelled to them all.

Trevor didn't need to be told twice. He spun on his heels and took off into the jungle, not giving a damn where they were supposed to end up.

Rina knew Naranarti wouldn't hurt Jesse. This would make the second-- technically third-- time he'd saved her. She trusted he'd get her, and so she started running through the jungle.

The Colonel didn't trust him, though, and began to run for Jesse, but Naranarti dug an arm under the shaking, scared woman and lifted her into his grasp. The Colonel stopped then twisted about and ran for the jungle. Naranarti ran passed him. The alien slowed and let the Colonel catch up beside him. "Jesse! You alright?!" the Colonel asked.

She was holding onto Naranarti facing behind him. His arm was nearly the length from her shoulder to her knee, so he held her with simple ease like a ragdoll, her legs dangling behind his back and his claws digging into her ribcage careful not to cut. His forearm supported her back so she could watch behind them as the camp got smaller in the distance. She looked over to the Colonel and nodded. When she looked to her front-- their rear-- she saw the two Hish running out of the encampment. "They're coming!!!"

Naranarti needed to run faster to get Jesse to safety, but the old male was too slow. He'd have to leave him behind. He sped up and started passing the Colonel.

"Rick!!" Jesse reached out to him as they sped away.

"C'jit! [Really?!]" Naranarti hissed. Jesse was wailing about how he was leaving the Colonel behind and how he needed to slow down or they'd lose him. "[Fine...]" He slowed up again. This time he reached his other arm out to the Colonel. "[You're not going to like this, old-one!]"

The Colonel didn't know what to think, but he grabbed the arm anyway. Naranarti slung him in front of him, then grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him forward. The Colonel yelled, kicking his legs in the air, as he went flying several yards forward. He landed in a roll and recovered faster than he expected and contined his run. He predicted that he'd discover extreme pain when they were out of danger and the adrenaline slowed down. He glanced behind him. Naranarti was a good ways behind him but closing in fast. He'd have to pick up the pace if he didn't want to get tosed again-- he was in shape but still old. At least he'd caught up to Rina.

"[There!]" he hissed at Jesse. "[Happy!?]"

"They're getting closer!" Jesse had grabbed onto some of his hair, squeezing in terror as the Hish closed in on them. She let out a shrill scream as blue plasma was shot at them, hitting the trees they ran passed. Naranarti serpentined a bit.

Several more blue plasma blasts shot by them. One caught Trevor in the leg. He fell to the ground screaming.

"No!!" Rina skid to a hault and slammed into the dirt beside him trying to pick him up.

"Trevor!!" Jesse screamed as they passed by them. "No! Trevor!! Come back! We can't leave him!!"

"Go!--" Trevor said crying out between words. "I got this! Go, Rina!" He held up the satchel of bombs. "Go."

Rina pressed a kiss to his mouth and took off running. He didn't expect that, but at least, he'd die a hero who kissed the girl. He reached his hand into the bag and started pushing down on the buttons. "Come get me, assholes. I got presents for ya."

Rina started tearing up. Just as she started to warm up to Mop-he-- Trevor, he was going to die. But he wouldn't die in vain, and he won't die without at the very least wounding one of those fuckers.

Ulij cared not about the fallen Ooman-- he wanted the Arbitrator. He jumped over Trevor and kept running. Shyeva, who'd been the one to shoot the Ooman, slowed to step up to it. He'd have a good kill of this one. He trilled as he saw it was unarmed, helpless.

"Hey," Trevor said with heavy effort. He tossed the bag up to him. He didn't expect him to catch the thing, but he did.

Shyeva held the satchel. It looked familiar... Was this some sort of peace offering or trade? How stupid. He trilled at the Ooman-- this wouldn't save him. But curious... He opened the satchel.

Trevor grinned. "Merry Christmas, bitch."

Shyeva's eyes widened. "Pauk!"
*****

The shock wave behind Ulij knocked him down into the mud. He didn't know what the hell it was from. At first, he thought there was an attack from the sky-- were the Yautja clans attacking, already? He cloaked and scanned the skies for any ships, his plasma castor ready to fire.

