Against all odds.

The ship was old. Very old. But then Thwei-guan had known that when she'd acquired it. Old, decrepit, used, and abused by many clans before she'd managed to gain ownership of it, but none of that mattered now. It was hers, and she was extremely proud of it. At a mere sixty-one years of age, not only was she a Blooded Warrior, but she now had a ship of her own. It was a pair of achievements that should have been impossible for her to attain.

She knew that she hadn't been provided with the same advantages that most Yautja had. Her bearer had been cast out of her clan for mating with an unblooded male and becoming pregnant as a result of that mating. After leaving her in the community crèche, her bearer had been forced to go on a hunt to provide for her. It was on that hunt that her bearer had vanished, and was presumed dead. The end result was that Thwei-guan had been raised in the community crèche as an orphan by the priests and priestess' of Paya.

Although many were blooded, none of the priests or priestess' had anything exceptional by way of training, and thus what little training they could provide was truly substandard. Thwei-guan had known from an early age that none of the Elders who served in the community crèche thought that she would ever become a Blooded Hunter. There were simply too many disadvantages stacked against her. But she had been determined to make something of herself. She had fought long and hard to learn everything that those Elders were willing to teach her. Then, she had allowed herself to suffer a severe form of humiliation. Knowing that she would never be able to afford a proper set of awu'asa, she had hired herself out as a living punching bag to be used as a practice opponent for those clans who could afford to provide proper training and opponents for their unblooded warriors.

There was one advantage that she had going for her, as she hired herself out as a training opponent. The advantage was that she was a female. Being larger, and stronger than the males she was training against, made her a favorable and desired training opponent. Few if any other females would ever stoop to such a level, but she had little choice if she wanted to improve her lot in life. She knew that hiring herself out in such a fashion was only a single step above that of a female who had been crippled, and unable to enter the community crèche for some reason. The only other option was an extremely rare means of survival employed by one who could only support herself by hiring her body out for the purpose of fruitless breeding. She knew that though such means of survival was not considered respectable in the least, it was not punishable. Still, there was no way that she would allow herself to sink to such a level. She would rather be beaten to within a nok of her life by every unblood on the planet first.

Each night, she had returned to the community crèche battered, bloodied, and beaten, but still she kept on. The credit that she earned from doing such things went towards her first set of armor, and still she continued. She persevered because as much as she was quite often deliberately humiliated by the unblooded warriors that she fought against, she was also learning from them. Each beating, each humiliation, and each defeat became another valuably learned lesson in her self-made school of very hard knocks.

Upon finally attaining enough credit to acquire a used and battered set of armor and weapons, she decided that she was ready for her Chiva. She knew that she was still very young, but she had no choice in the matter. In her mind it was a case of now or never. She had no clan to sponsor her, no clan Elder to provide any encouragement or last minute advice, and she had to endure the numerous snide remarks and snickering comments from the other candidates in silence as she mentally prepared herself for the trial. It hadn't been easy. Each of the other candidates taking their Chiva had partnered with another candidate from their own clan, and sometimes even with a candidate from another clan. Each of the others had therefore had someone to watch their back, while she was forced to face hers alone. Dire threats from the more muscular males who were older than she was, made certain that she was alone when she ran into no less than a dozen of the Hard Meat drones. With used and improper weaponry, she had fought her way through them on pure luck, staunch determination, and sheer will. But she had not emerged unscathed. Bruised, battered, broken, bleeding, and nearly dead, she had returned to the ship with three skulls, eleven tail blades, and scores of long deadly teeth. After the battle, she had placed upon her mask the symbol of a Blooded Warrior, but without a clan affiliation, she could not in honor, mark her forehead.

