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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 mess room on the Yautja ship was much as Kehlan had imagined it to be. There were only so many ways after all that a dining hall could be laid out. The chairs and tables, were necessarily large and she felt like a young child being allowed to sit among adults for the first time as she took her place between George and Da’rian. Kihr’yende arrived a moment or two later and settled himself in the chair opposite her, next to Rakai’in, closely followed by Kva’victe and a couple of others that Kehlan did not know so well and whose names she could not remember.
Not all of the Predators would eat at once, Kehlan discovered. The clan Elder and the Elites would eat first, served by the Young Bloods who would eat later once their superiors were finished. Yeyinde was a hunting vessel and there were no aseigan on board. George had already explained that not all Yautja chose to... or could... hunt and these individuals formed the basis of the servant or aseigan class, carrying out the more menial tasks that were beneath the notice of the Hunters. . Could not hunt? What did that mean? She remembered asking him what would have happened if he had been permanently injured on a hunt? Would he have been forced to become an aseigan? George had simply stared at her, surprised that she could even ask that question. “If ever I was so catastrophically injured in a failed hunt,” he had growled, “I would end my life immediately rather than live in such dishonour.”
It had been obvious to Kehlan that her friend had little or no respect for such individuals even if he acknowledged that they had a place in the scheme of things. She was not sure how she felt about that. It was true that the warriors of her own race looked down on those who chose a different way of life but this had overtones of something darker and more oppressive. Slavery was something the Federation would not accept. But she would say nothing of that until she knew more and besides, the Yautja were not petitioning to join the Federation, all they wanted was trade and for their sovereign territories to be left alone.
One of the Young Bloods placed an enormous pitcher in the centre of the table. Reaching for it, Rakai’in, the youngest of the Elites, poured a generous measure into a large mug and handed it to his Elder who accepted it with a nod of thanks.
“Try this,” Rakai’in said, pouring a little into a mug and holding it out to Kehlan.
Leaning across the table to accept the mug, Kehlan sniffed cautiously at the liquid and immediately coughed. The fumes were almost overpowering.
“You should take only a little” Kihr’yende advised her, “By your standards it is very strong.”
He wasn’t exaggerating, Kehlan decided, whatever was in that mug was extremely potent if not borderline lethal. She nodded her thanks for the warning and suspecting she was going to live to regret it, she took a wary sip only to immediately choke as her mouth was inundated by liquid fire. The drink made Romulan Ale look like water. Regretfully she put the mug down. Drinking this stuff was not advisable when she had to go on duty shortly and she wasn’t sure she wanted the liver failure it would very likely induce. Doubtless though it would prove very popular in the Klingon Empire. “What is it called?” she asked curiously. Bit by bit she was picking up words and phrases in the Yautja language and even though she would never be able to speak it well, she was keen to improve her understanding.
“It’s called C’ntlip,” the answer came from Kva’victe, sitting on Rakai’in’s other side.
Kehlan blinked in surprise. “It’s called... what?” Surely she had misheard him. He couldn’t possibly just have said what she thought he had.
“C’nt-lip,” Rakai’in cheerfully repeated the word, breaking up the syllables and pronouncing them slowly and clearly… and somehow making them sound even more like the rude word Kehlan thought she had heard.
Curious to know why Kehlan’s body temperature had just risen, George raised his arm and typed something into the computer embedded in his gauntlet. He stared silently at the result for a moment then let out a muffled snort of amusement. “Yes... I...” He looked across at Kehlan, no longer able to hold back the trills of laughter. “The name does not translate well into Federation Standard.”
She laughed. “If you ever market this for export you might want to consider renaming it.”
While they were laughing and joking, large plates of meat were being brought out by the Young Bloods and placed in the centre of the tables. Unsure of the protocols involved Kehlan waited. Not completely to her surprise, it turned out to be the right thing to do. Apparently Yautja etiquette demanded that the Elder began his meal before anyone else.
She had seen George eat many time when they had been stuck on the planet together but it still fascinated her to watch as he skewered a piece of the highly spiced meat with his knife and brought it up to his mandibles, using his tusks to feed it neatly into his mouth. She was aware of the Hunters watching her as she tasted the food, no doubt as fascinated by her method of eating as she was by theirs. She grinned as she bit into the meat. No doubt they considered her lack of mandibles and her blunt teeth to be a disability.
The meat was, she quickly found out, extremely tender with a rich, spicy flavour. No doubt they were being given the very best cuts of the meat, anything less would be an insult to the Elder. Although not cooked, it was not raw as she had first thought. Rather it had been lightly warmed and marinated in a mix of herbs and spices. The animal it came from was called an r’jet, Da’rian told her, a large grazing animal native to a planet not far from the Yautja home-world.
The r’jet meat was quickly demolished by the hungry Predators and were followed by steaming bowls of something that George told her was called S’pke – a hot, fragrant stew made from fruits native to the Yautja homeworld. No spoons were provided and watching her companions, she quickly discovered it was meant to be drunk direct from the bowl. Raising the pottery bowl to her lips, she tasted it. The flavour was a little odd to Kehlan’s palate but not unpleasant.
Fruit was brought out and Kehlan picked up a large purple thing about the size and shape of a tennis ball and with a hard melon-like rind. She studied it with interest, wondering how it was supposed to be eaten.
George took the fruit from her and slit it open with a claw, effortlessly peeling the hard rind away. Splitting it into segments, he handed a piece to her. Internally, its appearance resembled a Terran orange but the flavour was something special… sweet and juicy with a strong resemblance to citrus but with distinct overtones of honey, full of sugars but with a good balance of acidity to prevent it from becoming cloying.
“It is called Naxa,” Kihr’yende informed her with an amused trill. Sitting opposite her, he’d had a good view of the expression on her face as she had tasted the fruit for the first time.
Wiping away the juice that was running down her chin, Kehlan took another bite, savouring the morsel before swallowing it and turning to her friend. “I warn you, George,” she said, “If you don’t agree to export these to the Klingon Empire, there is going to be war between us!”
George just grinned and handed her another piece. “More?”
***
Well, there's been no reviews for a very long time now, I guess no-one is reading any more. If you are there still reading, please leave a quick review or comment to let me know what you think... it would be much appreciated.
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A New Alliance