Nothing.

He looked back to his prey. Pauk! They were already a great distance ahead of him, turning into colorful specks in his mask's view. He was liable to lose them, now! He continued to run after them, though it was futile.

"Pauk! Ell'sode pauk, Arbitrator!!"

*****

The explosion made Jesse bury her head into Naranarti's neck. She knew what had happened, she remembered the bombs Trevor had. She prayed and thanked him in her mind, sending him silent love and gratitude she had trouble describing to herself. When she looked up, she heard the loud roaring of the other Hish in the far distance.

They were starting to lose them!

The Colonel had looked back at the explosion too. He started laughing and hollered. "Hoo-AH!! That's my boy, Trevor! Take them fuckers out! That's the bravery of a real soldier--- FUCK!" He slid to a hault as he passed right through the same thornbushes Jesse had crossed into earlier. He stared down the cliff trying to regain his balance. He leaned back and called out over his shoulder. "We made a wrong turn!" He saw Naranarti wasn't slowing down.

He turned around and waved his hands about. "Hey! The cliff!"

Naranarti put his hand out. If he wasn't going to jump on his own...

"Whoa--whoa--whoa--AHHHHHHHHH!!!"

Naranarti slammed into the Colonel, shoving him off the cliff about three meters out. The Colonel went freefalling backwards. Naranarti pushed off the cliff's edge and jumped out about the same distance. He focused on keeping his feet infront and below him, cringing as Jesse's blood-curdling, high-pitched scream destroyed his ears.

Rina saw the three jump off the cliff. She would have stopped dead, but she had to consider Naranarti may know the area an infinite times better than they did. If he believed they could survive the jump, then most likely they could. Even if they didn't, the alternative was to get skinned alive by those freak-aliens.

"Oh-god-oh-god-oh-god," she chanted as she closed in on the cliff. She leapt off the edge and kicked her legs in the air trying to get as much distance out as they had. She let her legs point out below her like a needle and she dropped with incredible speed, almost catching up to Jesse's horrible screams.

The first to hit the water were Naranarti and Jesse. They disappeared under the dark blue surface. Next the Colonel, then Rina. The Colonel had luckily straightened his body out and splashed feet first. They came to the surface huffing and weazing, the water so cold their bodies seemed to be squeezed by the temperature. The water was moving fast. The Colonel grabbed hold of Rina's arm so they wouldn't get seperated in the current. "Need to get to the shore," he yelled pointing to the rocky shore on the opposite side of were they'd jumped.

Holding on to each other made it more difficult, but they managed to get to the shore. Once he pulled Rina out of the water, the Colonel cupped his hands and called for...

"Ashley!! Ashley!!"

Rina ran up to him and cupped her hand over his mouth. Had he lost his fucking mind!? "Stop, Rick," she hissed. "Those things will hear you, and then we're all fucked."

The Colonel blinked and looked at her confused. He shook himself. "You're right; I don't know what the hell I was doing. I was panicking is what I was doing..."

Rina looked around the river's shore. When she looked up to the waterfall, she could have swore she saw movement at its base. Then "Tresses" stepped to the side of the falling water, Jesse still in his arm clutching tight to his hair. He was wearig the mask Jesse had been messing with earlier slightly lopsided as it was too small. "There they are-- come on!"

Naranarti would wait for them. He could hear Jesse's breathing and feel the hot air on his shoulder. It was a nice feeling over the scales, shinking from the cold and breaking the layers of skin, blood beginning to seep out of his pores. She was shaking, either from cold or fear, and her heart beat could be felt throughout her body, throbbing on his arm and side.

There was a cave behind the waterfall, and the chill of the water would hide their heat-signatures. In fact, Ulij most likely underestimated Naranarti's ability to handle such cold that he wouldn't expect them to be down there. Ulij would most definently not follow, as Hish were three times suseptible to the cold as Yautja. The cold of the water would cause any Hish to black-out on impact.

He had the mask on mainly over his eyes. He didn't need it yet to breathe, but he needed it to scan the cliffside for Ulij-- he'd heard his rage after the explosion. He watched and waited until he could hear the Oomans' heavy breathing get closer. Ulij had not made it to the cliff, and thus must not have seen them on the shore. They were safe, for now. He turned and started heading behind the waterfall.

