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A New Alliance	By : Kehlan Category: M through R > Predator Views: 2899 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Predator movie series, nor do I own Star Trek, nor any of the characters from either of them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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No alarm sounded. No warning lights flashed around the edge of the hatch. It was not until the wind whipped up that anyone realised something was wrong and by then it was already too late. The roar of the escaping air and collapsing equipment all but drowned out the terrified scream as a crewman was blown out into space.
Khetara lunged for the console, frantically trying to engage the emergency force-fields but nothing was working as it should. She was barely able to hit the alarm before the almost hurricane force wind pulled her away from the console and towards the open doors. The cold blackness of space beckoned, inexorably drawing her closer and sucking the precious oxygen from her lungs.
The wind faded to nothing and she was floating, the elusory safety of the great starship left behind her. Now it was just her and the vast openness of space. Vision faded as pressure mounted in her eyes and she could feel her blood starting to boil. She opened her mouth, crying out soundlessly for help that would never come. In space, she remembered hazily, no-one could hear you scream. The only sound now was the creaking of oars and the flap of sails as the Barge of the Dead drew close, ready to carry her to Gre’thor.
Gasping for breath and covered in sweat, Khetara woke up, her throat hoarse from screaming. Her heart was pounding, hammering against her ribcage as though it would burst through the layers of muscle and bone like the parasitic chest-burster the Predators had told her of.
She sat up, the suddenness of the motion causing her to cough. Reaching for the oxygen mask the doctors had given her, she held it to her face and as it worked its magic, she calmed slightly. She was alive. Kortar and the Barge would have to wait a little longer for her company.
There were still several hours until the start of her duty shift but unable to face the thought of going back to sleep and facing the waiting nightmares, Khetara pushed back the furs and got to her feet. Cool air caressed her body, drying the sweat and she shivered slightly. A shower and a strong raktajino would make her feel better, she decided, and then she would do a little paperwork until dawn. Anything to stay awake!
The Klingon General would never forget that terrifying moment when she had lost her grip on the console and helpless against the immense force of the wind, had slid towards black, cold death. She shivered again and this time it was not because of the cold. She was alive, she reminded herself. The Predator captain had saved her life. Just as she’d lost all hope of survival, he had risked himself to reach out and pull her back, holding her protectively against that iron-hard, muscular body.
Feeling a little better after her shower, she pulled on a clean uniform and settled down with her mug of raktajino, extra strong and extra sweet and began to read through the previous day’s negotiations. Khetara sighed as she reached the clause that had caused so much trouble. She’d been unfair, she recognised uncomfortably, wondering what it was about the large Predator that was making her so antagonistic towards him. He’d saved her life; he did not deserve her bad attitude. Maybe, she realised, it was exactly because he had saved her. Was this the Survivor Guilt that the Terrans spoke of?
Khetara growled angrily. She was the ranking officer here; the mission was hers to command. So why did she feel so useless, so weak and ineffectual? She was not needed here, she thought in a moment of uncharacteristic self-pity. Her subordinates had done a very good job in her absence. Despite all the obstacles Kehlan and Kreltek had begun to forge a friendship with the Yautja and now they would face danger, hunting with those new friends while she was left behind in safety like a helpless infant. She was not fit to hunt… was not fit to do anything… could barely walk across the room without coughing. Weak… useless… the words danced before her eyes, taunting her and with a sudden fit of explosive anger, she threw the padd away from her, sending it crashing into the bulkhead.
*****
At this time of day, very early in the morning at an hour most people would still consider the night before, Endeavour’s main sick bay was quiet, its only occupants apart from a few staff members, were the large Predator and the security officers who had escorted him.
The Elite Warrior had come here in the hopes that Federation medicine could work a miracle and heal his damaged hip quickly enough for him to be allowed to join the hunt. Yautja medicine was effective, if somewhat painful and Yeyinde’s healer was accustomed to patching up injured warriors. He had done a good job in treating Rakai’in’s injuries, sealing the horrific wound in his shoulder and setting the broken hip bone and encouraging it to heal. But the original damage caused by the alien queen had been exacerbated due to the stubborn Hunter’s insistence of walking on the damaged leg. Federation medical prowess however was almost legendary and Rakai’in could only hope that the facilities on the starship lived up to the hype.
Called early to duty by a slightly nervous paramedic, who had been intimidated by the sheer size and aggressive appearance of the visitor, T’lia had instructed the Predator to lie down on one of the larger of the bio-beds while she examined the injury. Rakai’in had stared down at the small female, growling under his breath at the order but finding himself reassured by her calm demeanour and air of authority he had obeyed her.
Carefully and efficiently, the Vulcan healer examined the wound, her hands firm but gentle, causing no pain as they manipulated his flesh. Picking up the medical tricorder, she scanned him, nodding in satisfaction as the computer confirmed her thoughts. “Your surgeon set the bone correctly,” she told her patient, “But your weight and continued use of the limb has caused the broken edges to shift slightly and crumble under the pressure.” She looked at him astutely, “It’s causing you a lot of pain, isn’t it?”
“Sei-i.” The answer was reluctant. He was a Blooded Elite Warrior and he felt shamed by the admission.
The Vulcan doctor did not need a translator to understand his reply. That he was in pain was obvious even if he was trying his best to hide it. A very experienced healer, she had served with enough Klingons that she had long since got used to their almost foolhardy bravado when it came to injuries and in this at least, the Predators were not so different from their Klingon counterparts.
Rakai’in gave the doctor a look that was both hopeful and worried. “You can repair the damage?”
“I can,” she confirmed. “And with your permission I will do so now.” Turning, she gestured to one of her nurses, “Glynis, bring me the bone regeneration kit.”
The nurse hurried to do her bidding, returning after a few minutes with the required equipment. Thanking her courteously, T’lia got to work. An hour or so later, it was all done. Scanning one last time with the tricorder, she studied the results before putting it down with a nod of satisfaction. “You may get up now.”
The big Predator sat up and swung his legs over the side of the table, getting to his feet. Carefully, he took a few steps, testing his newly repaired leg. The Federation doctor had spoken truly, he discovered, the pain was completely gone and he no longer needed to limp. His mandibles flared in a satisfied grin. He crossed the room before turning back again and approaching the doctor. “I thank you for your honourable assistance,” he said politely, “You have enabled me to join the hunt today.”
A pacifist and a vegetarian, T’lia did not understand the Yautja compulsion to hunt, but she accepted that it was an important part of their culture. Regretting the bad news she must give him, the healer shook her head. “I’m afraid not. You must rest that leg for several days if you wish it to heal properly.”
He growled discontentedly. “This hunt is important,” he insisted. How could he explain to her just how important? Their numbers were few. He was an Elite Warrior, his skills and experience were needed. Now that he was no longer in pain, how could he be expected to stand and watch while his brothers hunted without him?
“The damage to your hip was severe,” she told him. “Our medical procedures are good, but we cannot work miracles. The new bone needs time to knit together and harden into place.”
“But…”
“If you hunt today,” the Vulcan warned him, “then not only will your vulnerability put your team mates in danger, you will do irreparable damage to the bone and end your hunting career permanently. You will never hunt again.”
****
Thank you to Burnehazard for your very kind words in your review. Thanks also to Brandy and Bronxwench for your continued support. You are all really encouraging me to keep going. Lets see where this journey takes us....
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A New Alliance