Predators Two
by Fred S. Loeper
I
When Lt. Commander Kaspian Moonstone awakened he tried to judge his surroundings without opening his eyes. Hearing was the first sense to use. He judged he was in a spacious room by the sounds echoing through it. Smell was the second sense and, to his surprise, he smelled cooking. He opened his eyelids ever so slightly. This wouldn't fool anyone who was deliberately looking. And anyway, he knew where he was. He dropped all pretense and opened them.
The immediate surroundings were decent enough. It was a prison of some type, that was for sure and exactly what he expected. He sat up on a plain bench. The room was well lit and airy though he could not find the light source or hear any ventilation. He stood up and walked around his surprisingly large room.
"You awake yet? You are. I can hear you. Talk to me. You must be a Star Fleet Officer."
Moonstone saw no reason not to talk to him and plenty reasons why he should. The voice came from the room next to his.
"What's your name?" Moonstone asked.
"I know yours. Lt. Commander Capricorn Moonstone."
"Ka-" Moonstone paused. Misinformation may be an advantage here. "What of it?"
"Want to get the notion that their intelligence may be faulty out of your head. They know so much more about you than you can ever know about them."
"That's why I'm here," said Moonstone as he explored the room
The voice laughed. "Pretty silly idea, don't you think? You'll have no trouble transgressing your precious Prime Directive here."
"That's not the intent."
"Isn't it?" Moonstone listened to the voice. Deep, rich, humanoid obviously. But not of Earth.
"Then I guess you know why I'm really here."
"I think so," said the deep voice. "And you're wasting your time."
"Actually, I agree with you. But I'm under orders so to speak."
"Always an excuse available," There was a short pause. "You ready to fight them one on one? You should have seen the last fight. A Vulcan with a light saber going up against a xenomorph. Should have seen it." The voice chuckled.
"So who won?"
He got no answer. "If you're not fighting one of their own then they give you a fifty-fifty chance of coming out of it."
"And when you fight one of theirs?"
"Still have a chance. They are a predatory race. But there is a sense of honor about them. You stand a 40% of winning. I've done it twice...and won both times obviously."
"Where did they get a light saber?"
"Can't say. Can't be too hard to get." It was but Moonstone said nothing. Of course, light sabers can be constructed.
"Your intel seems reliable."
"Better be," the disembodied voice said. "You're fighting tomorrow."
"Against?"
There was a chuckle. "You won't believe it. You'll be fighting two Predators." More chuckling.
"I don't suppose they'll give me a light saber?"
"Too easy for you, even against two of them. They're strong and tough. But not so quick. Certainly not Jedi quick. You'll probably get one of their spears. It's a good weapon, but you may not have time to learn it well."
Moonstone thought for a moment. He was trying to place the other person. He thought he had it.
"Dragorn. The Klingon mercenary. How's business been?"
"You got your own worries. Are you familiar with their weapons?"
"I hope they don't have that shoulder mounted laser."
"Only short range stuff in the arena. But watch out for the net. No escaping that. One of them will be sure to have one. It has a red handle. If they reach for it you better have a kill shot ready."
"Understood."
"That's about all I can tell you. Except that your mission here is in vain."
Moonstone thought for a moment. Is there a leak in Star Fleet Command?
"OK. I'll bite. How so?"
The voice continued. "These are a predatory, war-like species. But they have no desire to go to war with the Federation. They prefer close, hand-to-hand combat. Phasers would rout them. They don't have anything like it. But they also know enough that Star Fleet will not attack them based on principal."
"I figure you're right."
"Enjoy the day. You're first up tomorrow."
He was. He was right - it was Dragorn, the Klingon mercenary (a rare thing). Dragorn entered his room and escorted him to the "dressing" room. Moonstone was already dressed but used the time to question Dragorn some more, especially about the weapon.
"This is a basic Predator spear. Collapsed it is about a meter in length. Feel it. Very sturdy, takes lots of punishment and deals out lots of punishment. Three main buttons. This one extends the front another meter and this back one meter."
"Am I really expected to be competitive against two adult Predators with just this?"
"You're a Jedi. Mind trick them."
Moonstone doubted that.
"One last piece of advice. Don't look directly into the Sun."
Moonstone couldn't figure out why he should want to.
Moonstone stood in the middle of the arena. From his judgments it had a diameter of some one hundred-fifty feet; large enough for a couple of runs if he needed it. He hefted the weapon. Strong enough and with several buttons. No time like the present to learn.
He soon learned some of its features. He learned how collapse it and lengthen it. He learned its balance points. One end was heavier than the other and was solid built though it looked thin. For crushing he wondered? Some buttons didn't seem to do anything. It would be a mistake to assume they didn't.
He looked over the audience. Predators mostly. But here and there a Klingon, Andorian, an insect like creature he couldn't place. He made a mental note to tell Star Fleet...if he ever got back. All eyes were on him, Jedi Knight Lt. Kaspian Moonstone. But there was another set of eyes, very intent, very concerned, very weary eyes. Moonstone could not see these eyes. But they could see him. They would be locked on him and would not blink.
