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The Fighting Irish: To Hell and Back, With Love	By : girlyhero Category: M through R > Predator Views: 3343 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from Predator, Alien Vs. Predator, Alien franchises.

Chapter List
- 7
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Naranarti's steps were heavy, and Jesse had wondered if he was going to make it all the way with her in his arms. She had fidgeted twice and requested to walk, but he'd ignored her. She wasn't sure if it was out of worry or embarrassment that he refused her requests. Her heart started to race when they approached the ship. She knew she had been inside once before, but this time she would be conscious to see it.

Naranarti could feel her little heart beating rapidly against his arm. He wasn't exactly sure if it was her own anxiety or if it were from any type of infection from her wounds. He quickened his pace into the ship, longer strides rather than running to not excite her any further. He slowed when he saw her become more attentive, craning her neck and twisting her head about to see all she could of the inside of his ship. He slowed, guessing correctly to the source of her excitement. His ship was unique to his Clan, taking a more traditional aesthetic instead of the modern, flat, and strict style; there was much debate against his decision, but it was his decision to make-- It's my ship, and I can do the fuck what I want with it!

Jesse tried to decipher if the decorum on the wall was a mural or merely patterns. Occasionally, they would pass doors. One was open, and she got to glance inside at what was a small armory. She could identify the blades, but the technological weapons she couldn't place; guns of some sort. There was an expanded area that looked like a barracks, several bunks inside the wall and mats on the floor. It could house eight, but only three had been in use. Exiting the barracks, they turned a corner and approached another open door. Before she could see inside, Naranarti reached out and hit a button that closed the door. She looked at him curiously. Well, now I really want to see what's in there, she thought to herself. She recalled all the times she would run about her apartment to close off her bedroom when company came over because it was a "hot-mess." She giggled lightly.

He was curious as to what she was thinking, at least she was laughing (at what, concerned him mildly). They entered the medical bay, and he looked for a clear spot to place her.

"You can put me down, now," Jesse said, tugging at a strap on his armor.

Naranarti looked at her and blushed under his mask in embarrassment. Rather than making her feel safe, he was making her feel like a child, and that was not his intention. He set her down, but when he did, his vision blurred and he dropped to a knee catching the edge of the counter when his hands were free.

"Nara! Are you--" Jesse went to grab his shoulders, but she saw the green smear on her arm. It wasn't there when they left the cave and it wasn't from the neck wound, which didn't seem to bother him. She peered around him. A trickle of blood leaked down his back from the base of his skull. "Oh shit, you're head is bleeding too!"

He already knew this, and was slightly annoyed that she felt the need to announce the obvious so loudly. "[It's a concussion,]" he said. "[Apparently, a bad one.]" He regained his sight and stood. Jesse fretted over him for a moment, but he pressed her away to give him some room. He brushed his hand over a few small drawers until he came to the one he wanted and opened it. He grabbed a small metal aerosol version of the heal-all injection. It was much better to deal with for exterior wounds; it allowed them to save the injections for the metal-burner wounds, those things Oomans called bullets.

"We left the mask in the cave," she replied, "A can't understand you."

He pulled at the sleeve of her shirt and then the belt-loop of her jeans. "These, take off," he said. Very quickly, her body heat fluctuated and focused mostly in her head, chest and loins. Now, he felt awkward. He reached out and touched her back as a sort of reminder of her cuts.

"Oh! Yeah, I guess I'm pretty bad off myself..." Jesse had blushed so hard her ears were burning as though a candle was setting her hair on fire. She knew she was in an infirmary of somesort. Why she fancied he wanted her clothes off for any other reason, she couldn't place. Maybe it was the settling of her adrenaline throwing her hormones around. Maybe it was she hadn't actually been laid in two years. She crossed her arms, grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her back, turning it to him. She undid her jeans with one hand and slid them down slightly to expose the slice just over her right cheek.

A scent filled the air. It hit Naranarti, trailing from his chest to his own loins, and he figured out immediately what the heat bloom in her body signified. He kept forgetting the sexual significance of nudity to Oomans. It was strange, but apparently, affective. He shook his head to irritate his concussion and regain his composure. "This may hurt," he told her. He sprayed the gel over her backside and heard the sizzling as it ate away infection and the fibers stuck to the wounds from her clothes.