In spite of numerous injections of healing gel, she had still spent two weeks in the medbay of the ship before she was strong enough to leave under her own strength. Then there was the ceremony in which warriors would receive the bead of prowess that proclaimed them to be a Blooded Warrior. The beads awaited them on a podium. Behind that podium waited the various Elders, and in one case, the Matriarch of that warrior's clan to present the bead of prowess that had been so hard won. No such Elder waited to present hers. After each of the others had been presented with their bead, she had made her limping way to the podium to take the only bead left. The last bead which was meant for her. There was no one to present it to her, no one was there to congratulate her on her success, and no one was there to affix the bead on one of her fleshy tendrils. That action, which was the single most deciding moment of a young Yautja's life, had been left for her to do for herself. She had taken the bead and slipped it onto the end of her right foremost tendril, and then, with a deep breath and trembling hands, she had forced it upwards so that it would remain permanently in place. Her teeth ground together, and her mandibles clenched in unbearable agony as she forced that single bead upwards, but she had done it. Then, even as her entire body trembled from the agony of fixing that bead in place, she turned to face all of the others who had also taken that Chiva. She flared her mandibles and allowed her chest to swell in triumph at a success that none had believed she would ever attain.

Upon reaching the age of forty, and entering her first breeding cycle, she was forced to endure severe frustration by males that wouldn't even look at her because in spite of being Blooded, she had no clan affiliation. It had been a humiliating realization for her. Caught in the relentless grip of her season, and unable to gain a male, she had locked herself in her room in the community halls. Tears of helpless frustration and pain poured from her deep-set green eyes as she silently endured the incredible agony of her body's constant and urgent demands for one of the males that she could easily smell. When that had finally ended, she had once again swallowed her pride and hired her body out as a living punching bag.

This time around, things had been slightly different. She was now a Young Blood, and the credit she gained from the training bouts was much greater than before. Each day she fought anew, and each day she returned to her squalid room a bloodied mess of fresh wounds. But she learned, she learned from each defeat, she listened carefully to each of the lessons and instructions that the trainers gave her opponents, and she took them to heart. During her time alone, she practiced diligently. Slowly she gained in skill and expertise, even though she considered herself to be still far behind those who had a clan to back and support them, she still persevered. As she gained in skill with the weapons, she also learned how to downplay that skill to those she was hired to train against. It meant that she still suffered each night, but it also meant that she was hired more often, and paid more for each session.

Now, at the very young age of sixty-one years old, she had attained her own vessel. It was old and wasn't considered to be much by any stretch of the imagination, but it was completely hers. Thwei-guan's chest swelled with pride each time she looked around the old and battered hunting vessel. With this ship, she would be able to hunt for the trophies she needed to gain the attention of a clan, and possibly, hopefully, a clan affiliation. It had seemed such a lofty and impossible dream when she had been a mere pup, but now, almost unbelievably, it was a goal that was actually within her reach.

Thwei-guan stepped from the shower room that was barely large enough for four to use, and walked the few short steps to the room she had made into her quarters. Designed to hold as many as thirty Chiva candidates in three rows of five stacked bunks along each wall, the room was not overly large, but it suited her needs perfectly. She stepped over to the specially made mirror that she'd taken from the room formerly used by the Ship's four training Elders, and examined her appearance. At nine foot four inches tall as the oomans measured things, or eight and a half Nok by Yautja measurements, she had finally grown to her full height. She didn't have the large bulky musculature of other females who'd had the benefit of a clan to feed them properly while they were still pups, but the lean wiry muscles that she did have, still packed a lot of strength for her size. The grayish green coloration of her skin didn't show up to her heat sensitive eyes, nor did the creamy tan color of her stomach. What did show up, were the numerous scars from her many hard fought battles.

There, on her left thigh, were the matching twin scars that she received before she'd ever become Blooded. During a hired training session, an unblooded male had dishonorably used his wrist blades to impale her leg. Flying into a rage, she had ripped away his mask and torn all four of his mandibles off his face before raking her claws down the right side of his face, taking out that eye in the process, and marking him forever. The training Elder had been infuriated with her, and threatened to have her whipped for permanently disfiguring the male. She in turn then threatened to go before the council of Arbitrators to accuse the male and the training Elder of dishonor, since only the use of the spear had been specified. It was only then, that the Elder realized that by threatening her with punishment afterward, that his threat of punishment had in fact condoned the dishonorable actions of the young male.

