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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
- 71
- 72
- 73
Seeing a pair of security guards at the entrance to sickbay and recognising one of them as Lieutenant Kellie, the officer who had earlier served as escort to Da'rian on his tour of the ship, Kehlan beckoned him to her side before issuing crisp instructions to escort the Yautja captain back to the transporter room.
Kellie gave Kihr'yende a wary look but agreed readily. Having got to know Da'rian a little during the tour, he had come to respect the Yautja and was intrigued by both their culture and their fighting ability. But this one was a completely different kettle of fish. Whether it was the blood-stained armour and the weapons or the way Kihr'yende carried himself was hard to say, but he projected an aura of raw danger. This must be how the antelope felt, Kellie mused, when it stared into the eyes of the lion. He could not help thinking that had it been this warrior he had been escorting, Rossi would now be missing a skull. He shoved the thought away as unproductive. "If you'd come with me, sir," he invited politely.
It was a short journey back to the transporter room and they encountered no trouble. Although, Kellie thought, anyone tackling the huge Yautja would have to be a complete idiot. He noted with amusement that any passing crew gave them a wide berth, casting startled looks at his companion. The skull the Yautja captain was carrying intrigued him. It was huge and had a crown-like carapace he had not seen on the ordinary xenomorphs… although he was not sure that the word ‘ordinary' really applied to those things. Impulsively he voiced the question.
"It is a nrak'ytara," Kihr'yende informed him. "Their role is to guard the queen and protect the hive."
Kellie's eyes sparkled with interest as he listened to the explanation.
"Were you part of the Hunt?" the Yautja asked his escort, curious to learn if the Ooman security officer was a warrior.
Kellie nodded vigorously, "Of course," he said exuberantly, "I wouldn't have missed that for anything. It was incredible… and wow, you guys really know how to fight! I wouldn't mind taking some lessons some time." He offered the Predator a grin. "I've got my own trophy in my quarters… bit smaller than yours though. We all decided to keep the tail blades. I reckon it'll make a good knife when I have time to clean it up and make a handle for it."
They had reached their destination and the doors slid open. Once again Kihr'yende had to duck to pass through but he found it did not irritate him as much as it had previously. He was getting used to this place and its people. "Such a knife will serve you well and last many years if correctly prepared," he told his guide, "If you wish, we will speak of it later."
"I'd like that," Kellie said. He turned to the transporter operator, glad to see that Qeytok was still on duty. The big Klingon was unflappable and would not be intimidated by the Yautja. "Commander, one to return to the Yautja ship."
Qeytok gestured towards the transporter pad with one hand, the other hand already busy programming in the coordinates. "Step up, sir," he said cheerfully.
Kihr'yende did so, studying the circular design of the pad with interest. He'd seen it on his tour of the ship and again when he had beamed in, but on that occasion he had been more concerned with getting to sick bay than with the details of his surroundings. As the beam energised, he was aware of a column of sparkling lights forming around him. The lights gave way to a white fog and the transporter room faded from his sight. A moment later the fog cleared and he was on board his own ship.
*****
The trophy safely stowed in his room, Kihr'yende headed down to the lower levels to check on the captive queen. As he approached, he found that the air was irritating his throat. A huff confirmed the observation. The methane had been purged from this level. He grunted discontentedly. Khetara must still be on board then. He would need to have words with Rakai’in about that. Elite or not, he had no right to bring visitors on board the ship without permission, let alone mess with the ship’s air supply. Inevitably, as he drew closer, his mind turned to thoughts of the Klingon female. What was it about her that riled him so, he wondered? She was prickly, bad tempered, adversarial… and despite her ridiculously small size – although he knew she was considered tall for her race – she seemed to take a great delight in pushing him to his limits. So why did he keep allowing her to get through his guard? He was Yeyinde’s captain and a respected Leader among his people; he should have more self-control than that. Shaking his head in disgust, he continued towards his destination.
Rounding a corner, he could see the entrance to the control room which housed the monitoring stations for the cargo bays and the chamber that had become the queen’s prison. The door was open and as he moved closer he could hear Khetara’s voice asking a question and the deeper, growling tones of Rakai’in’s reply.
“…Borg trophies?”
"We keep no trophies from the Borg," Rakai’in told her. "They are infested with nanites and the danger is too great."
“That is a lesson we learned the hard way,” Kihr’yende said, entering the room and adding his own thoughts to the conversation. “We lost several warriors to assimilation before we understood the true nature of the threat.” As he spoke he moved across to the control panel and running a clawed hand across the console, he checked the readouts. All was as it should be. That was good. It was not that he did not trust Rakai’in to do the job properly but as captain he was responsible for the ship and the last thing he needed was for the queen to get free.
