Stealing Prey

by Dragonfiz

What do you get when two serious blooded yautjas meet up with a seasoned street fighter & gung fu trained martial artist...and there is heated question of who stole from whom? You get.. a lot of kick ass action and we’ll just have to see which side wins

Stealing Prey

Nubian Dragon © 3/2010

The night was humid and a lone yautja Dropship was preparing to eject the two hunters on the edge of an ooman city. The Dropship Wu' was from the hunting vessel Sha'Ruh from the Mothership Ba' Ruk'Ka. On special occasions such as this, selected youngbloods were given the honored opportunity to learn from the delnis nieryis of their clan. Only one newly blooded youngblood who showed great promise to be an asset as a clan leader was given the rare opportunity. If successful with nain-de, then the youngblood would immediately move closer to honored blooded status gaining recognition for himself and his Clan. Some succeeded where others failed. On this hunt the youngbloods were not heavily equipped. Hunting light was the difference from going on chiva; and the fact that they had to stay on the planet far longer than a normal hunt without the aid of full awu'asa or clan. All the youngblood had to depend on was his knowledge and his skills along with his delnis nieryis to guide him.

The hunting party had come to the planet during its hot season. The hot season was the best season for hunting; oomans were very active during the hot season. Elevated activities by the oomans usually lead to increased aggression and irritability, which ultimately lead to fighting and killing on many levels. The hot weather always provided for blood shedding; which provided a perfect opportunity for yautja to hunt, the Cerr na' ya'ta's. When on such a hunt little attention would be brought to the yautja. The hunt would blend in with the normal ooman activities. The hunt for the seven youngbloods aboard the Sha'Ruh would give them an opportunity to hunt and prove themselves as worthy. Each youngblood along with his delnis nieryis were dropped off at various places on the ooman world. They were given the bare necessities to survive with which included two choices of tech weapons that did not include a plasma caster, several months of extra breathing mixture, extra medical supplies several trophy bags along with the standard issue equipment for a light armor dress. The various groups were scattered across the ooman world in places thought to be prime hunting ground for the young hunters to train.

On board the Sha'Ruh was a newly blooded yautja male from the Aesa't Fhaeln Clan, one of the thirteen clans on board the Mothership Ba' Ruk'Ka. As with the other six youngbloods on the Sha'Ruh, he was seeking the honor and respect that was to be his. He was there to represent his family and his clan with the hunt. Rah' Dum' Twei was the favorite son of his sire, the clan leader. The leader thought if there was any among those he had spawned it was Rah' Dum' Twei, this particular youngblood was most promising of all. The clan leader for the Aesa't Fhaeln Clan was prudent, but shrewd. He wanted the best and demanded it from all his off-spring. Rah' Dum' Twei, showed the most promise and his sire thought him worth the investment. They youngblood had the qualities that were needed to lead and the clan leader, his sire, was hoping that on the hunt the leader spirit of the youngblood could be tapped into and start the process of shaping him into a kh'rom cra'ek.

Moving in low to the planet's surface, the Dropship Wu's, cloaked form slowed as it dipped low to the planet's surface and allowed the two yautjas to repel from the vessel's hold. With vigilance and keenness the hunters sprung forth from the vessel. The delnis nieryis landed gracefully on the ground in a roll that brought him to rest on one knee while the t'ki'bork finished with a sloppy imitation of the elder hunter. The youngblood tried to recover some of his composure and dignity as his delnis nieryis waited in silence.

It was to be three ooman months of hunting; for the younger his Cerr na' ya'ta's, Call to honor hunt. It would be his coming out nain-de, a hunt that would lead him to honor and also bring honor to his clan. For the elder, it would be a time of instruction. He had been bequeathed the task of training, shaping, molding and refining the youngblood, a son of elder his brother. It was his responsibility to take the rawness of the newly blooded yautja and shape him into hunter that will bring honor to the clan as well as himself. The elder yautja knew the youngblood's sire had grander plans that came in addition to the honor the youngblood would gain. The youngblood would also learn responsibility and purpose while he gained wisdom. Responsibility and wisdom were the basic qualities needed for developing a clan leader and he was sure his elder brother saw those budding qualities in this young yautja.

The heat hung heavy and the smell in the air told the hunters that they had come to the right place to hunt. Blood and killing clung to the humidity of the air making it a clear beacon for the sensitive olfactory glands of the yautja. The larger, elder yautja disconnected his breathing hoses and removed his mask of his helm to test the air. His long flat forked tongue quickly slithered out his mouth and tasted the humid air. The large yautja rumbled to himself, he was very pleased. The spot he had selected was prime. At the last moment, he had remembered the name of the place they were at. It was a place one of his hunt brothers had spoken of visiting years earlier. The yautja had mentioned the place on the backwater planet as being challenging and worthwhile. Now, he was glad he had trusted the opinion and recommendation of the other hunter. He could sense that there would be much excitement for both the youngblood and himself.

"The hunt will yield many trophies, Rah' Dum' Twei," the elder yautja clicked as he surveyed the area.