"Awwwwwww~!" she squealed. "Fuck. My. Life. What's in that shit!?" She reached back and unhooked her bra before letting her shirt down, not enjoying the tightness. She pulled her jeans back up, but didn't fasten them for the same reason.

"It will heal your cuts," he said as he turned the aerosol onto his own neck. He hissed at the pain. He might have had a tough hide, but Ulij made many good breaks through it with his teeth and tusks. "But your wrist we must bind." He grabbed a roll of cloth strips and unravelled them. Because it was only a crack in the bone, a splint wasn't needed, just a good wrap. The crack he'd let heal on its own considering how she reacted to the aerosol. The injections were much more painful; even Yautja would rather avoid them when possible. He would have to take a shot in the back of his neck, and probably have to get Mhrende to administer it considering the angle.

Or maybe Jesse could do it? Naranarti bound her wrist and, as she marveled at the feel of the fabric, saying something about it feeling much nicer than "gauze," he wadded up a few of the strips and pressed them to his neck and tied a long strip around to apply pressure. Afterwhich, he got a prepped needle from the drawer. He held it in his open hand, staring for a long moment. Maybe having her do it would show a side he rather not to her...

"Needles make me nervous, too," she said suddenly. "Want me to stab you, or you think you got it?"

Damn, he thought. He didn't think she'd offer. He would need someone other than himself to do it, and the faster he was healed of his concussion, the sooner they could get the hell going. He couldn't risk maneauvering the ship in a possible dogfight when he could blackout again. She was a scientist, (like a doctor, right?) so surely she understood how to work the damn thing if he at least told her what he needed. "Inject the serum the moment it enters, only this far," he said making the motion as example. He showed her only an inch of the needle had to go through. "Understand?" He held out the syringe to her.

That wasn't generally how it was done, but she would do as he said. She took the syringe and looked about him. "So where do you want me to shove this thing?" Naranarti turned around and knelt in front of her, he pointed to the small gash under his skull. "Are you fucking kidding?! You want me to inject this into your head?!"

"Yes," he replied. He grabbed the counter to brace himself.

"Is this is going to hurt?"

"Yes."

"You going to try and run from it? I mean, are you going to try and pull away from it?"

"Yes." It was only natural his body would make him pull away from excruciating pain.

"Are you going to scream?"

"Yes." He didn't want to admit that, but it was best to warn her.

"Is this the only way?"

He sighed, not because of her questions, but because of the answer to this one. "Yes." He really didn't want to do this, but he could die without such a simple pain to go through. "Do it, and do not warn me."

That was never a good sign. She looked about wondering where Mhrende was; maybe he could do this? She looked at the needle then at the back of Naranarti's head. She gingerly approached him not sure if she should touch him to steady herself for the needle. Considering where she was going to stick him, she probably needed to be forceful and quick, like someone trying to knife a person from behind. She inhaled deep then holding a hand over the injector, slammed the needle about an inch and a half into the gash. Like he'd told her, she injected the fluorescent blue serum as it broke skin.

And she realized why he told her to do it. Naranarti's muscles clenched up so tight, the syringe was pulled out of her grasp. He slammed his chest into the counter he had been holding onto, and she swore he bent the metal in his hands. The scream was the worst part for her. It was low but rang in her ears by volume. She couldn't tell if it echoed, but she was certain that anything in a three mile radius of them had heard him.

Naranarti rested his chin on the counter as he was catching his breath. The pain was settling into his normal threshold allowing for his muscles to relax. He could feel the syringe wanting to fall out of his wound, pressing against the tender skin. He reached behind him and pulled it out, managing to not wince. He wasn't sure how the little Ooman female was fairing, but he was surprised to feel her hand press against his shoulder. For once, he took notice of how different Ooman skin felt. He'd thought about it earlier, her skin felt soft and smooth, but now her hands were wet and noticeably warmer. He turned about to inspect her-- Maybe it's a reaction to the meds? She seemed fine, though her face was pale once again, and she was shakey. He'd just scared her a bit.

Jesse was going to ask if he was fine, but the the sound of running steps stopped her. Mhrende ran passed the doorway, then jumped back when he realized they were in there.

