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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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George stood in the cave. He could see Kehlan staring in his direction, a look of horror and fear on her face. His son, weapon in hand… he seemed to be shouting something but George could not hear the words. A nearby marine kneeling in the dust as he prepared the explosives. They all seemed so far away, dreamlike and unreal, almost irrelevant. Their movements seemed slow and exaggerated as though time itself had stopped.
A figure approached him, unknown yet somehow familiar. Cloaked in darkness, he was little more than a shadow in the night yet a shadow with form and substance. He moved towards the Elder, walking calmly through the chaos and mess, seeming not to notice the Kainde Amedha corpses strewn across the rocky ground, moving through them as though they were not there. Nor did he show any interest in the inter-racial team struggling to control the hard meat queen and complete the cleansing of the nest. They in turn seemed unaware of his presence.
The unknown Yautja came closer and George’s vision blurred, the cave and its contents fading from his consciousness until nothing was left but the night.
*****
Only a moment later George opened his eyes. They were sticky and sore as if he had wakened from a long sleep. The darkness had gone, to be replaced by light, an intense white light that burned and blinded. He raised a hand, both to rub the grit from his eyes and to protect himself against the brightness.
The light was painful and at first he could see nothing but white, but as moments passed, either his vision adapted to its brightness or it faded a little. Squinting, he could just make out a blurred shadow in front of him. It became clearer and he realised he was looking at his own clawed hand.
He studied his claws momentarily, as though he had never seen them before. Then, lowering the hand, he peered around him, trying to figure out what had happened and where he was. Confusion reigned. His mind was blank and he could remember nothing.
The light faded further and where moments ago there had been nothing but white, a being stood in front of him, silhouetted against the light. At the sight of the black figure, memory returned. The mission. The Hunt. Kay-lan… the Kainde Amedha queen. The dark figure approaching him. Suddenly he understood. He had wondered if this would be his Final Hunt and now it was confirmed. Well there were worse ways to go than in battle with a good friend by his side. Would they be able to complete the mission without him? He could only hope so. For him, the Hunt was over.
The figure was Yautja in shape, tall, even for one of that race, with the lean, muscular build of a warrior and long tresses hanging down to his waist. An overwhelming aura of power and majesty hung over him. Dark as the shadows of midnight, all was black yet he had the impression of ornate, ceremonial armour covering tightly coiled muscles. Eyes glowing red as Terran life-blood provided the only splash of colour, the contrast startling against the ebony blackness of his body. He wore no mask and carried no visible weapons. He had no need of them, he was Death incarnate.
The Elder bowed in a gesture of respect. It was not the first time he had encountered the Black Warrior. A veteran of many hunts he had more than once come close to death. Cetanu was a figure he knew all too well.
Some clans depicted Cetanu as a Kainde Amedha queen, George knew. That had never quite made sense to him. Certainly the hard meats were worthy of respect but in the end they were Prey. The god of death could never be considered prey. All living beings must eventually fall before him; he was the ultimate warrior whom none could defeat. Nor could he picture the god in a feminine form. The females were creators; they brought life into the world. Taking life was the domain of the males.
“I have many forms,” the Black Warrior said in response to the Elder’s unspoken thoughts. His voice was deep, almost baritone. Resonating with power, it sent shivers down the Elder’s spine. “But this is your dream and hence I choose to appear as you imagine me.”
George pondered that. He had not expected an explanation but it made sense. “Am I dreaming then?” he dared to ask, “Or are you really here?”
“Irrelevant!” Cetanu let out a low rumbling growl as he turned the full force of his burning red gaze on the Elder. “The question is, why are you here?” he asked somewhat testily, “I have not summoned you to my hall.”
The old Predator bristled slightly at the god’s tone. He was the Elder. He waited on no-one’s summons, not even death. Nevertheless he answered the question. “I have led my people honourably and to the best of my ability. My Final Hunt is over and I wish to rest.”
“And what of your successor?” the Black Warrior asked implacably. “Will he finish your work?”
Distress showed on George’s face as he considered the question. Da’rian showed promise but he was still too young to lead the clan. As his eldest son, Kihr’yende would do his best but he was quick tempered and impatient and did not enjoy politics. Leadership of the Council of Elders would fall to Dachande as the next most senior and that one was greedy and grasping. The Shadow Walker clan had been vocal in their disapproval of the treaty he had been sent to negotiate and Dachande’s continued recalcitrance had almost split the Council in half. Night Blood clan would stand firm. George had hunted with their current Leader many times as a youth and knew him to be a trustworthy and honourable warrior. He could not be sure of the others.