Nodding in agreement, the youngblood looked towards the dim lights that outlined the ooman city. He was pleased that his nei'shi'wa, his uncle, had picked this place to hunt, even with his helm on, he could smell the blood. A low growl resonated in his chest and he waited for his elder to commence the hunt.

Sensing the eagerness of his toudi'hswei, nephew, and the older yautja knew the youngblood had to be in control of his emotions and behavior if he was to do well. The eagerness extruded uninhibited from the younger yautja and it didn't help that the youngblood was in the beginning of his hormonal stage. This was the reason his mei'hswei, his brother, wanted him to take his son and guide him to be grounded and focused with the hunt. So easy could the youngblood become distracted and lose focus with his purpose with the Cerr na' ya'ta's; there was so much to do and the possibilities were endless.

"Ci'asn su nuhrs i'ars rsui'asil su i'ars /Calm the mind and steady the hand", the older yautja said to his younger counterpart. "We will be on this ooman planet for kluoo da'tnyl and this is just the first guan you taste the hunt," he clicked looking intently at his t'ki'bork, student. He could see the younger yautja tensing at his words. "…there is no need to fill your thirst in one night. Time will yield many worthy skulls for your trophy case." He saw the younger hunter relax a little and he let out a deep approving growl from his chest. Turning his attention back to their hunting ground, the elder yautja replaced his mask and reattached the breathing hoses.

Slowly they begin their trek to their hunting ground.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Once they reached the fringes of the city they cloaked. They would scout and stalk before they hunted. Even though the situation felt right, they had to know what the terrain was like and what the quality of the prey would be. The hunt was only for the most worthy, most dangerous prey and the delnis nieryis would make sure that his t'ki'bork, got only the most worthy.

With this hunt, the youngblood would be training to perfect the skills he had developed for chiva and also learn new ones that would hone his hunting skills while shaping him into the yautja that his sire wants him to be, a clan leader. This hunt would build his endurance and knowledge as it gave him challenge that would bring him honor. Although the pyode amedha were weak by yautja standards, they were kwei and with their intelligence came the challenge. The smaller creatures were very resourceful and in some cases were clever enough to maim or kill yautja.

The scent of the youngblood's anticipation began to resurface. Letting out a low warning growl to the smaller yautja, the larger hunter cocked his head to the side to consider his charge. He understood the young males craving, he had been youngblood once and knew the lure of the hunt could engorge one's huntlust to the point of not having control. The elder hunter knew that having restraint would be the most difficult of all skills for the youngblood to master, but he was on the hunt to also learn discipline and discipline he would learn. The smell of the hunt was thick and the call of guan spoke volumes for the hunt. The location was perfect and the ambiance was choice. It felt the right place and time to hunt and kill, but the elder knew better. "Psisursu i'ars zi'asuhursu," the elder yautja growled low. Prudence and patience would be needed in order for the youngblood to be successful. If there was no discipline, then there would be no honor and there were only the honored among the Aesa't Fhaeln Clan, Iron Fist Clan.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Rah' Dum' Twei followed his nei'shi'wa towards the ooman city. Pride swelled in him, he was being trained by the best in his clan, his uncle. The elder yautja was one hundred fifty ooman years younger than his sire, but he was better skilled than his sire. His sire's brother was delnis nieryis, a master teacher, in all forms of yautja and alien combat and weaponry. The elder yautja hunted on his own and brought much honor to himself and the clan. His fame precedes him, but he holds modesty and wisdom close. His delnis nieryis is sought after by many for instruction and siring pups. Being selective, he approached both with caution wanting to reap the best for his efforts. The Council of Elders even knew his worth and honored him, giving him their ear and respecting his words. Rah' Dum' Twei knew that his sire wanted the best for him and that is why his nei'shi'wa was leading him now. I will bring honor to you sire, the youngblood thought as he ran in the night.

The smell of thwei was thick in the air and it pulled at him. The scent tantalized his hi'ans-ftiats. His craving to hunt pyode amedha was so strong, it made him lose focus, weakened him. He knew he had to be strong and stay focused if he was to survive the three-month hunt. At any point he could become careless and that one moment of carelessness could cost him his life and his honor. Releasing a low growl, he reprimanded himself and vowed to remain diligent and learn from his uncle. He would be hunting the most worthy prey from this backwater planet and his nei'shi'wa would guide him to that knowledge.