"[Naranarti! What happened?!]" Mhrende had heard the scream from outside and was worried there was another Hish lurking about.

"[Just my concussion,]" Naranarti replied in annoyance. How a Yautja so small as Mhrende could be so loud, he didn't know, but his voice rang in his ears. "[Put everything in my trophy room and meet me in the control room. I may need you when I contact our clan.]"

"[I contacted them--]"

"[GO!]"

Mhrende turned the corner quickly. He didn't run off, in fact it was a moment before he even walked down the hall. Naranarti didn't think he was trying to eavesdrop but maybe collect himself. Either way, he still couldn't handle his student's voice until his concussion settled.

Naranarti got to his feet, declining help from Jesse. It wasn't a pride concern so much as a worry that if he did fall, he'd hurt her. It was possible that any healing his throat had done was reopened, but the serum would drain through his sinuses after swimming in his brain and take care of the rest of him. He motioned towards the doorway and followed her out. She would glance over her shoulder at him in concern. The look in her eyes amused him in a charming manner, and he trilled a bit.

Jesse looked at him again and smiled. He seemed to be much better. He directed her around the corner again and they reached the bunk-hall. The three beds, two across from each other and the other far from them, that were obviously occupied had their covers thrown astray and items scattered about near the beds on the floor. Here, Naranarti paused and so did she. He motioned to the empty beds.

"You may rest here if you wish," he offered.

There was nine available and she wanted to sleep closest to him. "Where do you sleep?"

Again, he didn't expect her to ask. "I have rooms down the hall," he replied pointing further out. He motioned to the bunk to their right. "Mhrende sleeps here for now."

"For now? Where does he normally stay?"

"We permanently reside on a Clan ship much larger than this," he clarified.

"Really," she asked through a grin. Everything was piling in at a fast rate, but as she took in the information and the action itself started winding down, she was getting excited in a positive way. She sat down on the bed diagonal of Mhrende's. "So what happens now?"

"I am not certain," he admitted, "I must contact my Clan about the attack. I do not know what will be said as for you. What do you want from this?"

"What do you mean? What, is there a prize for surviving your hunting-thing?" She said it in a tone of irritation. If this was the case, she had half a mind to leave the ship. Where she'd go, she didn't know, but she couldn't handle something so morbid.

Naranarti was taken aback. He understood why such a concept would be annoying if not offensive, but the idea was absurd. "No...Oomans don't live through this, but you and the other female were special cases."

"How so?"

"She was not a..." he searched for the right word, "Killer, so she was merely catch and release because of her skill. You were i-- " He paused and slightly winced. How should he tell her? He saved her? But why her-- she would want to know, he knew. He'd spent his boredom stalking her through satellite manipulation and hacking. She'd originally caught his attention by mere coincidence. He had lost control of the Ooman satellite and lost sight of the murderous male he'd been watching. The satellite, once back into his control, had zeroed in on a a small group of Oomans in the courtyard of some kind of training facility. The facility seemed to be mostly academic. Jesse was laying on her back in the grass looking straight up into the sky while the others conversed. He eavesdropped on the conversation using his own technology. What kept his attention was her eyes. It was as though she were staring directly into the satellite, watching him watch them. It had unsettled him at first, but he listened to the odd conversation they had, until Jesse spoke up...

Jesse felt nervous. "Well, when you decide what to do with me, let me know. I'm going to nap." She rolled and tucked herself under the thin sheet. She expected there to be heavier covers, but she recalled they had a greater body heat and the ship's interior seemed oddly warm. She adjusted the odd pillow that was just an even odder assortment of fabrics and furs rolled into a shape, and turned her back to Naranarti. She knew she was safe with him, but she could feel the agitation of his not telling her anything; he didn't even finish telling her about why she was chosen, why she was even there, but she was so irritated, she didn't want to hear about it now. She closed her eyes when she heard him walk away.
*****

Naranarti walked into the cockpit and slammed his fist into the chair closest to him. Mhrende squeaked in surprise. He had been leaning against the wall watching the screen, Nanaiyude on it speaking to him. Naranarti's maneuver silenced him. He looked at Mhrende, then at his sire. He walked over and took a seat infront of the screen.