"Hey, hey!" The Colonel called out and ran up on Naranarti. "The hell you think you're doing with her!?"

"Colonel!" Rina tried to stop him from getting his ass kicked.

When the Colonel tried to reach out to Jesse, Naranarti grabbed him under his throat and slammed him into the rock-facing, hissing his warnings. "[Back off, Ooman!]"

Rina jumped over the rocks to them. She could see the look on Jesse's face, cold, blank stare and shaking uncontrollably-- she was in shock. "Okay, men," she tried speaking calmly. "None of us are idiots here, otherwise we'd be dead already. Now, I'm going to take a wild guess that neither of you want Jesse to get hurt. You want to protect her? Don't fight over it, then."

Things were very still for a long moment. Then Naranarti let the Colonel's neck go. The female was right; they had a similar goal, and he wasn't going to fight over who got to protect his Jess'si'deinz.

The Colonel nodded at Naranarti, and spoke with defeat. "She's right. You're probably the better one to be watching out for her, anyway."

It sounded sad as he said it, to Naranarti even. It hit him then; the old male was a father-figure to Jesse, as Oomans had very close-knit family structures. In most his observations, the parent favored the offspring of the opposite sex giving extra coddling and attention. Maybe Azsh'li was some kind of term of endearment for "daughter."

Naranarti nodded back at the Colonel. As a sign of good faith, he turned his back to them and set Jesse on her feet facing them. He released her waist when he was certain she was stable. As he started to straighten, his head was pulled back down towards her. He let out a short, gasping snarl of surprise.

"Oh, shit, Jesse," Rina said approaching her. "Honey, let go of his hair."

Naranarti leaned down and twisted to see Jesse was holding a large amount of his dreadlocks and beads in a tight grasp. Then he saw her face. He knelt down and touched her face with the back of his fingers.

"She's in shock," Rina told him.

He didn't understand fully; he knew what the state of "shock" was, but generally, shock was fast and disappated after a short moment. Could the condition become... stuck? Pauk mei'tekai, he sighed. Why do I always favor the 'broken' ones? He picked Jesse up, this time cradling her in both arms. He leaned his head towards the cave.

They looked up and saw the small mouth of the cave hidden by large rocks and the waterfall. "Sumbitch," the Colonel said with a grin. "He did know what he was doing."

The three headed into the cave, Naranarti leading the way, able to see by the mask. He could feel Rina holding his dreadlocks now, occasionally stumbling over loose rocks. He slowed and steadied his stride for them, and he let Jesse's waist crease more, bringing his arms in to keep her head against his chest and not in danger of smacking against the wall. The Colonel had a hand on Rina's shoulder, and occasionally Naranarti could hear them whispering to one another, but he did not pay attention.

Finally, he brought them to his hidden safe-house he'd set up several seasons ago in case things got too hostile. He could remember when he decided to set it. After he had his first run-in with Hish hunters on the planet, he had started having nightmares of failing his students for trusting the Hish to keep neutral. He would dream of his packs getting slaughtered by Hish Warriors and Soldiers. It was unsettling, that kind of failure. He was an Elite-- and an Arbitrator-- and as such, he owed it to his students and clan to be prepared for the worst. He'd found the perfect place while tracking prey who'd figured out how to boat down the river. He had his students test his theories: the water was too cold to see through, not too cold to kill them, but too cold for a Hish. He'd figured out the right supplies to keep there, and before every hunt, before they even exited the ship, he'd tell them that if things got out of hand, their new base would be in a cave behind a waterfall. This cave was where they would meet to decide the next steps for irradicating the threat.

But this time, he had no students left to meet him there. He would have to fight this one on his own-- finally, like the Arbitrator he was!

Naranarti led Rina and the Colonel to the far end of the cavern room. "Stay," he said to them, another easy word to say.

"He speaks English?" the Colonel asked in amazement.

"I imagine. Did you learn any Persian before going into Iran?" Rina whispered.