Finally they arrived at the edge of the ooman city. It was alive. Screeching high-pitched sounds raced through the night going and coming while oomans shouted, screamed and wailed. Weapons were being fired along with loud ostentatious ooman sounds reefed to as music polluted the night air. It confused sounds of the night loomed large as they drifted from the ooman city. People having fun, people in pain, music to soothe the soul and sounds to set one's spirit free. It was all there in the alien city; all of it was waiting for the unseen hunter. The sound of the night spoke volumes and the youngblood listened. The possibilities were endless and his hi'ans-ftiats pulled at him again. He said nothing but his nei'shi'wa had noticed, he smelled his scent. "Psisursu i'ars zi'asuhursu," he heard his delnis nieryis, growled low, but he would not look at the taller yautja. He knew needed prudence and patience, but didn't want to be reminded of the truth. He didn't want to be reminded that he had been freshly blooded and still had much to learn. He knew, but didn't want to be reminded.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Ahead and to their right the elder hunter heard commotion and gunfire from ooman weapons. This will be a good place to start, older yautja thought. If the youngblood was to learn how to perfect his hunt and bring honor to himself and to the clan he first had to know how to stalk his prey with the grace and precision of a phantom. He had to see and not be seen, hear and not be heard while he stalked his intended kill. Turning towards the ruckus sounds, the elder hunter broke into a trot and the youngblood followed. After several minutes, they reached the beginning or what looked like several rows of large abandoned buildings. Leaping in mid-stride the large hunter landed on the side of the brick building and began to scale it as his claws on both his hands and feet dug wickedly into the brick wall securing him to the building's side. The youngblood, without hesitation followed suit and began scaling the building beside his teacher.

Once on the roof of the building both hunters watched and listened. To their left they heard shooting. A strong smell of ooman blood breezed in their direction and without thinking Rah' Dum' Twei began running in the direction of the blood. The elder yautja growled at the youngblood's impetuousness and began to follow leaping from building to building. When he finally reached the youngblood, he was crouching behind a small structure that hid his cloaked form quite well. He could see that the young hunter was staring intently at a building that was directly across from the building that they were on.

"Dui uhnzusiair zuhss le'hasuan zi'asuhursu," the older hunter growled low as he moved to stand directly over the crouching yautja's form. Indeed, the impetuous would learn patience, and the elder hunter could see that his nephew would learn patience the hard way. He saw the cloaked form of the shorter hunter flinch slightly. The youngblood had heard and had gotten the message. I'll deal with you later, the elder hunter thought and he turned his attention also to the building across from the one they were on.

The sudden sound of oomans yelling and weapons firing made both yautja growled with pleasure at the possibilities. The ooman activity in the building across from their building was very promising for a hunt that could prove to be most honorable. The oomans carried weapons and it was obvious they knew how to use them. For a moment, the delnis nieryis, thought of how they could engage the oomans so the youngblood could kill them. "I will lure them to you, Rah'," the elder hunter said to the still crouching youngblood as he firmly gripped his shoulder.

Rah' Dum' Twei clicked in acknowledgement. Soon he would hunt and he would kill.

"I will bring them to this place and you will dance the dance of death with them," the larger yautja said, and then he moved away from his charge.

Gka uk thei-de, Rah' thought as he smiled behind his visor. He very much wanted to dance the dance of death with his prey.

With a running start the elder hunter leapt through the air and landed gracefully on one knee atop of the building in front of his nephew. Without looking back, he moved to gain access to the building below. He knew that his nephew watching, hopefully he was learning. Silently, the hunter moved in the hot and humid air; it was oppressive, but he preferred the heat to the cold. The heat would invigorate him and his nephew so they would fight hard and get many trophies. As he crept down the metal staircase, the hunter heard voices, male voices. Pausing, he switched his visor to the thermal spectrum; he wanted to count the number of oomans he would lure to his t'ki'bork.

Kl'ukoor, the hunter thought counting thirteen heat signatures among the oomans in the open room before him. There were other ooman bodies in the room, but they looked as if they had been killed earlier. With his thermal vision, he could see the cooling blue as the last remnants of left life the waning corpses. The deaths most likely occurred during shooting they had head as they approached the area. Clicking, he was pleased with the number thirteen, he wasn't sure, but he thought that his t'ki'bork could handle that many oomans. The youngblood had to make sure he moved fast enough so he wouldn't receive too much damage from any one source.

In silence, the hunter watched the oomans trying to make sense of what he was seeing and hearing. Switching his visor to natural vision, he could see the oomans were gathered around a platform of some kind with a wooden crate that held transparent pliable containers with a powdery white substance filling them. On the same platform there was a metal container with neat stacks of small uniformed parchments in it with two oomans standing behind the metal case lingering protectively near it. The oomans had the strong scent of mistrust and suspicion about them, which had them on the edge. Even though the oomans could not see it, both oomans had various weapons concealed about their person. These oomans were ready to kill if anyone or anything threatened the parchments in the metal case. Like the two oomans protecting the metal case. There were three oomans protecting the wooden crate that held transparent pliable containers with a powdery white substance. The three oomans also had a thick scent of mistrust and anticipation about them. The humidity and elevated body temperatures added to the group's agitation. The yautja could smell the irritation and agitation in their scents. They were ready to explode into fighting at any moment, which made them all the more ripe for the picking. There was nothing conducive about the group. They were like rabid va'mea ready to turn on themselves as the slight sign of danger. Neither group trusted the other, but they were forced to give what little trust they were currently relinquishing.

Lure them away, the yautja thought to himself. He needed to lure the oomans to the building where his t'ki'bork was waiting, but how. He had to get the oomans to the other building undamaged, so Rah' could kill them. He would have liked to take a skull or two, but this first night would be for his nephew to taste.

