I do not own Alien, Predator, or Alien versus Predator. In my headcanon Yautja and Hish which are both different names proposed for the Predator species are specific Predator ethnicities. The Jungle Hunter and the City Hunter were both Yautja as were the Predators in the two AVP movies, but the Super Predators in Predators and The Predator were Hish.
The shining black exoskeleton of the Xenomorph glimmered in the flickering lights of Weyland-Yutani research facility K9GH472. This beast and its hive, the pinnacle of biological evolution, had already destroyed much of the facility and killed everyone except Kate herself—the genetic information of her colleagues and friends—and the marines assigned to protect them—now all coursed through the hive—and the one gleaming in the flickering lights was ready to bring Kate's essence into the hive.
She had to admit for a twenty-nine-year-old exobiologist of medium height and build, she'd put up an impressive last stand. She'd managed to kill at least two Xenomorphs with a fallen marine's machine gun before being forced into one of the subterranean research rooms. Her gun had just run empty. The Xenomorphs' diamond hard skin was very hard to get through—but it could break under repeated pressure—hence the massive expulsion of ammo. During her flight from the Xenomorphs she had tripped on a marine's body on the stairs and torn a ligament in an ankle. She could no longer run.
A Xenomorph had entered the room from its opposite entrance and jumped on the operating table, hissing at her. She'd fired her gun into its skull until the gun was empty. Now the beast stood on the table, facing her with a grin of knives though it was not actually grinning, looking at her in preparation for its attack, though it did not actually have eyes. It jumped toward her and self-preservation kicked in.
She banged its skull with her empty gun again and again and again.
It could not move forward for the disorienting pain.
As Kate came to a realization of what she was doing, she noticed the bloody bullet holes dripping with acid. She repeatedly banged the gun on these until the creature blacked out. She then scanned the room desperately for something to kill the creature.
She saw a syringe she recognized in a set of tools near the sink just above her position. There was a syringe containing a neurotoxin to be used when specimens got out of hand. It could penetrate the exoskeleton. Grunting as she turned, she struggled to grip the instrument-turned-weapon. She brought it back to the unconscious Xenomorph and injected the high-power paralytic directly into its brain—the entire syringe. The beast spasmed violently, but then it lay still and never moved again.
Kate breathed a sigh of relief, but her situation had not really changed. The lab was still under Xenomorph control and any of the drones could come down and finish what the other had started. It was only a matter of time. Kate felt her heart sink as she heard a distinctive trilling.
A Predator…
"Impressive, ooman." A hunter decloaked. She noticed a decorative "scar" on the mask running through one of the eyes. "The soft meat is even more resilient prey than the hard. You are the last ooman left. I had intended to hunt you when my clan and I finished the hard meat. But now, you are injured. It wouldn't be fair. What are we to do?"
Bakuub picked up the ooman female with one hand supporting her lower back and one between her shoulders. She hadn't protested, which was strange considering the fight she'd put up against the hard meat. Then again, her injury made her incapable of running, or even standing very well—hence the dilemma. She had proven herself to be worthy prey in combat, but could not be hunted fairly until her injuries had healed.
Perhaps she had not protested that she was injured since he had just specifically told her he would not hunt her…or not yet at least.
She remained quiet as Bakuub carried her through the ruined building. Two other Yautja decloaked as Bakuub walked down the hallway. Yeyin-Tharn'dha was short but heavily muscled and stocky. His mask bore tusks. Guan-Thwei was taller and leaner, though his muscles were just as toned. The eyes of his mask were oval in shape. He was the usual leader on hunts.
"Did you clear the hard meat from the lower levels" he asked in his native tongue.
"They are all dead, but I did not slay all of them. The best of the soft meat killed many."
The gaze of the other two Yautja fell on the ooman female he carried in his arms.
"This one was the strongest of all. She killed three hard meat and still lives, but an injury has cost her mobility. She would be worthy prey for one of us once her injury heals."
Yeyin-Tharn'dha switched the light spectrums in his mask. There was something about her clothing…when he was seeing in the soft meat's visual spectrum he noticed that her clothing was white.
"She's a technician! She couldn't possibly have killed three hard meat by herself!"
"But she did. I saw her."
Bakuub noted all of the deficiencies with the ooman. She was very light for him to carry and she was not all that strong, but she had bested three hard meat.
"Well if she were not wounded, you could hunt her. But now she is no good to anyone as a trophy," Guan-Thwei said. "There are no more hard meat here, and in time ooman rescuers will come. It would be best to just leave her here."
Bakuub balked at the suggestion.
"And just exactly when will we be back on this world again?"
"I have no idea."
"We could be gone for centuries. Oomans have far shorter lifespans than we do. I don't want to lose the chance to collect this trophy."
Yeyin-Tharn'dha trilled in amusement, but Guan-Thwei placed a reassuring hand on Bakuub's shoulder.
"I know that for the past several cycles you have not collected as many trophies as you would like, but you are a good hunter. You will have more chances."