Naranarti set Jesse down on the ground next to him. She seemed to be coming out of her "shock," as she looked about in mild confusion; she still held onto his hair though, probably not realizing it herself just yet. They were in the center of the room-- it being about ten feet long, wide and tall-- where he had set the crate of supplies. He pulled off the lid. On top of everything was a Forever Light. It was a smokeless, heat-emitting lamp that was powered by the same plasma from their plasma castors. This made it work for fifty days straight and have an infinite shelf-life when not activated. It was rare that there was a dud, but he had three in the crate as a precaution.

With a loud click, the cave illuminated in a blue light, startling the others. Naranarti set down the dish-sized, dome lamp next to Jesse, who finally let go of his hair, apologizing in her soft tone. They watched him rummage through a metal box pulling out odds and ends of tech they'd never seen before. He went ahead and removed his mask, finding a small breather in the box. He inhaled through it deep and then set it aside.

"About that suffocation thing," the Colonel whispered to Rina.

Naranarti easily heard them. His eyes glanced over to them, but he made no other movements to indicate he was listening. He could also see Jesse watching him while leaning her hands to the light; she could feel the warmth radiating from it. Oomans and their poor eyesight needed the light to see without stumbling all over the place. He grabbed another light and turned it on. He tossed it to her-- didn't really believe she'd catch it, but the things were near-indestructable save him body-slamming it into the rocks. She caught it though, holding it in mild wonder.

"It's warm," she told her comrads. "And doesn't burn." She clutched the thing to her chest and her shivering stopped.

"Be sure to share the wealth when you're done," Rina said. She returned her attention to the Colonel. "I don't think its been enough time, but the exertion might have done it."

"And the blood?" He was refering to the collection of green webs over the being's skin.

"They're subseptibe to extreme cold. Those hypothermic temperatures might have had something to do with it."

"Then why would he jump right into the river if he knew it'd hurt him?"

Rina watched him for a long moment before answering the Colonel. "I think he knew he'd get hurt, and maybe he hopes the other won't follow because of the same reason. I think this guy is somekind of 'tough-as-nails' sort of leader-- I bet you know the type."

"Could be," the Colonel admitted. "I'm just certainly glad he's not trying to kill us anymore."

"He never was," Rina corrected. "He was just the teacher, remember. It was the other two. I just hope there's no permanent damage to him from the cold. Would really like his help to survive this bullshit."

"It's hard for me to sympathize with a race of beings who hunt and kill us for sport."

Naranarti paused his rummaging at the statement but didn't look up.

Jesse had heard what he said. Her tone was quite matter-of-fact. She'd heard similar things said about other peoples while in school. "Humans have been killing each other for millenia and for less reasons. We strive to irraticate ourselves in some manner, and according to what you've said, Rina, these guys haven't even knocked a dent into our human-ecosystem. I don't find it difficult to sympathize. It's a human quality, and one which may not end with us considering he's saved us from those beings."

Naranarti trilled lightly; didn't matter what species or race, all females are more intelligent than males. At the very least, much wiser. He pulled out what he was looking for. A small medical kit he'd put together of non-perishable supplies. In it was a bottle of C'ntlip, very aged. It wasn't for drinking though. The older the wine was, the more healing properties it had when applied to the exterior. The heat from the lamps alone wouldn't dilate the scales of his skin. He grabbed the bottle and a leather rag. Opening the bottle was mildly startling-- oh, what a waste to not drink it. The scent was almost intoxicating itself, but he had to ignore the desire to drink it. He poured into the rag and let it absorb. He slapped the rag over one of his arms and let it sit there. It stung, but not badly, then started to warm very quickly.

The smell reminded Jesse of lingunberry wine. She didn't know what he had put on his arms, but it seemed to be doing the trick for healing his skin. He'd pull the rag away, ring it out, put more of the liquid into it, and throw it over another area. The arm he'd had the rag on first seemed to stop bleeding. He only did this to his arms and his back. He ringed out the rag and set it on the edge of the crate. He moved to a wall near the exit and leaned his back against it. He let his head loll to the side and rested his eyes.