He watched the oomans trying to think of a way he could lure all them to the other building without damaging them. He would use himself as bait, but he would have to be quick and shrewd about it so he wouldn't sustain any damage to his person. Unexpectedly it came to him, he would take the things that they treasured the most and filch them away to the other building. He was sure they would pursue him to get back what was theirs back. The metal case and the wooden crate, he thought as he nodded and silently agreed with his idea. He would snatch them up and allow them to see him so they could follow.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Rah' Dum' Twei watched in silence as his delnis nieryis, sailed through the air and land silently on the roof on the building in front of him. In time he knew he would have as much grace and poise as his uncle. Oh to be like him, the youngblood thought as he let out a satisfying growl. He knew he could learn much hunting with the delnis nieryis. And he decided he would allow himself to learn from the older yautja, but first he had to put his pride and attitude to the side so learning could take place. Restraining himself would be hard, but the young hunter would definitely give it a try.

Once he saw the other yautja's heat signature disappear into the bowels of the old building, the youngblood stood to his full height of 7' 11". Quietly he stretched allowing his cramped muscles to be properly stretched and stimulated. Soon he would dance the dance of death and slay his prey. He would taste of the hunt, but not over indulge in the process. There was much to learn and he would allow himself to shaped and molded.

Scanning the building he was on, the youngblood looked for a way to get to the inside of the building below. He had to think fast and plan what he would do. His delnis nieryis would lead the prey to him and he would have to make the kill. He didn't know how many oomans he would face, but he knew that his delnis nieryis would watch and observe; only intervening if his life was threatened. Near the rear of the building be saw a door. It looked small, but he thought it was enough to allow him passage to the room below. He didn't know how much time before the prey would be lured to him, but he wanted to know what the environment would be like where he would fight the oomans.

From the rafters of the building the young hunter watched and listened. He didn't have an opportunity to get to the room below before the commotion started without him. His claws dug deep into the wooden beam of the building his ceiling as he looked at the entrance to the room below. The youngblood heard a barrage of weapons fire along with screams and probably curses in the ooman tongue. He whipped his head in the direction of the entrance of the building. A loud crashing sound was heard as if something large was barreling into the door of the building. Next, he heard two distinct loud solid thuds of wood splintering against wood. "Delnis nieryis," the youngblood rumbled in his chest with pleasure. His uncle had made contact with the oomans and now he was leading them to him. A surge of adrenaline and anticipation rushed through the young hunter. His twin hearts began to beat fiercely in his broad chest. Thrill and anticipation threatened to consume him, but he would remain in control. He would hunt and kill. Soon… soon he would dance the dance of death.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Without wavering, the yautja crept closer to the oomans while cloaked. He didn't want to give himself away until the last possible moment so he remained invisible. As he closed in the distance between himself and the oomans he heard them as they began to raise their voices and began to shout at each other. They oomans spoke in three distinct languages. The first language, both groups spoke and it was how they bridged the gap of communication. The yautja was very familiar with this ooman language. He had learned it as a pup and understood it quite well, but was not completely fluent in it. The second language he understood somewhat, but only knew a few words and phrases from it. The third language he had never heard and had no idea what the smaller oomans with the slightly slanted eyes was saying. He relied on the first language to tell what the oomans were arguing about.

Apparently there was a disagreement between the two groups about price of the white powdery substance. The white powder was just as important as the paper parchments; the mon'eh, as the oomans called it. They would be the perfect lures to use against the oomans.

One of the slanted eyes oomans who looked to be the leader of his groups shouted something in his foreign tongue and the other group of oomans didn't seem to like what the ooman had said and they reached for their weapons. A taller ooman from the other group said something in his language and it seemed to soothe the oomans that understood him. By the way he commanded the others; the yautja could see he was the leader of his group. A second slanted eyed ooman said something in the language that he understood and it seemed to calm the entire group.

The group turned their attention back to the wooden crate and metal case on the raised platform. The leader from the slanted-eyed group said something in his language to one of his kind that was standing behind the metal case and the ooman immediately closed the case. There was an uneasy stir from the other group but the leader of the second group gave a slightly nervous laugh and made s sweeping gesture with his hands and the leader of the slanted eyed group raised his hand and the current movement of all the slanted-eyed oomans ceased. The tall leader from the second group invited the leader of the slanted-eyed group to stab the bag of white substance, and he did.

Nodding in approval the slanted-eyed leader looked at the wooden crate that held the white substance as if to visually weigh its value.

It's now or never, the yautja thought. He had seen enough interaction between the two groups to know that they did not like nor did they trust each other. If he was going to lure them, then he had to do it now because the gathering looked like it would be dispersing very soon.

Quickly he made his way towards the raised platform. Without missing he began to uncloak as he neared the platform and snatched up the metal case with the paper parchments and then he grabbed the wooden crate. He backed away from the group and gave them an opportunity to recover from their initial shock. Once the oomans' shock wore off, they started screaming, yelling and firing their weapons at him.