Khetara jumped at the sound of his voice. Her back to the door, she had been too intent on the discussion with Rakai’in to sense his approach. Mentally castigating herself for letting down her guard so completely, she turned to face him.
It seemed to Kihr’yende that Khetara had tensed as he entered, as though in readiness to fight. Yet a moment ago she had been relaxed and comfortable as she talked with Rakai’in. Why did she prefer the younger Hunter’s company to his? And why did he even care?
“So there are Yautja drones out there?” That was not a pleasant thought. The Borg were dangerous enough as it was. With Yautja strength and fighting ability added into the matrix, they would be almost unstoppable.
“No,” Rakai’in answered, “We hunted them down and gave them an honourable end.”
Kihr’yende frowned at the simplistic reply. Rakai’in had given Khetara the impression that the battle against the Borg had been easily won but that was not strictly true. Despite his Elite status, Rakai’in was still young. For him the fight against the Borg had been all about the honour and glory of the Hunt. Raised to leadership, Kihr’yende knew better. It had been about the survival of his race. Despite their destruction of the cube it was entirely possible that some had utilised escape pods to survive and re-join their collective. “I lost my brother in that fight,” he said suddenly, his warm golden eyes taking on a faraway look as he remembered.
The Borg cube had appeared out of nowhere. It had ignored all their warnings to stay away, inexorably coming closer and closer to the Yautja home-world. As they approached, they had broadcast their chilling message. “We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ships. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile.”
Even the idea of surrender was anathema to the Yautja. The clans had united against the threat and a running battle had been fought across space and on the surface of several of their worlds. On the ground, in hand to hand combat, the Yautja warriors had been vastly superior to their enemies, although as the Borg shields adapted to their energy weapons, they had quickly learned to rely on their wrist blades and spears.
Kihr’yende had been hunting drones with his brother. Despite having different fathers they had been inseparable and had even undertaken their Chiva together. The older of the two, Al’inde was not as physically imposing as his brother, built for speed rather than strength. In the end it was that speed that had killed him.
Taking to the treetops, they had tracked a small party of Borg through the jungle. Faster than his brother, Al’inde had gone on ahead and as Kihr’yende had caught up, he’d heard the sounds of fighting. He’d dropped down to ground level just in time to see Al’inde kill the last of them. With a victorious roar Al’inde bent to remove the skull and spine of his prey. Intent on his task, he had taken little notice of the spasmodic movement of the mechanical fingers as nerve impulses fired for the final time. He had made barely a sound as needle-like wires shot out from the dying hand, piecing his skin and delivering their deadly load of nanites. It was only as the nanites had spread though his system, beginning the process of assimilating him into the collective, that he had realised something was wrong and let out a panicked cry for help.
There had been nothing that Kihr’yende could do to save his brother. In the end, as the spark of individuality had faded from his amber eyes, Kihr’yende had done the only thing he could. He had slaughtered the newly formed drone that had once been his brother and destroyed his body and those of the drones before returning to his ship to send out an urgent warning.
Khetara shivered as the story concluded. “Borg nanites are truly dangerous,” she acknowledged. “My own people and the Federation lost a great many warriors before we pushed them back.”
“Individually the Borg are easy to defeat, slow, clumsy and mindless,” Kihr’yende said, “They are unworthy of a place on our trophy walls. The threat lies in their sheer numbers and in their ability to assimilate their enemies.” He shrugged. “In that, they are not so different to the Kainde Amedha.”
The similarity had already occurred to Khetara and she nodded in understanding. “Parasites with a hive mentality, controlled by a queen.” Glancing at Rakai'in, she offered him a slight smile "You don't need the extra trophies anyway, your collection is impressive enough as it is. Thanks for showing it to me. I've learned…"
The Borg forgotten, an irrational, jealous rage surged through the Predator captain and he turned on Rakai’in. “You DARED show off your trophies to Khetara?” In typical Kihr'yende fashion he did not stop to think. His low, rumbling growl escalating into a full throated roar, he stepped forward and delivered a powerful shove to Rakai'in's shoulder.
*****
Thank you Brandy for the review. I'm glad you like George, he is a very special character for me! Yes, the story is almost finished, although its taking longer than I thought. I worked out a plan of attack to make sure I tied up all the different threads.. was a great idea in theory but it would help if the characters would cooperate... There should be 4-5 chapters more - althoughhaving said that, my outline for chapter 71 has ended up expanding all the way from 71-73 so anythiing could happen
- 71
- 72
- 73
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A New Alliance