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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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The Elder Predator fired his plasma caster again and a second creature disintegrated into a smoking pile of remains, followed immediately by a third and a fourth. The marines and the other Predators were firing their own weapons, none of them missing even a single shot. Of course, Kehlan reflected briefly as she brought her disruptor into play, there were so many of the things that even a bad marksman was bound to hit something… not that the Yautja could by any means be considered bad marksmen.
The energy weapons cut a swathe through the oncoming horde yet the creatures kept coming, scrambling agilely over the bodies of their dead hive mates to get at the intruders. Closer and closer they came at what seemed like impossible speed and within seconds of the onslaught beginning, it had degenerated into hand to hand combat.
Not bothering with the relatively short wrist blades that Kehlan was accustomed to seeing the Predators use, George had activated a longer set, extending them to their full length. Unlike the twin wrist blades, which were mounted at the lower edge of his gauntlets, these were securely attached much higher up, almost midway along his lower arms. To Kehlan they looked heavy and unwieldy, almost ridiculously over-sized. Surely mounted in such a way there must be some loss of manoeuvrability? Of course, she reminded herself, the Yautja spent years training with their weapons and no doubt the extended reach offered by the larger blades was of benefit when fighting something as big and deadly as the Kainde Amedha.
As she fought, Kehlan assessed the situation they were in. With the group divided into three teams their numbers were currently very low. Apart from George and herself there were only four Hunters and a handful of marines – all of them experienced, battle trained warriors but the creatures were numerous. Kehlan could not tell how many of the things were attacking. In the darkness her perceptions were distorted, there could have been a hundred of the things or maybe a thousand.
The paucity of their numbers was not, Kehlan knew, a complete disadvantage. The Yautja fought better with plenty of room around them and while this cavern was big enough to give them the space they needed, it was not so big that it allowed them to be completely overrun by their enemies. While none of her marines were under-sized, they were small in comparison to the Yautja and the size differential had created some interesting and surprisingly effective battle tactics. The two races fought well together… three actually, she corrected herself - Yautja, Human and Klingon … the Yautja, with their greater height and longer reach keeping the enemy at a distance and the smaller Federation team members darting in under their guard and dealing with anything that came in too close.
A stream of colourful obscenities filled the air and Kehlan grinned. That was Corporal Ryan. An American hailing from New York, he was almost - but not quite - as loud as Van Zyl. No-one could be that loud, she thought wryly, hazarding a quick glance in his direction to check on his welfare – although he was obviously not seriously hurt if he could swear at that volume and with that much imagination.
The corporal was bleeding from a ragged cut just above his eyes, where one of the hard meats had swiped at him with its claws as he’d buried his machete in it neck. Pulling the weapon free, he jumped back to avoid the spurting blood as the dying creature toppled sideways. Pausing for a moment to wipe the blood out of his eyes, he grinned up at the nearest Predator. He’d been fighting at the side of this one for several minutes, long enough to gain an appreciation for his skill and ability in battle. “Hey, Big Guy,” he said cheekily, “I’m gonna have a scar just like yours when this heals.”
“Not Big Guy,” the Yautja grunted in heavily accented but passable English. “Name is Kva’vic-te.”
“Kev-vi…”
“Kva’vic-te,” the Hunter repeated patiently, turning away momentarily to dispatch a hard meat that had come a little too close to his wrist blades.
Ryan tried again before giving up and shaking his head. “I can’t say that. I reckon I’m just gonna call you Victor.”
The Hunter considered that. The translation his computer gave him was a good one. Originating from one of Earth’s ancient languages, it meant champion… one who wins, who succeeds. Yes, he decided, it was a good name. Carefully he repeated it, trying out the unfamiliar sounds. “Vic-tor.”