The chase is on, the yautja thought and he hoped that his nephew was ready to receive his prey. As he ran to the building across from his, the yautja felt the projectiles from the oomans' weapons bite into his leathery back.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Without warning, the two women heard the shouting and gunfire and it sounded like it was coming directly towards them. They had expected to meet the two rival gangs and they were going to kick their asses and take their money. They would take the dope they knew the men were selling and buying; and they would dispose of dope and keep the drug money. That was their simple plan, but things were not happening the way they were planned.

There were enough drugs on the streets of southern California, and tonight was just another Hit and Run. It was a quiet visit from the unseen street sweepers, a public service for the community, their community and southern California. They keep their neighborhood streets clean and safe from crime and drugs. The crime and violence that threatened to tear apart what the Center has been working for over the last seven plus years. The women knew the Colombians and the Koreans wouldn't be happy by the unexpected visit, but their happiness wasn't of any concern to the women. The message had to be sent that there'd be no dope deals done in Lessie territory and they would not disrespect the Claxton Community.

In silence both women quickly jumped off their black nasty fast motorcycles as they parked them near the rear just inside the abandon building. The 2017 Suzuki Hayabusa which was the motorcycle of the smaller female and the Kawasaki ZX-21 was the motorcycle of the larger female were imports from Japan and customized to fit both women. They were ready for the evening's festivities. Both had their weapons of choice and were expert at using them.

The larger of the two women carried two modified SAW, squad automatic weapon, the M249 Light Machine Gun, automatic weapons with a very generous cache of ammunition strapped to her back that gave her easy access to her arsenal supply. She had an assortment of knives and handguns distributed about her person for easy access when she needed them. Tonight was a party and she was ready to boogie. She stood about 6'5" tall dressed in black leather from head to toe. The black that she wore was a perfect blend of deception camouflaging her from any searching eyes. She wore black leather gloves that were studded at the knuckles with wicked spikes that were able to protract up to two inches in length just by the flexing the hands into fists. She wore a flexible lightweight bulletproof vest that flattened her ample breasts giving her the shape and appearance of a man. Her wavy black hair was short and cut in a masculine style; this accented her masculine appearance. She stood tall and strong; tonight she was ready to do some damage; she loved fighting, but she loved killing even more.

Also in black leather from head to toe, the smaller of the two stood just under five feet with a height of 4'11". She, like the taller female, melted in the night as the darkness swallowed her up. She was the older and more experienced of the two, with gung fu at her core. She was graceful and flowing where as the younger was raw and brute. She held a mystical aurora about her. She fought martially using her entire body as a weapon. Her hands and feet were registered locally with law enforcement. When she killed with her hands and feet it was difficult to know they were actually the weapon used against her victim, so little suspicion was drawn to her. She used more traditional weapons to fight with preferring a blade to a bullet, but she did protect herself from the bullets of others. She wore a bullet-proof body suit. It was lightweight and fit perfectly under the black leather she wore. It was an invention of her own that had taken several years to perfect and she still didn't feel that it was complete. Strapped to her person in concealed area she had a myriad of knives, a rope, flying locust stones, throwing stars, and bullwhip. For her short to mid range weapon, she used two small handheld crossbows that shot eight five-inch quarrels at one time. The crossbows were very compliment to her unnatural speed, in that each and reloaded automatically within fifteen seconds once she returned them to their holsters. They were comparable to semi-automatic weapons. The female appreciated the crossbows that she used expertly, but they were not her favorite. The weapon of choice for the shorter female was her flexible pole, three-segment-nunchakus, three section staff, or San Jie Gun as it is called in Asia. This weapon flowed with her as an extension of her own body.

The larger of the two females turned to the smaller female for instruction. In silence, the smaller female gave hand-signals telling her partner to take up her lead position to the left of the smaller female. Stealthy and quickly like the night, the larger female moved positions herself to the left of the large double doors of the building and about a third of the distance from the doors opening. To the right of the oversized doors the smaller female mirrored the larger female's position at the doors as both waited with their short-range weapons drawn.

It happened.

A sudden loud burst of sound came from the oversized wooden double doors. Both females stared in anticipation as the huge wooden doors began to scream and splinter from the pressure and force of an unseen presence. Easily the old weathered wood gave way to the invisible presence. Both females were startled by what they were seeing, but they held their positions. They knew that a plethora of Colombians and Koreans would soon be flooding their area.

They watched as the invisible force carrying a wooden create with some sort of white mist streaming from behind it on one side and a square metal attaché case on the other side ran towards them. There were probably spirits roaming the earth, but the females didn't believe in ghosts, so this must have been something else. As the unseen presence rushed towards them, they felt a strong humid breeze rushed pass them. Instinctively their heads turned as the presence darted pass them; for a moment, the women looked at each other befuddled, but quickly snapped out of their brief stupor when they heard loud angry male voices cursing and shouting in Spanish and Korean.

It's time to party, thought the taller female and she braced both the machine guns in the crooks of her large arms and gently caressed both triggers. Zuleyma "Zulie" Ramirez was in the house and was ready to get the party started.