The rather nasty scar on her lower right abdomen, just above the line where her belt would be if she were wearing it, was one of the scars that she was proud of. She had gained that one during her Chiva, when a Kainde Amedha impaled her with its tail blade while she was facing another. The matching scar just below her left breast had been received in much the same way during that trial. Then there was the surgical looking scar that ran straight up from the center of her stomach to end right between her breasts. That one she had gotten almost right after the first two, when she'd been too injured to avoid a slash of the final hard meat's tail. She knew that she had two matching scars on her back from being impaled by those two hard meat drones, and that she hadn't really been expected to survive the wounds. She knew that she'd have had no problem if she'd simply waited a little longer and acquired a larger amount of healing gel for her med kit, but she'd been young, and inexperienced with no one to explain everything she would need during her Chiva.

The gleaming white tusks of her mandibles twitched into a grim smile as she looked at the only two beads to grace the foremost fleshy tendrils on her head. The first, which was on the left side, was engraved with the name of her now deceased bearer. The second, which was in the position of honor on her first right side tendril, proclaimed her a Blooded Warrior who had passed her Chiva. She knew that other Yautja her age, had many more beads than she did. Beads that proclaimed the Honored Warrior or clan Elder who had trained them, beads that named some of the various Elders and Ancients of their clan, beads that were engraved with the name of their clan's Matriarch, and finally, the bead that declared the clan one belonged to. They were beads that she didn't have, but were also ones that she swore she would earn.

After dressing, she went to the room that served the triple purpose of training room, dinning hall, and study hall. It was the room that held the interface for the educational computer, and also where she had her prized trophies and awu'asa on display. Thwei-guan smiled brightly at the thought of one of the true treasures that this old ship held. She knew that this ship had been around for a number of centuries, and maybe as long as a few millennia, and during all that time, each scrap of language that the crew had obtained, each piece of knowledge that was acquired by those onboard, had been copied into this computer. With proper use, she could learn the techniques of those who had passed through this ship on their way to their own Chiva. She could learn many of the things that hadn't been available to her in the community crèche. Lately, she had been devoutly zealous in her studies to learn one particular language.

It was the language of those usually considered prey. Usually, but not always. She had found some records in the ancient computer where occasional members of this strange species had, on certain rare occasions, proven themselves worthy to live among the Yautja. Sometimes, they were even Warriors. Thwei-guan found it to be as unbelievable as it was fascinating, and she was diligent in her efforts to learn this language. For more than three years now, she had sat and studied this strange language on a daily basis. Struggling, and sometimes stammering, she was gaining steadily in her proficiency with it. At times, she found it difficult and frustrating, but other times it seemed so simple. The word 'bear' for example, usually meant a type of creature, but could also mean to carry a tremendous weight or load, and that was said the same way as a different word that meant nude or devoid of covering. Yes, the language of the oomans was a strange one, but learning it would serve her well on the hunt that she was preparing for.

Thwei-guan studied the rather difficult ooman language for nearly two hours as they measured time, before she had to stop. This was the final day of hired training matches before she left on her hunt. After this training session was over, she would have the credit to gain the last of the supplies that she thought might be needed for the trip. She had thoroughly learned the lesson from her Chiva, and would be taking along more than triple what she thought would be needed. More than three times the healing gel that had been used on her after her Chiva, and enough food supplies to last a full crew of thirty four hunters for three months, she had enough standard supplies to last more than an ooman year. Lately, she had been earning the credit to purchase a second and much better set of weapons and armor. The set she had her eyes on wasn't quite new, but it was very close to it.

While most of the armor was standard, it was the gauntlets, and battle mask that had caught her eyes. Unlike her current mask, this newer version had the capability to link to her ship's computer systems and allow her to access any of the information contained in the computer. The wrist computer in the left gauntlet was much more advanced than her current model which only held thermal and cloaking controls for her mesh, along with the standard self destruct. The new wrist computer would link to her mask and map out any of her surroundings, as well as many other features. The right gauntlet had a beautiful pair of blades that could be extended twice, and it even had an inertial magnification glove that would allow the user to punch through many types of material. Then there were the acid resistant boots. Unlike her current sandals, these would protect her feet from the acidic blood of any Hard Meat she might encounter. She couldn't wait to get her claws on that beautiful set of awu'asa.