"A bit pissed off, are we?" Nanaiyude said.

"The Hish are dead," Naranarti said, ignoring the comment, "They were apart of the Ress'ys clan. Will we be seeking vengeance--"

"The Ress'ys clan-ship was dissintigrated not long after we received information from your recorded feeds," he interrupted. "S'esutuhn was infuriated at what happened to your brother and sought retaliation in an extreme-- though deserving-- manner. We are currently orbiting and have a lock on your ship. Is there anything keeping you there currently?"

"A concussion, but it will be done and gone in a few hours. Also, I have unfinished work."

"The Ooman female?" He raised his brow in curiosity.

"I wasn't referring to her."

"I see," Nanaiyude nodded and tilted his head slightly as though he could get a better look at the quiet Mhrende beyond the chair. "Speaking of which, how is she? I am told you have her on the ship."

Naranarti twisted about and glared at Mhrende. He watched the nervous hunter dismiss himself swiftly and quietly. "I'm sure you were," he said to his father as he turned back around. "She is currently resting."

Nanaiyude noticed the slight change in tone. "Is that why you came in so... unsettled? Do you not intend on bringing her home with you?"

He should have expected such a bold and direct question, and yet, he did not. "If she expresses a desire to travel with us, then, yes, I will...but it is whatever she wishes." There was a long pause between the two of them. Naranarti expected his sire to have some smart-aleck comment to tail his answer, but there was none, and he welcomed the silence. The last time their conversation turned into a quiet thought was when one of Naranarti's daughters died after her birth, the mother not long to join her. They had sat in Nanaiyude's quarters with a large bottle of C'ntlip very, very drunk talking about nothing until they stopped trying. The silence made things easier then, and it was easier on him now.

A noise from the doorway disturbed the two. Naranarti inhaled deeply to yell at Mhrende, but when he did, his nostrils were filled with the foreign scent of Jesse. He jumped out of his chair and spun around.

Jesse walked into the cockpit looking about at the controls only glancing at Naranarti. Mhrende was behind her bouncing and reaching at her nervously-- he had tried to stop her from going in but was too afraid to actually touch her. She had her fill of sleep and had came to a painful decision. "Nara, I wanted to talk to you for a moment," she said. She began to show him more attention, and she noticed the screen behind him. On it was another one of them but paler and lighter hair. The one on the screen couldn't see her it seemed and was moving about and typing on his own console in agitation. He spoke, but she couldn't understand them.

"[She's in here!?]" Nanaiyude exclaimed. "[I want to see her! Move your camera, dammit!]"

"[Stop it, or you will frighten her with all your screaming, crazy old fool,]" Naranarti hissed at him over his shoulder.

"[Who do you think you are calling a fool!? I'm old and crazy, but just because you're an Arbitrator doesn't mean I can't beat you unconscious like a child!]"

Naranarti charged forward and took Jesse by the arms in gentle aggression. He ushered her out with little protest. Shutting the door behind him, he gave Mhrende a shove into the hallway and a warning hiss. Mhrende dashed down the corridor to avoid anymore trouble. Naranarti turned his attention back to Jesse; he nodded to her a bit more pleasantly, though he expected he still seemed hostile.

Jesse's eyes shifted with uncertainty before resting back on Naranarti. "If this is a bad time, then I can wait." He shook his head slightly and made a hand gesture for her to continue. Jesse's curiosity peeked, however. "Um, who was it on your screen? Was he mad I interrupted...or that I'm here?"

Naranarti trilled lightly. He was put at ease by these questions. He was concerned she wished to ask him more about why she was even on the ship from the start. "His name is Na-nai-yu-de," he sounded it out for her. He had to find the right words to speak to her further. "He is our Clan's leader...and my father."

"Really?!" Jesse pushed passed him to peer through the door's window at the screen still on. Nanaiyude was staring off from the screen, waiting. Having only seen four of their race, this fifth intrigued her greatly. He didn't look like the one who had been skinned, who they believed was related to Naranarti, but he did share many of Naranarti's features. She had been able to see how individual they all appeared, especially Mhrende and Naranarti-- Mhrende's cheekbones and upper mandibles were higher on his face than the others. Naranarti's father was a mirror into his future, save the eye color.