The smaller woman watched intently as the males began to flood into the open space. It was obvious that they had not seen them as of yet. This made their element of surprise much sweeter. Quickly raising and lowering a hand that held one of the small crossbows was the signal the taller female was looking for. Immediately the larger woman unleashed a myriad of automatic gunfire on the unsuspecting men. Sparks flashed from the discharged weapons slicing through the darkness in the room like twinkling and shooting stars in the night sky. Men screamed out in tortuous pain and the wicked rounds from the automatic machine guns tore through their bodies ravening them in the process. None would be left alive.

The smaller female smiled, pleased with what the taller female was doing. She focused intently on those who would escape. As expected, the smaller female saw three males trying to escape. On instinct she aimed her crossbows at the fleeing males and released a barrage of crossbow bolts at the would-be escapees. In a fanning sweeping motion she released all sixteen five-inch bolts. She heard her victims scream out in pain. An impious smile emerged on her face. As she has done hundreds of times before, she holstered the crossbows on her thighs allowing them to automatically reload. Reaching at her breasts, she palmed a pair of 5 Blade Dragon's Fury Star, one from under each breast, and threw them at the still moving men who were trying to escape. She repeated throwing stars until the men stopped moving. When the crossbows were reloaded, she retrieved them looking for her next group of would-be escapees.

The heat that was generated from the added bodies along with the continuous weapon firing was enormous. It made the clamminess grip the females tighter causing them to perspire profusely as they did their killing. Sweat oozed from their pores and drenched the leather and the clothing they wore underneath. About twenty minutes passed and the sound of weapons being fired died down. The women were still standing, but none of the Colombians or Koreans moved. The women had sustained injuries, but the fact that they were properly protected by the bulletproof vest and bulletproof bodysuit kept their injuries to a minimum.

As she stood surveying her handiwork, the taller woman breathed heavy as her chest rose and fell in exhilaration. Hot sweat poured from her body and the coco colored biceps glistened as the female flexed as she clutched the still warm machineguns in both hands. Standing tall and strong, she looked like a black female Rambo waiting for some more kick ass action. The killing was a sensual pleasure to her; it aroused her like having sex did. Always at the end of her killing spree she climaxed and released in a very commanding orgasm. Licking her lips she smiled knowing that her arousal had been satisfied once again. She loved killing men. It gave her so much power. She watched as her, jefe, leader, checked among the dead. Quickly she began to visually count the bodies they had downed. Thirteen, she thought. This pleased her to know she killed most of the dead, oh how she love killing men. The hot spinning barrels of the miniature machineguns hummed a chorus with the backgrounds sounds of the night. All was well and very note was in place, it was sweet music too her ears; hearing mean screaming pain and agony as bullets ripped through their bodies. She had no mercy or sympathy for the men, so long as they sang her song of death. They were better off dead for all the killing they did to the innocent with their drugs and their brand of violence. Yes, she loved it when they screamed as they died.

The large female's chest heaved as she labored with her breath. It was hard work holding, controlling and firing both machineguns as the same time, but she did. Most men couldn't handle one weapon like she did, let alone two machineguns at once. Fuck yeah, she thought; she was still on her high from killing with such gusto. Slowly her breathing slowed as her eyes quickly scanned the area looking for more gang members. This was cleaning time and she was a badass maid that was proficient at her job. Realizing that the threat was completely subdued, she began to lower her weapons and get her breathing under control. Without warning something heavy dropped down in front of her and she watched the dust on the floor of the abandoned warehouse rise about eight inches from the ground. Slowly something or someone began to materialize before her. She first saw the feet, then calves, next the thighs; her eyes continued to travel upward until she was looking up in a metal covered face of what she thought was a man that stood nearly eight feet tall. Fuck! She thought, and then she heard the man, no creature, roar like a big cat. Along with hearing the loud roar, she felt a heavy fist smash against her jaw. Immediately both her weapons flew from her hands and she went sliding across the warehouse's rough floor. Before she could get up, the big creature was standing over her.

The smaller woman moved to the opening of the warehouse to inspect the dead and retrieve her used stars and crossbow bolts. She had to be quick about cleaning up any evidence of their involvement with the Hit and Run. She knew the Lessies were main suspects these days when it came to gang violence and gang murder, but she had been careful enough not to be sloppy with what they did. She wasn't going to give the police or any other rival gangs anything that would connect the Lessies with any of the gang killings in the area. Counting in her head the number of stars she threw and crossbow bolts she shot, she began a mental tally of the items she retrieved from the dead. Pleased, she had collected all he stars and only two quarrels were still unaccounted for. I'll find them soon, the woman thought, and then she froze. She heard a familiar, but very out of place sound; a roar of a big cat. The out-of-place sound resonated from behind her. Slowly she turned to see a huge golden male like creature towering over the other female. The thing was so tall it blocked out the other woman's view. Golden shit, the smaller woman thought to herself. Without warning, the hulking man-creature drew back its fist and slammed the taller woman hard in the face. The smaller woman saw the guns the taller woman was holding fly from her hands going in two different directions as the tall woman went skidding towards the back of the warehouse. Immediately the smaller woman reached to her thighs and pulled out both her crossbows. Before she could pull the trigger, the creature had leapt towards the downed woman. Once the beast had gained its footing, she let out one quarry of eight five-inch bolts; the beast screamed out in pain and then she released a second volley of bolts.