“No,” he answered finally, “Dachande will not put the good of the people above his own pride and ambitions. There will be no treaty with the Federation. Everything I have worked for will be lost.”
“He will lead the People to war” the Black Warrior said bluntly. “You know this and you know the results of such a war.”
George let out an angry growl. “We are strong but they are many. One insect may be crushed underfoot but even the greatest warrior may be overwhelmed by a swarm. If war comes, the People will fight until the very last of them has fallen. It would be the end of the Yautja race.”
“Just so,” the dark one said, something in his tone indicating pride in a student that had learned its lesson well. “This must not come to be.”
“Then I must go back,” George sighed. He was tired… so tired… but it was not yet time for him to rest. “I have work still to do.”
The black warrior inclined his head in understanding. “You are not alone in your task. You have friends and allies to support you.” A hint of what could almost be described as mischief entered his tone as he added, “Besides… Geo’rrrge…” and his pronunciation of the alien name was little more than an amused growl, “Your friend is waiting for you. That one would grieve for your loss and it is never wise to anger a female.”
Against his will, the Elder’s mandibles twitched with barely repressed laughter at the Black Warrior’s words. He had not expected humour from the god of death. “Kay-lan does have an impressive temper for one so small,” he conceded.
The dark one inclined his head. “Your Hunt is not yet over, Jau’esh’enye of Clan Storm Wind. Go back now… and send me the dishonoured one in your place.”
The light returned, growing brighter and brighter until George could see nothing but white, the intensity of it painful to his eyes. It burned through his eyelids and he raised an arm to shield himself from it. Then there was blackness and he was alone again.
*****
For a long time he floated in a darkness that was so absolute it was almost complete sensory deprivation, a cold, black void that echoed the emptiness he felt inside. He did not want to go back. He wanted to rest, to feast in Cetanu’s hall and Hunt with his honourable ancestors. But he had made his choice, the only choice he could make under the circumstances. The real world was not yet done with him and he had a duty to perform.
A sound caught his attention, faint and far away. He moved towards it. A voice, he realised. No… voices… more than one. The sounds were meaningless – words were being spoken but he could not understand them. He moved closer. The voice was feminine… alien…
“George…”
George? For a moment, confusion reigned and then he remembered… Yes, that was the name he had been given. The name he had been given so long ago in the jungle. He was Jau’esh’enye, Elder of Clan Storm Wind and he was George.
“George, come on, you have to fight…” The voice was clearer now, closer and he moved towards it. “George, wake up.”
A light became visible in the distance, growing brighter and brighter as he drew closer to it. The Elder growled. That light was starting to get annoying. Putting up a hand to shield himself from it, he blinked. His eyes felt gritty and sore, as though he had been sleeping for a long time. His growl deepened as he wordlessly vocalised his irritation.
“George!”
The feminine voice again. This time recognition dawned. His voice croaky with disuse, he said her name. “Kay-lan?”
Awareness was beginning to return. He was, he realised lying on some sort of bed and the light above him was that of the ceiling. Yet not the ceiling of his own ship. Where was he? With some effort, he turned his head in an attempt to look around him.
A face appeared above him. Not a Yautja face… ugly, flat features with a protruding nasal appendage and fleshy lips that were lacking in mandibles. A feminine face with smooth, pale skin and brown eyes, ridges on her brow that disappeared into ridiculously fine, russet brown hair that in no way resembled his own tresses. A scar on her cheek proclaimed her to be a member of his clan. Alien… yet familiar and reassuring. “Kay-lan!”
*****
Again, thank you to Kapowallace for their kind words and thank you to everyone else who has reviewed. Its good to know you are enjoying the story.
I need to apologise for the fact that the next chapter may be a while in coming. Basically I've written myself into a corner and need to figure out where I am going with this. We are very close to the end now and I need to make sure everything is tied up properly. While I am pleased with the hunt scenes, the hunt was never part of the original plan (blame the characters, it was their idea, not mine) and its completely messed up the original ending.
There will be a continuation to the story and ideas are swimming round in my head for where the sequel will go. so far it involves paintballs and xenomorphs,,,
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A New Alliance