"We were not discussing anything important," he continued, a mandible twitching into a smirk, "He was actually wanting a better look at you."

"Oh," she turned back around to him. She needed to get her point out before she lost it in her own curiosity and intrigue. Every step she was taking was drawing her closer into his world, and she needed to step out of it. "Look, I don't know what you've decided to do about me, and I don't know what situation you've been put into because of me, but I think it would be best if you threw me back into cryo and took me home-- to Earth, to my planet. It really won't matter much where you drop me off there."

Naranarti's shoulders sank, and he tried to hold his posture as she spoke. Still, he could feel the sinking in his chest.

"I think it would be best for the both of us. And I can think of a million reasons to hang around-- just to serve my own desire for knowledge, I want to stay, but..." she shook her head. "It would be bad for me to stay. As a human, I need to be near other humans, so...yeah."

Naranarti felt like swallowing his plasma castor, but it helped that she "wanted" to stay. He knew she was smart and that she was right-- humans need other humans, like how Yautja could not psychologically function when alone. He nodded as a reply. He couldn't speak, though; he didn't know what to say. He couldn't even manage a if-that-is-what-you-want. He motioned down the hall from which they came originally.

They walked in silence until they reached a dark room lined with electricals and airduct-tubing, all of which led into the fifteen cryogenic freezing pods. She remembered seeing one as a special project display at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology during a seminar several years ago, but these were quite different. She shook herself of wanting to question the alien technology. Naranarti approached the pod she was originally in and uploaded the information for her survival. When it was ready, he took her hand and helped her inside. Jesse wanted to say something before she slept, but she couldn't come up with anything. He waited, seeing the look on her face, but she merely laid down and looked away with an awkward smile.

Naranarti closed the lid and turned on the support-controls. He watched her eyes shut for a deep sleep before leaving the room. Mhrende was heading down the hall in search for him. Before he could question or even greet him, Naranarti brushed by him without the slightest acknowledgement.

Mhrende was pressed against the wall as he watched his leader march back to the control room. He slid down and sat on the floor in misery. He knew where he took the female Ooman. If she was put into cryo, then they were taking her back to her world; and from what Nanaiyude told him and his own observations, Naranarti was going to be in a sour mood at least until he forgot her. As much as he hated to admit it, Mhrende had few friends that would defend him, especially since M'yreti's death. Naranarti was his last wall to shadow against the more hostile members of their Clan. Considering the circumstances, Mhrende wasn't going to become a Warrior for another three or four seasons, and he would lose what little respect he had upon his return home. At this point, he had half a mind to go with the Ooman for sake of survival.
****************************************************************************

Naranarti yanked Mhrende from his bunk and onto the floor. "When I say wake up, I mean it," he said harshly. Mhrende yelped and hissed as he hit the floor. When he realized what had happened, he braced for a kick in the gut, but received none. "Get up, dammit!" Naranarti barked.

Mhrende rolled and jumped to his feet. "What is happening? Are we under attack!?"

"No, stupid," he replied coolly. "Get your gear and meet me at the camp." Naranarti walked down the hall leaving Mhrende to refix his armor.

After some time, Mhrende left the ship, which had been resettled into its original place near the encampment, and ran through the jungle to meet Naranarti. His teacher had already disposed of the stray bodies with the acid-solution he carried for cleaning up messes. M'yreti's and Seliklei's bodies were wrapped and laid out onto a draggable stretcher for return for proper rites. He had already gotten the camp back in order, surprisingly, but then Naranarti was very fast at this. He remembered how a class of unbloods had destroyed their sparring room during a petty but vicious fight not minutes before Mhrende's own class was to begin. Nanaiyude broke it up, and Naranarti was left to pick up the pieces. Maybe his abilities of deduction made the menial tasks seem as effortless as blinking or breathing.

Naranarti noticed him. "I assumed that was yours." He motioned to the skeletal remains of the Ooman he had killed earlier. "Get to cleaning it," he ordered.

Mhrende nodded. A steam-searing machine was next to the carcass along with a trophy sack. Mhrende trilled and started work. Naranarti was allowing him to finish work on his trophy, and this meant there was a possible hope of his promotion.

