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A New Alliance	By : Kehlan Category: M through R > Predator Views: 2924 -:- 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 Yautja watched as the strange looking Ooman female stood over the body of the hard meat she had just killed. She’d fought well, wielding his dead friend’s sword as though she had trained with it all her life and the kill had been a good, clean one. If some of his fellow students had fought as well, he reflected regretfully, they might still be alive to claim their trophies and their place in the clan.

Something had gone drastically wrong with the Chiva. They had all set out a few days ago, full of hope and excitement, brimming with confidence and macho pride. They would hunt the hard meats, make their kill and take their trophies, the evidence of their suitability to enter the clan as adults. No longer insignificant Unbloods, they would be warriors!

Like the others, he had watched from the windows of the drop ship as the mechanical ‘Lou’tde Kalei’ had been launched. The term was a derogatory reference to the childbearing capability of females, but it nevertheless described very well the purpose of the machine. Trundling across the countryside, it would lay its cargo of eggs, one by one. Each egg was tagged and numbered. They would mature and hatch and the parasite would find a host, eventually developing into the adult form that was the basis of the Chiva. Then the hunt would begin… and once begun would not end until all the resulting Kainde Amedha had been destroyed.

At least, that was the theory. Reality had proved somewhat different and the young warriors’ dreams of glory had quickly turned to nightmare and a desperate fight for survival. The prey should have been just plentiful enough for them to take one or two each. Instead there had been hundreds and the hunters had very quickly become the hunted.

He could do nothing for his dead companions; could not even bury them. As the lone survivor of the hunt, his priority now was to stay alive long enough to make his way back to the drop ship and report to his seniors. This mess was theirs to clear up.

No, the young Predator realised, his attention returning to the female. He was not alone. His hunt brothers might walk in Cetanu’s halls but Paya had seen fit to send him a companion. He had no idea who she was or how she had got here but she knew how to fight and had shown no aggression towards him. Alone they would both die, overwhelmed by the hard meats. Together they stood a small chance of survival.

The small female had proved herself. She had earned her trophy, and with it, his respect. He had realised earlier though, when he’d cleaned and prepared his own trophy, that she had no idea what he was doing. Time was short. More hard meats would come... and they would keep coming until he and his companion were dead or worse. The trophy must be taken quickly and then they must leave. Very well, he decided, this once he would help her with the job.

Her heart-rate slowly calming as the adrenaline faded, Kehlan looked up at the big Predator. He’d made no move to help her during the fight. She wondered suddenly if she had broken some taboo in attacking a creature that he was already fighting – but she had meant only to assist him. Why had he abdicated the fight and left her to face the creature alone? Was he angry with her for interfering? Unflinching, she met his gaze. No, he wasn’t angry, she realised. In fact, was that approval she saw in those deep-set amber eyes?

He moved towards her and squatting by the remains of the alien creature, he pulled out his knife and got to work. For the second time, Kehlan found herself watching as the Yautja began to remove the skull, cleaning it and putting it in a net bag. She was caught by surprise when, making a clicking sound with his mandibles, he reached out, offering her the bag. When she made no move to take it, he growled impatiently and pushed it into her hands. Her fingers closed reflexively around the net bag. It was heavy and she wondered what in the name of Kahless she was supposed to do with it now. But it seemed to be of some importance to him so she accepted it without argument.

Aware of the acidic blood on her weapon, Kehlan broke eye contact with the Yautja and bent to wipe the blade clean on the foliage of the nearest bush. Its large, pinnate leaves were a deep vibrant green in colour reminding Kehlan of the jungles on Terra. Plants were Kehlan’s first love; she had studied botany long before she had become a warrior and she found it interesting to see how life had developed in such similar ways on planets that were light years apart. There’d been many theories and treatises on the subject, she knew, they had formed part of her studies. Pushing the thought away and dismissing it as irrelevant for the moment, she turned her attention back to the blade in her hand. Now that the battle was over, she had time to examine the sword properly. The workmanship was exquisite and again she wondered what it was made of that it was resistant to the acid blood of the creatures it had obviously been designed to kill. Concentrating on her task, and at the same time tracking the progress of the other creature that was somewhere out there, she did not realise that the predator had spoken to her.

Annoyed with the lack of response from the Ooman female, the young Hunter closed the gap between them and bending, he placed a large, clawed hand on her shoulder, shaking it slightly to get her attention. When she looked up, he repeated himself before looking at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

Satisfied that the sword was as clean as she could get it without proper facilities, Kehlan got to her feet. She ran a finger across the blade, testing its sharpness and satisfied that it was suitable for use, she slid the sword into her belt. She stared up at the big Predator, trying to figure out what he wanted to tell her.

Mandibles flaring, he gave a growl of frustration that exposed two rows of razor sharp inner teeth before trying again, this time using gestures rather than words. Pointing to himself, he said, slowly and clearly, “Yautja” and then pointing at Kehlan, “Ooman”

Yautja. She recognized the word as the name of his species, but had never heard it pronounced correctly before. But what did ‘Ooman’ mean? Repeating the word mentally, something clicked in her mind and she could have kicked herself. He was saying that she was human!

Shaking her head, and hoping illogically that the gesture was universal, she touched the ridges on her forehead. “Klingon.”

He let out a trilling sound and repeated it. “Kling-on.”

Kehlan smiled, pleased with their admittedly limited success at communication. Pointing to herself again, she said for a second time, “Klingon.” Then she said her name, slowly and clearly. “Kehlan.”

He repeated it carefully. “Kay-lan.” Then, he gestured back at himself and said something that was completely incomprehensible to Kehlan. It had to be his name but she didn’t have the faintest idea how to pronounce it. It was becoming evident to Kehlan that the Yautja used their mandibles for communication and without them she was at a severe disadvantage. The words of his language were simply unpronounceable to her. She shrugged and shook her head, telling him wordlessly that she did not understand him.

With a growl, he repeated himself and this time she caught part of it. It sounded something like “Jau’esh’enye” but interspersed with a lot of clicking and growling sounds.

After several fruitless attempts at pronouncing his name, Kehlan was starting to get annoyed and to make it worse, she got the distinct impression that her companion was laughing at her. “Qu’vatlh” she muttered under her breath, “This is ridiculous”

She was going to have to give him a nickname she decided, but what? Nothing Klingon seemed appropriate for him. As for Terran names… well, there were several options there. But somehow, he just did not look like a Joe or a Josh. Thinking for a minute she smiled, remembering one of her favourite childhood stories, about a talking dinosaur. Reaching out, she placed her hand on his chest and said. “George!”

The newly renamed Predator let out the trilling sound that Kehlan was learning to associate with laughter. “Geo’rrrge?”

“George” Kehlan repeated firmly.
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A New Alliance