Delighted thoughts of the new armor danced in her mind as she headed to her room to don her clothing that was worn beneath a set of armor. Her mandibles twitched and nearly flared in disgusted dismay at the ratty and nearly worn out set of furs on her bed that had very little fur left on them. Used by who knew how many others before her, they had been given to her by the Priests at the community crèche. She shook her head at the thought of how almost everything she had was used and handed down from others. The only things that she owned which hadn't been owned by someone else were her two beads of prowess, and her clothing. No matter how much credit she'd spent on her clothing, there was no way that she was going to wear something that personal which had already been worn by someone else.

She quickly removed her top and donned the band of cloth that was worn around her breasts beneath her shoulder armor. Then, she went back to the multi use common room and put her shoulder armor on before seating the chest piece properly and comfortably over her breasts. Then, she put on her shin guards, and knee plates. Thigh plates followed those. Finally she donned her gauntlets and placed her mask on her belt. She had learned that it was a serious breach of etiquette for a lone Yautja to wear one's mask in public and hide one's face. It was something that only a person with something to hide would do, and those who did so were almost always bad bloods. There were two exceptions though. The first was that if one was accompanied by someone who wasn't masked. The only other exception was armor that was ceremonial and highly decorated, because then one was displaying the unusually rich and ornate embellishments on the armor.

She stepped over to the wall that held both her weapons and the few trophies that she had to her name. Even though she only had those trophies she'd had with her as she returned from her Chiva, she was still proud of them. She retrieved her spear and one of the long swords from her small cache of weapons and placed them in their retaining straps. Her spear attached to her left thigh, and the sword was strapped to her back. Heading back to her room for a brief moment, she glanced in the mirror to gauge her appearance. Then, judging that she was ready, she left her room and secured the controls to her ship before she left.

Parked on one of many public landing ports on the outskirts the city she sort of resided in, her ship was just one of many. She couldn't help but notice how it stood dull and tarnished next to the much newer and better equipped vessels. Knowing that she wouldn't have either the time or the credit to deal with the problem until she returned from her hunting trip, Thwei-guan ignored it. Then, as she was leaving the landing pad, she spotted an all too familiar face.

At nine and a half ooman feet, the woman was a touch taller than herself. There was a grayish cast to the mottled green skin, and the beads on the female's dread lock like tendrils indicated that she was a Clan Matriarch. Not that she needed to read those beads to know that bit of information. This was the same Matriarch that had attended the Blooding ceremony in which she had been forced to retrieve her own bead of prowess over twenty years ago. Thwei-guan had seen this Matriarch almost every day since that time. As she usually did, the Matriarch took one pointed and obvious glance at the beads on her tendrils, before she displayed an expression of angry disgust while looking away and walking on.

By now, Thwei-guan was well accustomed to such treatment, and though she tried not to let it show, it still made her blood burn with humiliation and embarrassment. She knew better than to provoke the Matriarch with a challenge. Not only was the other female better trained with more experience and better skills, but there was also the response of the female's clan to consider. Even if she were to somehow win in a battle against the other female, the other members of the female's clan would begin to challenge her at every opportunity, and eventually kill her. Thwei-guan had no choice but to ignore the slight, and continue on her way. It was simply one more disadvantage of being without a clan.

Strong legs carried her in a steady purpose filled stride towards the center of the city where she would enter the home complex of the clan that had hired her for today's matches. She shook her head as she tried not to think about the strange twisted irony of the situation. The clan that had hired her was one that did so almost constantly. She could actually name many of the clan's Elders, Trainers, Young Bloods, and unblooded warriors on sight. She quickly accepted each offer that this clan made for her services, because they always paid her far more credit than the other clans. The irony was that this was the same clan that belonged to the Matriarch who seemed to be constantly trying to provoke her.

Still on the outskirts of the city, she knew that most of the buildings and structures that she passed at this point belonged to various clans who had run out of space near the city's center. She looked at the larger and more ornate structures that symbolized the more prominent clans with a gaze that was full of longing. The mere thought of being able to learn from several experienced Elders on a daily basis was enough to make her heart ache from the multitude of possibilities she could have while living there.