Naranarti was at work searing the flesh from the two Hish skulls, the third being obliterated in the explosion. He had used a preservative coating on the Hish hand, Jesse's little piece of triumph, and it was shaped by full rigor to be able to hold something if desired. Maybe he could fasten a large stone, gem or trinket to it-- she would like that. Not that it would matter, now. She was leaving, unable to bring her trophies with her. She would go back to her world, and he to his...dull, monotonous, little world. Abduct Oomans, drop off Oomans, kill Oomans, go home. Oh, the familiar pattern!

Ulij's head, he would keep to himself, while Lajar'un's would grace the walls of the class trophy room on his ship. It was the one room he wished not for Jesse to see-- concerned it would bother or frighten her. Those walls were covered in skulls that had collectively been claimed by his classes over the seasons. This one, he would mark specially, however. It was not a trophy for Mhrende or even himself. He knew the old Ooman male had killed Lajar'un. As he was dead, it seemed fitting that Jesse would "inherit" it; but as she was going to be gone, it would collect dust on his ship, another reminder of what he lost on this hunt...

Naranarti gathered the broken bones and headed toward the pillar. He had pulled away the chains and resettled the ground below it. He dropped the mess onto the remade pile and glanced over at Mhrende.

Mhrende had finished searing the skin from his trophies and was clutching a small pile of unusable bones in anticipation. He leaped to his feet when Naranarti motioned for him to approach the pillar. He slowed himself to keep from seeming too eager, but Naranarti had noticed and trilled lightly.

"Mhrende," Naranarti addressed him. "Your kill is worthy of Paya's blessing. Discard what is unusable at her tusk."

He didn't know how to go about it, even though he'd watched Naranarti do it second ago. He took an extra step to the pillar and dropped the bones so they fell from his arms in a cascade of clanks. He stepped back and retook his place, but Naranarti put a hand on his back and pushed him forward.

"We're not done, yet," Naranarti trilled. He imagined Mhrende was nervous and uncertain about the ritual. Naranarti could sympathize. "You have killed many beasts and many more of the Kainde Amedha. For that, you were worth of this Kv'var. You were set to hunt sentient prey: Pyode Amedha. I know you sulk because out of the six Oomans, you only killed one. However, you captured another, survived a Hish attack, and showed mercy as I had intended you to do with Jess'si'deinz." He paused at her name. Mhrende beamed and chirped involuntarily to hear his successes. "You survived a Hish attack," he continued with a tone of sadness. "Where the others did not. I know you suffered the doubts of you peers, but you have proved their folly. Not only are you a Warrior today, but starting when we leave this encampment, your training as an Elite will begin under my direct and sole supervision."

Mhrende stifled. He did not expect such an honor. Naranarti saw his doubt, though.

"You think you aren't worthy? Any other teacher would make you Warrior then send you on your way. I am not any other teacher. I recognize the areas you falter-- all you need is extra fine practice, and then there will be no faltering. Do you accept this, Warrior Mhrende, son of Warrior-Surgeon Denarde and Honored Yari'mso of Neyen'ku Clan?"

Mhrende didn't think twice on what he did, and he hoped that it was close to the proper thing to do. He reached out and pressed his hand on the pillar as he answered, "Yes, I accept, Arbitrator-Elite Naranarti, son of Elder Warrior-Elite and leader Nanaiyude and Matron S'es--"

Naranarti trilled as he cut him off. "It's fine, Mhrende; the formalities were for your sake." He looked up at the pillar and placed his own hand on it. He thought about what Ulij said concerning their religion and rituals: stupid, pathetic, senseless. As often as he viewed the pillar as sacred, it really was not from the mythical stories of Paya. It was sacred because of this-- what was happening. A step into Warrior-hood, and it was a symbol to make it real for them. That was what made it sacred and whay gave it meaning. He returned his attentions to Mhrende, who let out a purr as he stared at the pillar. Naranarti reached out and laid a hand on Mhrende's shoulder. He gently shook it, the common greeting among Yautja. This was not so common, though. He greeting Mhrende in a whole new light, the little Warrior.
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The Fighting Irish: To Hell and Back, With Love