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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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Kehlan stared in a combination of disbelief and awe at the trophies hanging on the wall in the antechamber of George’s quarters.
With the mission to all intents and purposes over and the Yautja ship preparing to break orbit and return to its homeworld with its deadly cargo, George had finally found the time to invite Kehlan on board his ship. The old Predator was a good host and the tour was interesting and informative. Inevitably though, as he told her stories of his people and their culture, the subject of trophies had arisen and he had brought her here to his private rooms to see them for herself.
*****
The interior of the Yautja ship was magnificent. There was no other word to describe it. Khetara had said as much but seeing it in person was not the same as hearing about it. The ornately engraved wall panels were lit with a muted light glowing a soft amber, just brightly enough to display the carved images. Images that appeared to depict scenes from the history and mythology of the Yautja race were surrounded by abstract patterns. Not an inch was bare. Combined with the low lying mist swirling around her feet, the effect was both eerie and stunningly beautiful.
As they had approached the bridge, George had stopped by one particularly ornate frieze depicting a Yautja warrior locked in mortal combat against a creature that Kehlan could only hope was mythical. His claws caressing the image, almost lovingly, he said, “This was Yeyinde, one of the greatest Yautja ever to have lived. This ship was named for him.”
The name meant ‘brave one’ Kehlan knew. Although looking at the fearsome beast in the mural, she found herself wondering aloud if ‘suicidal one’ might be a better name?
“You are not completely wrong,” George hold her, biting back a trill of laughter at her irreverent yet accurate observation. “Those creatures are native to a planet many light years from here. They are the apex predators on their world, ferocious and deadly, hunting in large, well organised packs. He was silent for a moment before continuing “They are not immortal; they can be defeated but to engage them armed only with hand weapons, would indeed be suicidal. Which is why,” he added, his tone suddenly very serious, “that only the very best of our hunters, the oldest, most honoured and most revered of our elders are permitted to go there on Final Hunt.”
Despite the almost oppressive heat, Kehlan shivered. The product of a warrior culture, she did not need to ask what Final Hunt was. “Has anyone ever come back.. apart from in legend, I mean?”
He shook his head vehemently, the action sending his dreads swinging. “No warrior since Yeyinde has ever returned from that Hunt. To do so would truly be the ultimate Nain-desintye-de.”
The pure win. As she translated the words, Kehlan had little time to consider what they might mean as George continued. It was, she learned, traditional for a younger hunter to accompany the old one. It would be that hunter’s role to act as witness… to watch and record – usually from a safe vantage point high up in the tree top – yet never to interfere. Afterwards he would retrieve the body and bring it back for burial. The elder that returned victorious from such a hunt would gain a status that was beyond legendary.
“I have kept a space on my wall” George told her. “One day when the time is right I will go there.” The gaze he turned on Kehlan was almost frightening in its intensity. “Maybe we will hunt it together, you and I, side by side.”
Aware of the significance of what he was asking, Kehlan was silent for a long time. Finally she nodded. “When the time comes, I would be honoured to share in your Final Hunt.”
He nodded, “In the meantime I have many other skulls in my trophy room.” An uncharacteristic note of mischief entered his voice as in an effort to lighten the tone of the conversation, he added. “Not that I wish to mate with you but… would you like to see them?”
Kehlan grinned, remembering the laughter when Khetara had sheepishly confessed to her faux pas with Rakai’in. “I am a married woman,” she teased him.
George’s growl was menacing but the twitching of his mandibles betrayed his amusement. “I think I can restrain myself from ravishing you. Come then… if you dare!”
*****
She was, she realised, looking at the results of eight hundred years of ruthless hunting. Row after row after row of polished skulls, so many she could not even begin to count them. There was no doubt in her mind that all the skulls were his and yet, if she had understood him correctly, these were only a few of his favourites, the ones that meant the most to him. The Elder was her friend; she had thought she knew him well but it was only now that she began to comprehend just what it meant to be a Yautja.
