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

Chapter List
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Deep in the heart of the cave system the Kainde Amedha queen shifted uneasily in her nest. Danger approached, all her instincts were screaming a warning. The ancient enemy, the Hunters from the sky were returning.
Handicapped by the immense size and weight of her egg sac, the queen’s mobility was severely limited, forcing her to rely on her scouts for information and on her Praetorians for close defence. Protruding from between her hind legs and supported by resinous straps attached to the ceiling of the nest chamber, the bulging egg sac extended almost double the length of her body.
Immobilised she might be, but she was by no means helpless; anything getting past her Praetorian guards and coming within range of those powerful inner jaws, the talons on her hands or her long whip-like tail would quickly find out how well she could protect herself.
She shifted again, grunting with the effort of labour as another egg, wet and slimy from the birth process, slid from her grotesquely distended ovipositor. When it hardened and dried, the worker drones would move it to one of the incubation chambers. Briefly she considered detaching herself from the restriction of the egg sac but such a move was painful and it would take time for her to grow a new one. No, she decided, it was not yet necessary and she would do it only in case of extreme emergency. Until then she would trust her children to protect her.
Her children were plentiful but still fewer than she would have liked. Too many of her offspring lay dormant within their eggs, awaiting suitable hosts so that their transformation could begin allowing them to join the colony as useful adults. But those hosts were scarce now. Anything large enough for her purposes had already been hunted and brought back to the nest, their dried and desiccated corpses embedded in the resin, their last agony on display for all to see like some ghastly parody of a Yautja trophy wall. Only small prey remained, insignificant and useless for her purpose, fit for nothing but food.
It had been many years since the hunters had last come here and the queen had allowed herself to grow complacent, to forget the ever present threat from the sky, a mistake that had cost her dear and that she would not make again. Only a few days ago, a significant amount of her children had already fallen to the invaders. A scouting party, checking the inner perimeters of their territory while also foraging for food had come across the Yautja… and something else that was not Yautja yet fought just as fiercely. All but one of that group had been slaughtered, the single survivor escaping to bring warning to the hive.
Unnoticed by any guard or protector, the Hunters had breached the outermost tunnels of her nest system. They had encountered an outlying incubation chamber and yet… only two of her larval offspring had been destroyed before the enemy had turned and left. This behaviour was inexplicable and the queen did not understand. Whatever it meant though, she was certain that no good would come of it. The Hunters would return and it would be soon.
The queen knew that many more of her children would fall prey to the Yautja in the fighting still to come. But in the end, sheer numbers would prevail and the Hunters would become the hunted, their still living bodies brought back to the breeding chambers to become hosts to a new generation. The queen knew nothing of genetics and the laws of inheritance, but she did understand that the offspring took on many of the characteristics of the host animal. The Yautja would add their strength, speed and cunning to an already formidable species. The resulting offspring would be unstoppable!
The thought pleased her and she hissed softly, her body beginning to release pheromones as she transmitted her instructions to her children.
*****
The alarm sounded and warning lights flashed around the edge of the hatchway as the doors of Shuttle-bay Two began to slide open exposing the bay to the vast blackness of space. The frame of the hatch glowed a soothing shade of blue, indicating the force-field was active, preserving the atmosphere inside the bay.
Standing at the window of the shuttle-bay control room, Khetara watched the shuttles as they prepared to leave for the hunt. Her eyes darted from the view through the open doors to the pressure and force-field integrity readouts on the console in front of her. All was calm and as it should be. The force-field was performing just as it should, an invisible yet immensely strong barrier holding back the vacuum and preventing the air in the shuttle-bay from being sucked into space. Khetara took a deep shuddering breath as the first of the shuttles lifted off from the deck and slipped though the force-field and out into space. Nothing was going wrong. Nothing was going to go wrong. A sudden lancing pain in the palm of her hand drew her attention away from the departing shuttles. She glanced down, surprised to find that her knuckles were white with tension and she had been clenching her fists so tightly she had driven her nails through the skin and drawn blood.
With a growl of annoyance, she forced herself to unclench her fists and turned her attention back to the shuttle-bay, watchful and wary, ready for even the slightest hint of a problem.
Concentrating fiercely on the scene in the shuttle-bay, the faint hiss of the door opening behind her made her jump and startled, she turned again to see a Yautja framed in the doorway, a pair of security officers close behind him, almost hidden behind his bulk.
The big Predator moved across the room to stand at her side by the observation window and once again Khetara was struck by just how quietly the Yautja moved. Despite his size, the warrior moved silently, only the faint tapping of his claws on the metal deck plates giving any warning of his approach. It was an essential trait for a hunter, Khetara knew. Even so, she was impressed.
The newcomer was not one of the diplomats that Khetara had been dealing with and she did not recognise him. She had been informed however, of the presence of a Yautja Hunter on board. Apparently he had requested medical assistance from the Federation doctors. Her nostrils twitched, picking up the strong scent of antiseptic. Undoubtedly this was the same one.
“You are the Klingon Leader,” Rakai’in said suddenly. “Honoured Kihr’yende has spoken of you.”
Khetara blinked, considering that. What had the Predator captain said of her, she wondered? “I am,” she confirmed. “My name is Khetara.” She spoke her name slowly and clearly, giving him a chance to hear the sounds that formed it. “And you are?”’
He considered giving his full title but thought better of it. She did not need to know that he was an Elite Blooded Hunter. It wouldn’t mean anything to her and she had not given her own titles, indicating that informality was acceptable. Instead he responded simply, “My name is Rakai’in.”
“Rakai’in.” Without mandibles, her pronunciation of his name was not perfect but it was close enough and he nodded in approval.
As they spoke, the final shuttle was being boarded as its pilot ran the pre-flight checks preparatory to departure. Patiently waiting his turn to board, one of the marines caught sight of the Predator standing at the window and recognised him. Nudging the big South African standing next to him, he pointed towards the control room.
Van Zyl followed his colleague’s pointing finger and seeing Rakai’in he grinned and raised his arm to wave. “Hey, Big Guy!” he bellowed, “Come to see us off?”
The others let out groans of protest and the nearest, a comparatively slight Andorian, clouted his friend across the back of the head. "Idiot... he can't hear you through the transparent Aluminium... We can though so thanks for the burst eardrums."
Van Zyl shoved good-naturedly at the Andorian and the resulting scuffle was quickly broken up by the Sergeant. "Break up the knitting circle, girls! You can braid each other’s pigtails AFTER take-off," the man bellowed. "MOVE!"
Thus admonished, the marines boarded the shuttle in a more or less orderly fashion and the doors shut behind them. A moment later the shuttle lifted off the deck and slipped out into space.
The Andorian had been wrong as it happened. The internal intercom between the shuttle bay and the control room was wide open. The observers had heard every word. Rakai’in’s mandibles flared in amusement. "May I ask something?" he enquired of his Klingon companion.
She looked up at him and nodded, inviting him to voice his thoughts. “Go ahead.”
The Predator frowned slightly as he mentally rehearsed the unknown word. "What is this deadly art of 'Knitting' that your warriors practice?"
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A New Alliance