Nodding in acceptance of his new nickname, Victor leaned down to study the wounds on the Ooman’s forehead. It was indeed similar to his clan marking. The hard meat’s claws had left two short lines, almost but not quite parallel. All that was lacking was a third line to join them together and form the distinctive thunderbolt symbol of the Storm Wind clan. He reached out to touch the wound. Then, with a suddenness that caught the marine by surprise, the Hunter dug one knife-sharp talon into the skin, opening it up and creating the third and final line. The Blooding Mark complete, he stepped back, inclining his head in satisfaction. “Better,” he growled, “Now is correct.”
“Ow!” the marine complained. “That hurt! But thanks… I think.”
Shaking her head in amusement and wondering if Ryan understood the significance of what the Predator had done, Kehlan moved forward to engage another one of the creatures.
George had also seen the encounter. His body shaking with barely repressed laughter, he pulled his blades free of the xenomorph he had just killed, turning to strike at another one. He was no longer the only one of his race to bear an Ooman name. One by one his warriors were being given nicknames of their own. The Elder was all too aware that the majority of his Hunters had been resistant, if not outright hostile to the idea of treating Prey as equals, yet their acceptance of the Ooman names signified a much needed change to long held, out of date ideals and prejudices… and that, George decided, was a good thing.
A series of muffled blasts shook the ground beneath their feet, the explosions clearly audible over the noise and din of battle. Dust and debris fell and small stones skittered across the rocky ground. The sound caused the Kainde Amedha to falter, backing away from their enemies in confusion and momentary fear. The Yautja were quick to take advantage of their hesitation, swiftly moving in for the kill and several of the creatures fell dead before they had a chance to recover themselves.
Another blast, larger and more powerful than the others, or maybe just closer, rocked the cave dislodging more debris and causing rocks to fall. The air was full of dust, making it hard to breathe. Suddenly feeling distinct twinges of claustrophobia, Kehlan glanced uncertainly at George, wondering if the entire cave was about to collapse on them. The old Predator did not seem bothered and she found herself wondering if there was anything that frightened him. If anything, his posture indicated he was pleased about something.
Kehlan jumped as an unearthly screech echoed across the chamber, the sound going through her and sending cold shivers down her spine as though someone had raked their nails down a blackboard or… what was that expression she’d heard her first officer use - something about dancing on graves?
If the scream startled Kehlan, it stopped the already nervous drones in their tracks. The Klingon woman was almost too startled to take advantage as the thing that a nano-second ago had been reaching for her throat with slavering jaws, halted mid attack. Recovering herself quickly she hacked it down, even as it was turning to run. To her surprise, she saw that all the hard meats were doing likewise. As one being, they began to back away, fleeing into the dark tunnels in obedient response to the call of the queen.
Not understanding what had just happened, Kehlan stared after the creatures as they faded into the blackness. Why had the Kainde Amedha fled? Moments ago there had been a massive sea of them, bent on the annihilation of their hated enemy - and with sheer numbers on their side, Kehlan was realistic enough to admit that they just might have eventually triumphed. Yet when that eerie cry had filled the air, they had simply abandoned the fight and disappeared back into whatever nightmare had spawned them. Choking as dust caught the back of her throat, she could not help thinking that maybe they just didn’t want to get trapped in a collapsing cave.
The thought of that was terrifying to Kehlan. Since being locked in a cupboard as a very young child, she had never liked dark, enclosed spaces. There had been things in there, unknown things and they had crawled on her as she had screamed for help that had not come. By the time her care-givers had found her… and that was a misnomer if ever she’d heard one. Care was the one thing they had not given her… she’d been a complete mess, her fingers raw and bloody from clawing at the door in a desperate attempt to escape. She shivered at the memory. Until now, she had managed to keep the fear locked up in the back of her mind, focussing only on the mission and what must be done, but as dust and debris continued to fall, the cavern that only a moment ago had seemed wide open and spacious, suddenly seemed small and restrictive. Forcing herself to take deep breaths, she tried to push away the fear that was threatening to rise up and overwhelm her.
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A New Alliance