He heard large mechanical doors open behind him. He turned and four Predators walked forward. Two adults, lightly armed. I may have a chance yet, Moonstone thought. They were flanked by two much smaller Predators. So this is what their children looked like, almost mirror images of their adults. That shouldn't be too surprising. Moonstone figured this was some rite of passage; accompanying the adults into the arena before battle. Moonstone caught a glimpse of silver on the belt of one of the male Predators. It wasn't a weapon. What was it? It looked like a Star Fleet communicator, older model. A trophy. Must be. He heard they take trophies. Did it work, he wondered? How could he get to it if he needed it? The "children", on the other hand were well armed. That would be like them. The two adults bowed to the children. The children bowed back.
Then, in a sudden twist of expectation, the adults turned and left the arena leaving the others behind.
Predators. Two. Children.
II
No. NO! Did they know what they were doing? He was a Jedi Knight! With a single weapon a Jedi could take on four of their adults in combat. But this? Let this not be. There would be no honor. But Moonstone immediately saw the logic of it. He also immediately determined if killing was in order then killing it would be. You never under estimated your opponent. Ever. What other choice did he have? But how? How could he do it? How could he kill a child, even one of a predatory species? Just how tough were these "kids?" They both wore light armor. He examined the armor as quickly as he could. The one who appeared larger seemed to have some wear in his armor. So this isn't his first battle. The other one had no wear on his. His first combat? Likely. He looked over their weaponry. Some of the things he knew. Some not. They had too many weapons. They were bound to get in the way of each other. But he saw what he was looking for. One of them had the net. He would be the leader. Kill him and it might just be over.
He looked in their eyes, their all too intelligent eyes. So this was their rite of passage: to fight an alien species to the death. Moonstone heard they fought among themselves, like some Roman gladiator school, to see who was strongest. But now the real test was about to begin.
A ghostly, low sound chimed. The battle was on.
They separated. One to the left and one to the right. This was expected. Moonstone retreated trying to keep the two of them in sight. He pressed the top button to extend the spear. He knew that much. Each predator reached for a weapon. Moonstone could only guess at what they were. They would probably try something simple at first. Some kind of blade perhaps. And indeed one of them did just that. He flung a blade at Moonstone. An easy deflection for a Jedi even with the predator spear, he thought. And it was...except for one thing. Moonstone caught the predators covering their eyes with their forearms. He only had time to shut his. When he deflected the blade a blinding light exploded. A Sunblade. Even though Moonstone had closed his eyes he was going to be temporarily blinded. Jedi Knights were trained to fight blind. But his only training had been against remotes. This was against the living, in their arena. Their movements would be covered by the noise and soft surface. He prepared for an attack from both sides. He was half right. He made contact with the predator charging from the left. He got in a good blow but could not judge the effectiveness of it. He heard the Predator from the left charge again. He got a good blow in this time and he knew it must have hurt. His eyesight was returning. He swung blindly to the right. Nothing.
He ran straight into the heart of the arena hoping to gain some distance. Then he felt it. A blade caught his right calf. A Witchblade. His well-trained body told him immediately. The tactic had been perfect. Use a Sunblade to blind him and let the weaker one attack while the leader threw the Witchblade. Perfect. A Witchblade paralyzed three areas of your body one at a time; the place it entered, some other place that was random, and finally the heart. His right calf went numb. He could still maneuver but it would be awkward and would last for five to ten minutes. Then another part of his body would go numb.
Whether Moonstone prevailed or not had three hours to live unless he could get to a starship.
His eyesight returned faster than he thought. The two Predators didn't try to keep their distance. They pressed for the fight and this was to Moonstone's advantage. They engaged two on one using up most of their weapons, which were largely blades. But all three parties were weakening. His right calf moved well now. Then it hit again. His left arm. This was the time they had to close for the kill. Moonstone clamped his left hand as best he could on the Predator sword. At least he had leverage. Why hadn't they used the net? Moonstone reasoned that to do so too soon would be too simple. Even for ones so young there had to be an elagance to the fight. Maybe train with all their weapons as practice. But this was the arena. All engaged in a blood sport. No quarter offered. None taken. All it would take was one mistake.
Then they made it. But it was a calculated risk and they had no real reckoning to what a Jedi trained warrior would do. Moonstone didn't even know himself. But the time was now. The children Predators knew they always had the net. If all else failed just fire the net. In this they were over-confident.
It was a desperate ploy. Even if it worked he was going to die unless he could get to a starship. But no sense letting them have it their own way. Their weapons were fewer. The smaller one looked weary and slid between Moonstone and the wall preparing for an attack from behind. The older one reached for the net.
The net deployed. Moonstone would have one chance at this. He caught the corner of the net with the spear as it spread out and whipped it around sending it to the wall of the arena. The smaller Predator, having circled behind, never had a chance to avoid it. The net pinned him against the wall and immediately begin contracting.
The net caught the entire upper body of the smaller Predator and he had no chance of escape. Only his right arm at the elbow was free and, using this, he tried furiously to free himself. His legs just above the knees were free but this did him no good.