Her attention was drawn to the skull of a Kainde Amedha queen. Flanked on either side by the smaller but still impressive skulls of two drones, it was mounted in pride of place right in the centre of the wall, its sleek, dark curves dominating the display.
Fascinated, Kehlan stepped closer, reaching out to touch the skull before belatedly realising that her friend might not like them being touched and quickly pulling her hand back. She would not handle another warrior’s weapons without permission and in a culture like that of the Yautja, it was very likely that to touch the trophies of another hunter was taboo, or at the very least, horribly inappropriate.
He gave a click of approval at her good manners and inclined his head, granting permission. “The trophy is yours as much as mine” he reminded her, “We killed her together. It is your right to touch it.”
Reassured, she did so, running her fingers lightly across its surface. It was an object of surprising beauty, its jaws open to display the inner mouth with its double row of terrifyingly sharp teeth, and sleek, dark curves widening out into an ornate, intricately decorated crown-like structure. The skull had been cleaned up and polished since she saw it last. For Kehlan at least, it had been only a few days since that terrifying, exhilarating battle for survival against the immature xenomorph queen. They had both taken injuries and George had almost lost his sight when the long, razor-sharp claws of the queen had raked across his face leaving scars that hundreds of years later, still marked his face.
Only a few days, she thought ruefully. With all that had happened since then, it felt like a lifetime ago. For George of course, it had been a lifetime. He had grown and matured since then, developing and honing his skills in the hunt – an apex predator in every sense of the word. The display in front of her was vivid proof of that.
“That one was your first kill” George told her, his deep, growling voice bringing her back from her reverie as he gestured towards the drone skull to the right of the queen. Aware of her surprise, he approached until he was standing just behind her, so close that their bodies were almost touching. Resting one hand on her shoulder, he pointed with the other to a series of symbols engraved into the wall directly beneath the skull.
Kehlan recognised the symbols as Yautja lettering but was unable to read them. She looked up at him enquiringly.
“It is your name,” he explained, answering her wordless question. “It would not be appropriate for me to claim the kill as mine yet I did not wish to dispose of it. So I broke tradition and displayed it in your memory.” He sighed. “I did not expect to ever see you again.”
Inevitably, Kehlan’s gaze fell on a trophy that was all too familiar, humanoid in shape with distinctive ridges that proclaimed it to be Klingon. Watching her carefully as she moved closer to get a better look, George waited silently for her reaction. Not wishing to cause offence to his friend, he had considered moving the skull but to do so felt dishonest. It seemed to the old Predator that this was the true test of their relationship. Faced with the stark evidence of who and what he was, could she accept it or would their friendship end here?
Kehlan studied the trophy. Its presence in his collection was no real surprise; she had always known that her kind had been hunted by the Yautja and that in the past, George had killed both humans and Klingons. Even so, to actually see the evidence was disquieting and she could not honestly say she was completely comfortable with it. The bone had taken on a faintly creamy colour, indicative of great age. No doubt the warrior, whoever he was, had been dead for a very long time.
Wordlessly turning away from the trophy, she allowed her eyes to roam around the room. Several human skulls were clearly visible but she did not stop to admire them, nor did she comment. They bothered her, but not as much as the Klingon skull. Biologically speaking, she was as much human as she was Klingon, but she had grown up amongst Klingons, thought of herself as Klingon. Despite her blood – and her marriage to one – humans were almost as alien to her as they were to George. Not completely sure why it affected her so much, Kehlan’s eyes went back again to the Klingon skull. It was not so long ago that she and George had almost come to blows over the hunting of sentient prey. She didn’t like it but she had no right to judge him or his culture, not if she wished to retain his friendship. Even so it troubled her.
“Did he fight well?” she asked finally.
“Sei-i,” George nodded, “He was a worthy opponent who fought with great honour.”
Kehlan nodded, accepting his answer.
“Come,” he said, aware that she had seen enough. “Let me show you the kehrite. I would spar with you.”
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- 79
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A New Alliance