"You think it's a good idea to sleep?" Rina said to him.

Naranarti didn't even open his eyes. He had to strain to say the words right. "Here. Safe. Sleep now. Or sleep never."

The insinuation was fairly obvious: rest or lose the chance. They hadn't been found, yet and might not for a good while. Fact was, when they were discovered, being well rested might give them back the reflexes they needed. Jesse went ahead, after handing off the heat lamp to Rina, and curled up near the crate to sleep as best she could. Rina approached her.

"You're clothes are wet," she said nudging Jesse. "You don't need to be wearing them to sleep. Take them off and I'll set them out by the lamp to dry." Rina's own clothes were made of water-proof synthetic materials and had dried the moment they got out of the water. But Jesse was wearing all cotton.

The Colonel sat down and faced the wall when he heard the talk of Jesse undressing. She wouldn't have cared, but she appreciated it. She didn't think the hunter-alien would care much, him wearing nothing but fishnets and a metal banana-hamock. She undressed with slight difficulty, her jeans not wanting to cooperate, and went back to rest after thanking Rina. Rina laid the clothes out around the heat lamp. The Colonel turned back around and leaned against the wall. He let himself relax a bit. Rina sat next to him.

"So, Rick," she whispered. "Who is 'Ashley'?"

The Colonel looked at her in surprise. He didn't know how Rina knew about her, but, it didn't matter much now, did it? "Ashley is..." he started to speak, but he felt the weight of reality on him. "Ashley was my daughter. She died last year in a car accident."

Rina's face creased. She didn't mean to bring something like that to the surface. "I'm sorry."

There was another silence.

"Did I mention her? Say her name at any time?" he finally asked.

"A few times."

"Figures. Didn't matter what I told myself, I wasn't ready to move on after she died. I guess going into Iran was a way to let it go-- maybe if I got lucky... but I didn't want my men dying because of me, so I wasn't giving up yet, I suppose."

"That's very unselfish of you, Colonel," Rina commented. She saw him shiver. Then he gasped, and his head jerked back. "Colonel? Colonel? Rick?!"

Naranarti heard the commotion. He saw the male's body stiffen and then shake. He stood and grabbed his mask. Approaching, he knelt down and looked over the Ooman. Setting it over his eyes, he switched the heat vision to x-ray. The heart was beating at an alarming rate, and the brainvessels were constricting, one of them blocked and hemorraging.

Naranarti bowed his head. It was not a dishonorable death, but it wasn't the most desired way to go either.

"What's wrong with him?!" Rina yelled.

Jesse had been awoken by the yelling and rolled to her feet. "Oh, God, Rick! What happened?! Is he okay?! Rick," she stood over him and started asking him questions. "Can you hear me? How many fingers am I holding up?" She held out three.

"Can't... see..."

"Can you feel your arms?!"

"...Nothing...Feel...desert...trip-- what... hand..."

"He's having a stroke!"

Rina fell back from him. She looked at Naranarti. "Hey, you have any miracle-drug in that box!? Help him!"

He looked at her. He was not equipped with the surgical supplies to do anything about the brain hemorage. He bowed his head again, his mandibles tightly closed.

The Colonel stared out into the air. Jesse moved in closer and took his hands. "I got you, Rick," she whispered.

"Ashley," he said as he closed his eyes. A smile tried to spread over his mouth, but the control wasn't there anymore. "...Jesse. You stay...safe..." He moved his mouth, and she leaned in to listen. When she leaned back up, he'd stopped moving. His breathing had ceased. She laid her head against his chest and started crying.

Rina reached out and shoved Naranarti. It didn't do much, but it got his attention. He barked in irritation and stood up, but she started yelling at him before he could question in either his or their language why she'd challenged him. "Why didn't you do anything!? Why didn't you help him!? I thought you were trying to help us! Are you just going to let us die!? You did nothing-- You didn't even try!!" She hit him in the chest.

Naranarti grabbed her by the wrists and jostled her a bit. "Nothing I could do... Bleeding in his brain...I have no tools to stop bleeding inside of skulls."