Already the net was contracting. The Predators were tough but even their weapons worked against them. The net had no fail-safe. If there were Moonstone would had to have killed this one. And it would have been easy. But there was no escape and panic set in as the net continued its relentless, cruel and biting contraction. The young Predator flailed and fought in vain as the net cut deep into its body, first sawing off the dreadful teeth, those incisors. It cut through the metal armor in less time than Moonstone thought. Then the screaming began; a sound that would haunt Moonstone to his grave.
Moonstone had the only weapon now as was plain to see. For a second it appeared the child would break into a run for it looked here and there and into the crowd as if looking for reprieve. But he was the leader and acted as such. He must have been prepared for defeat.
He ran to aid his fellow warrior and tried in vain to free him. But the net was too strong. The screams became louder. The Predator looked at Moonstone and extended both arms pointing to Moonstone's weapon. Moonstone was confused at first. The child stepped forward and thrust his arms at the spear again. Then Moonstone understood. He tossed the weapon at the feet of his remaining opponent.
The Predator grabbed it immediately, extended it, and quickly approached the slowly dying entity. He thrust the tip of the spear deep into the side and twisted it back and forth. Death could not have come soon enough as the net had now penetrated through the armor and an awful green-gray blood seeped from the lacerations. A final loud, almost baby cry came from the pinned Predator. Then merciful silence.
The Predator struggled a moment to remove the spear as if jammed into the bony structure of his mate. It finally released and the Predator spun on Moonstone, weapon at the ready. Moonstone stood stone still as the creature approached. But Moonstone trusted the Predator code. And he was right. The Predator dropped the spear at Moonstone's feet and stood tall.
Moonstone collapsed the weapon and took a step back. The child Predator stood opposite him about ten feet making no movement now. Then it did something odd, but in retrospect it was perfectly reasonable. He removed his armor, thumped his chest, held his arms up and out and yelled a throaty warrior yell.
Here! Slay me! You've won yousoft-meat-creature-from-another-world-who-needs-our-own-
weaponry-to-defeat-us. Slay me! I will die an unspotted warrior!
Moonstone didn't know what it was other than a sudden shadow that interposed between him and the child. In an instant the shadow become an adult Predator. The stance was aggressive but it was clear its purpose was to protect rather than attack. It looked slightly smaller than most adults and, besides, there was something different about the face. The eyes. Adult Predators had an ugly, pitted gray-green about the eyes. These were not pitted. These eyes were smoother and gray-pink about the eyes. This was not the male of the species. Apparently maternal instincts were still viable even among these atavistic creatures.
This was different and unexpected. He fell back in a defensive posture. He had no idea if he was now obligated to fight one of their females. It appeared weaponless. He didn't have to find out. For in one fell movement another shadow fell behind the mother and thrust the metal hand blade with great ferocity from behind through the chest. A howling scream followed accompanied with tense death throes. Then the body was flung to one side. The blade retracted.
Eyes met. But there would be no battle. Not yet, at least.
Then Moonstone saw it, the Star Fleet communicator on the armor of the male Predator. It was an early model when the transtator was first invented. Did it still work? It must have been fifty years old. He would have to time it perfectly. Wait for the right moment when he was distracted. This was almost immediately.
He lunged forward when the adult Predator's attention was diverted by the dead body hanging limp and lifeless against the wall. This was an act of aggression and would have required the adult male Predator to fight. But Moonstone was quick enough, rolled away and flipped open the communicator.
"Enterprise! Emergency overide Archamedes! Beam me up NOW!"
The adult Predator had heard of the of the magic of the Hoomans. How they could disappear. He doubted such stories. But now he saw it for himself and believed.
Had Moonstone stayed he would have witnessed a thing no hooman had ever seen.
The young Predator stood before his father and reached out his hand as if expecting something. The father removed a short, but lethally sharp, blade and gave it to his son. The young one took it, bowed, and thrust his arms high in the air releasing a terrible cry. He knelt on the arena sand, raised the blade high and thrust it deep into his chest. Once. He did not die immediately. To remove the blade would be cowardly. He prodded and twisted the blade until it found the vital organs. He knelt closer to the ground...and remained motionless.
Epilog 1
"It was a bad idea to begin with," said Moonstone somehow trying to justify his exit from the Predator's world.
Picard tried to look stern. "Your orders were to observe." Picard knew he had no authority over Moonstone and so his voice was muted. "This will mean certain promotion within Star Fleet."
"And the Federation," added Moonstone. It was true. Moonstone stood to become the third most powerful man in Star Fleet Command and the tenth most powerful in the Federation.
"It was still a bad idea and you know it." Picard's silence agreed.
Moonstone continued his convalescence in sickbay. The poison had been neutralized by Dr. Crusher but there were two weeks ahead of painful moments until Moonstone's blood completely turned over.
Epilog 2
It was night. The arena was empty. A lone male Predator stood over a blood stained patch of sand. He looked up at the stars. "I will find you. My arm will find you. My blade will find you. You will taste my blade, and I will taste your blood, soft-meat Hooman." A meteor blazed across the skies.
His gods were pleased.