"My recent failures are beside the point." He looked at the ooman and thought of the challenge. "We are taking her."
Kate was exhausted from her ordeal both physically and emotionally. Her body became weightless in the Hunter's powerful grasp—no, grasp was not the right word. There was no sense of restraint, only support. It was oddly relaxing—yet perhaps not that odd. She was a wounded female being supported by a strong male in armor. A lot of what she was feeling was determined by the social constructs of femininity and masculinity—the princess and her knight. There was also a lot determined biologically: he was a tall, heavily muscled, half-nude male. Her feelings had a logical explanation. That didn't mean that she was falling in love with a Predator.
The trope was common enough: a human female is rescued from Xenomorphs by a deadly but honorable Yautja hunter—always a Yautja—never a Hish—they were too deep into genetic experiments and lacked a romantic code of honor. It was of course ridiculous to idealize Yautja honor when the Predator male in these stories would have to consider the human female his equal, which meant that he'd be as likely to hunt her as to live happily ever after with her. In Kate's case the Predator had said as much—more the "I might hunt you" part, less the "We could be a couple" part.
None of this was to say that Kate wanted to be a couple with this Yautja—he had to be a Yautja, for he was to be for he was too short to be a Hish. For all that she was the product of social and biological molding she was not seriously into a Predator. Any crush would be over when he took the mask off and she saw his mouth—lipless and with four tusked mandibles. What human of either gender would want to kiss a lobster? And those yellow eyes?
Her own eyes were fluttering shut. The physical and emotional strain had taken its toll. The soothing ride was helping her slip out of consciousness. Throaty murmurings made her somewhat more lucid. She thought she could see two more Yautja who seemed to be arguing with her protector. One with a dreamy mask of his own placed a hand on her protector's shoulder. Her protector rasped something in his native tongue. There was a soothing almost seductive quality in their catlike purring. Kate felt like she could trust her Hunter to take her anywhere safe. She noticed that they were walking toward a ship. She would be safe there—the Hunters would protect her.
She felt herself being gently lowered onto a bed. Fighting the Xenomorphs and running from them was exhausting work. She wanted, needed, sleep now. Gentle hands positioned her on the bed—hands that cared for her. She felt calm envelope her completely, and then she lost all touch with reality. It didn't matter that she couldn't reason now. She would soon be rested, and her reason would return.
Bakuub lay the ooman in a comfortable position and then looked across the medical bed to Guan-Thwei. He was not much older than Bakuub or Yeyin-Tharn'dha, but the cool vessels in his warm eyes gave him an air of wisdom, usually borne out in his sage words. Such words occurred frequently in the following exchange between the two clanmates.
"The ooman only has an injury to its ankle. Most of its problems are just fatigue. An injection and it should be well enough to hunt," Bakuub said.
"This is not a well thought-out plan, little brother,"Guan-Thwei said. "In your plan she will wake up on this ship. She will know she is to be hunted. This will give her the advantage. And it may take us a while to get to a planet habitable for oomans—which we will need to do since you did not bring a bio-suit for her. We have nearer prey on other worlds. She is going to be with us for some time. We will become attached to her. It's easy to kill an enemy you've locked eyes with. A friend, less so."
Bakuub took what his clan-brother said to heart, but ultimately rejected it. He had to hunt her.
"She is worthy prey. She killed three hard meat when she had no skills. She has talent."
Guan-Thwei smirked. It was so obvious and so humorous that Guan-Thwei had to just laugh. Bakuub had a pup's crush—not on the ooman female, but on the ideal she represented.
"Bakuub, my friend, you are in love," Guan-Thwei said amidst hearty guffaws, rolling his head.
"But I like Yautja females," Bakuub protested. "Just think about it. Look at our relative body sizes and strengths: I'd probably crush her," he interrupted himself when he noticed Guan-Thwei's rolling eyes. "It's not because I'm concerned about her. I'd apply the same reasoning to an enhanced Hish female where I'd be the one in danger," he paused, "Not that I'm sure you can tell a Hish female from a male after they enhance themselves." Bakuub started to laugh but stopped when he remembered whom he was talking to.
"Sorry," he said.
Guan-Thwei shook his head and raised his palms, "My Hish blood makes up very little of my genetic code and comes from a time before they enhanced. They were just like Yautja then…only a little taller."
The two laughed for a moment before seriousness returned with Bakuub's comment, "I don't love her."
"I'm sure you aren't really physically attracted to her, but you are attracted to an idea she represents."
Bakuub twisted his mandibles in confusion. "What do you mean 'idea?' My idea of her is worthy prey, no more, no less."
"But what is it that makes her worthy prey in your sight? Guan-Thwei asked his friend, trying to talk some reason into him.
"I've already told you: she had no experience killing hard meat but was still very good at it."
"Which is exactly what we want in our females but seldom get," Guan-Thwei said.
"Don't psychoanalyze me," Bakuub said. "I'm hunting her!"