Rina stared at him, her lips trembling. She let her head fall forward, and he released his grip on her wrists. She dropped her knees and sat quietly, listening to the sobs from Jesse. He was right; he couldn't help him if he had nothing to do so, not for a stroke.

Naranarti made an audible sigh. Yautja could handle being around decay and rotting messes of flesh and cadavores, but humans could not-- that was why they buried or burned their dead so quickly and even made alterations to the bodies before doing so, why they were so careful with handling dead beings of anykind. After a long moment, when the sobbing quieted, he spoke. "Dead, he cannot stay in here," he motioned to her and Jesse with his talons. "Death brings sickness after too long."

Rina looked up at him. It was true, being around a dead body could make them sick, physically and mentally. "We need to take him outside, you think?"

Naranarti had considered that, but it wasn't a good idea. "No," he pointed at himself and the two of them. "Body heat. Ulij will see us. Dangerous. I will take further into cave. Away."

She nodded.

Jesse had been listening to them. She looked up towards them. They were looking at her, waiting for her. "It's fine. It's a smart plan. Let's move him, now."

Naranarti walked over and lifted the body. He didn't expect Jesse to follow, but she took hold of his hair again and walked through another tunnel with him. Rina grabbed one of the lights and was quickly behind them. After a long walk, they came to a large room. The sound of water echoed around them-- this must be where the waterfall was fed. Naranarti slowed his pace, "Careful. Ground drops."

Rina stepped closer behind him and shown the light around him. "No kidding," she said seeing the ground end at the edge of a cliff similar to the one above ground.

Naranrti set the Colonel's body near a jagged wall next to the edge of the cliff. If he were Yautja, he would set him ablaze, but as he was not and Naranarti did not know the exact rituals for an Ooman death, he would let Rina and Jesse deal with it.

He stepped aside and let the two females pass. He noticed at this point Jesse had lost much of her clothing. He really didn't understand the point of her clothing besides modesty, not protective and didn't have pockets like the males' and the other female's clothing and armor. At least, the other female's clothes dried faster and kept her warm. What she wore now did little for modesty. His forehead blushed green, and he turned away feeling awkward, looking over his shoulder to see what they were doing.

Rina took the Colonel's hands and set them gently on his chest. "I don't think he was in any pain," she tried to say reassuringly.

"I would suppose not," Jesse replied. "Most pain is reported from rehabilitation-- nothing is reported by the dead. But I suppose any stroke, heart-attack, or aneurism is better than getting your head cut off or a hole blown through your chest."

Naranarti tried pondering this but didn't understand her reasoning. Though, there was no dishonor in dying of natural causes, there was no extra honor to it unless it was a Warrior who managed to live long enough through his prowess and abilities. Of course, the hemmorage was most likely caused by the molecular ray malfunctining; if Naranarti had left the male to his own devices on their planet, he would have either died in battle or lived his full lifespan. He'd always considered Nanaiyude would die of natural causes unless he ever felt competent enough to challenge him for leadership of the clan-- he had to admit there was a better chance of his sire dying of a stroke himself before Naranarti ever built up that much confidence; Naranarti was strong and an Arbitrator for a reason, but there were also very good reasons Nanaiyude lived as long as he had. The concern for pain seemed to be the concern to Oomans, he'd observed on various occasions. He still didn't get it-- when you're dead, the pain ends, so why care?

He thought about Seliklei and shook. Nevermind.

Jesse kissed Rick's forehead and squeezed his hands. Rina leaned over and took the set of dogtags from around his neck. She removed one and laced the chain around Jesse's neck. She took Jesse's shoulders making her stand and turned her so her back was facing Rick. Rina leaned back down, pulled open his jaw, and pressed the dogtag between his teeth; she closed his mouth and turned to Jesse. Jesse knew what she was doing, and had to admit, it was not something she wanted to see done. At least, if anyone ever came looking for them, if other beings-- human or not-- came to this cave, they would know what happened to him. Rina came up next to Jesse and they started to head away towards Naranarti. She wasn't sure if they should walk passed the alien, but he answered her question by walking ahead of them, being sure not to leave them behind.
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The Fighting Irish: To Hell and Back, With Love