I've got to slow that thing down, the smaller female thought. If I kill it, then Zulie will not be happy. She knew the larger woman loved a good fight and she knew the huge creature would give it to her. She would just have the other woman's back and make sure the thing didn't kill her in the process.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

From the back of the warehouse in the dark he watched in disgust and anger. Rah' Dum' Twei could not believe what his eyes were seeing. The filthy ooman had stolen his prey. Just the thought of what was happening turned both his stomachs. He wanted very much to kill the oomans who were stealing what was his, but Yautja Code forbade such a thing. There could be no joining the hunt of another unless you were invited. Fat chance the oomans who ask him to join in the killing, but it didn't matter, he wanted them dead, and it would come soon enough.

When the oomans had commenced to firing upon his intended prey, the hunt ceased to belong to Rah' Dum' Twei. They had made the first move which marked the prey and the hunt as their own and not his. All he could do was stand on the sidelines and watch, something hated very much. There was no honor in being a spectator.

But they are not even yautja, his mind screamed as he watched prey being felled by the taller ooman. At that instant he had made the ooman his enemy and he was determined to make the male pay for his thievery. No one, especially a pathetic ooman would steal his prey and live to tell about it. He began to think of how he would kill both oomans starting with the larger of the two.

Frustrated, the youngblood watched. It was the only thing he could do. He knew his delnis nieryis was somewhere watching the same atrocity as he was. This shamed him; his uncle had cleanly delivered him his prey but he could not kill it. His shame was mounting with each passing moment. It was going to be difficult, but he would regain the dignity that the oomans were stripping from him. The ooman is not even going jehdin/jehdin with the prey; he thought as his distain threatened to make him roar. How could you just kill without even making physical contact, he thought wanting to hit something, but knew he couldn't he had to wait and be proper about the challenge he was going to give the oomans.

Time passed, but Rah' Dum' Twei thought that it was too quick to be considered a proper hunt. There were dead bodies, but not the kind of gore and carnage that could really bring a hunter honor; the oomans were too neat. And although he knew the group of prey had fired on the poaching oomans, they seemed not to have sustained any serious injuries. The poachers were somehow able to compensate for their small number. They were either very skilled at what they did or they had been hunting the oomans prior to him and his delnis nieryis happening upon them.

No, can't be, he thought, and he shook the idea from his head. Time to kick some thieving ooman ass, he thought as he jumped down from his perch above the larger ooman.

Cloaked, he quietly landed directly in front of the unsuspecting ooman. The only thing to be seen was the dust on the floor of the abandoned building rising from the ground where he landed. Slowly, he began to materialize before the ooman. It was a dishonorable thing to fight an opponent while cloaked and he wanted very much to have the ooman see who was beating him into the ground.

The eyes of the ooman followed his form as it uncloaked starting with looking at his feet and slowly the eyes roved up-ward as they ended with the ooman staring up into the mask of his helm. There was utter shock on the ooman's face. The creature was tall for ooman. This would make his battle with the pyode amedha that much more challenging. The male was nearer to his height, now Rah' had to see if the pathetic creature had any strength about him.

Drawing back his fist to slam it hard into the ooman's face, Rah' Dum' Twei let out a resounding roar to accentuate the way he was feeling, heated. When his fist contacted the soft meat's face he felt bone shift under the blows pressure. Both weapons the ooman held were knocked out from the clutching hands when his fist made contact with the face. The ooman was knocked to the ground and the force of the blow sent the ooman skidding several yards towards the rear of the building. A threatening growl resonated in Rah' Dum' Twei s chest and he wasn't pleased with how quickly he had knocked the ooman down, he wanted a real challenge.

Taking one long stride, he jumped landing in directly in front of the downed ooman. The yautja looked down at the ooman before him. He could smell anger on the ooman and something else. Something strange and out of place. A roar of pain escaped from Rah' Dum' Twei as he felt several pointed bolts of sharp metal bit nefariously into his thick hide. As he began turning in the direction from where the assault came from, another wave of sharp metal dug into his back and side. Once he was facing his attacker, something small stabbed him in the chest, and then another and then another. It was the smaller ooman and he was throwing something cutting edge sharp at him. Touching his chest, he pulled the small disc-shaped thing out and then his green florescent blood began to flow down his chest. Roaring in irritation, the young hunter' reached to his utility belt to retrieve his shuriken. "This will stop you," the yautja growled in language and he flicked his wrist to expose six ghastly looking curved blades. As hard as he could, he threw the shuriken at the smaller ooman knowing that the weapon would do its job by decapitating the pyode amedha and returning to him.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Crimson shit!, the smaller female thought as she saw the dangerous saw like disc flying towards her head. The golden colored man-creature threw something dangerous at her. It looked like a strange type of throwing star. It was larger than any star she had ever seen or used. It was indeed a star, and like other stars she could stop it in mid-air. Deftly, she grounded herself in her gung fu and positioned herself with Crane meets Star; this was the only gung fu fighting sequence that could slow down the oversized throwing star. Taking her breath, she moved as she made contact with alien weapon. It came at her fast and hard but she was able to subdue it. Although, not too graceful, but she was able to change the trajectory of the moving blades as she spun it around her receiving hand in a clockwise fashion and then she began to spin her body in a counter-clockwise direction. Slowly the weapon lost it momentum and the level of danger was diminished. Once the female felt the speed and momentum of the weapon was safe, she caught the weapon between the palms of her hands. The last efforts to subdue the strange weapon didn't leave her injury free; she received a deep gnash in the palm of her right hand before she was able to bring the weapon to a complete stop.

She was grateful for her metal mesh woven leather gloves because they had taken the brunt of the damage. Had she attempted to stop the moving alien star with her bare hands, the blades would have sliced her hand or both hands clean in two. Examining her new prize, the smaller female turned the dangerous metal over in her gloved hand as her blood dripped from two of the six blades and onto the floor. More blood dripped from her mangled leather glove, but she didn't seem to notice.

Very interesting, she thought to herself, I will enjoy taking you apart. I need to know just how you work and how you are made. It was like only she and the alien weapon she held in her hand existed. She admired the metal in her hand while she pondered its weight and structure.

Near the rear of the warehouse, something was happening between the alien and Zulie. Have to close this, the smaller female thought as she her small fingers roved over the strange weapon looking for a way to collapse the curved blades. It took her all of fifteen seconds to close the weapon then she attached it to a clamp at her waist. The thing felt odd at her hip, but she'd adjust to it; her night was far from over and there was much to be done.

She heard a roar of excruciating pain and looked up to see Zulie standing directly behind the golden colored man-creature. It looked like she was embracing the creature lovingly at the waist, but she knew better. The creature twisted and in some odd way dislodged itself from her grip. Now the creature was facing Zulie. The tall woman didn't give the thing a chance to recover before she punched the it hard in its chest with both her fists. Again, the man-creature roared in ear splitting pain as Zulie imbedded the knuckled two-inch metal spikes in the creature's flesh. Eight symmetrical puncture wounds were made and florescent green blood flowed from the eight openings.

This is getting ugly, the smaller woman thought knowing she would have to fight. Before she could fight, she has to bandage her wounded hand. Quickly taking a roll of thick gauze from her emergency med kit, she first paced her bloody glove with some gauze then she hastily wrapped her bleeding hand in gauze without removing the leather glove. She knew she was losing blood and she didn't have the luxury of properly attending to her wound, but she did the best she could hoping that she could slow her heart rate and pulse so she would not pass out. After a few minutes she was able to tie it up her hand and slow the blood loss, that would have to do for now.

Time to put some more quarrels into you, the small female thought as she reached for one of her handheld crossbows. Before she could take aim at the man-creature that was fighting with Zulie, something hard struck across the chest making her fall backwards. On instinct, the female made her body go into a backwards roll and landed on her feet in a defensive crouch; Monkey meets Hyena. The position poised her for whatever was attacking her and gave her the freedom and flexibility to move in any direction, especially backwards.

Incredible shit, the small female cursed in her mind. Two of them. She finished the thought as she looked at the huge man-creature towering in front of her. The thing was tall, even taller the one that was fighting with Zulie. It had at least a half-foot or more height than the one that was battling with the taller woman. The thing was red, yellow and orange. It reminded her more of the sun than it did the autumn season. There was something fiery about the creature that spoke to her inner core but she disregarded that notion. Its underbelly was a light shade of gold with orange and red highlights streaked across it. Cautiously she watched the enormous sunburst colored man-creature as it regarded her. It tilted its massive head to the side as it continued to look down at her, then it moved into a fighting stance something resembling Vulture battles Pigeon, but she wasn't a pigeon. She wasn't sure if the thing knew what the gung fu stance was, but she was sure it had the ability to fight. Slowly the man-creature began to move in a circling motion around her and she moved with the big creature, shifting her stance back and forth between Stalking Sand Crab and Dancing Praying Mantis while keeping the creature directly in front of her.

She looked at the man-creature's giant clawed hands and made a point of not letting the thing touch her. If it grabbed her, then it would surely crush her to death. Today was not the day she would be dying at the hands of a freak of nature. Watch and prepare, she thought to herself keeping all her options open. She was concerned about what was happening with Zulie, but at the moment her problem was literally larger than the other woman's.

As she continued her defensive maneuvering, she slowly and fluidly reached to the black leather satchel strapped across her back to retrieve her San Jie Gun. Soon the posturing would stop and the fight would begin. It didn't look like large man-creature was going to make the first move so the female went in the offense; she had to test its speed and agility because there was no question as to the strength.

Without warning she struck with Frog kisses Pond and as she leapt at the gargantuan she struck it hard and quick on both its kneecaps with her San Jie Gun and then sprung backwards. The big creature yowled surprised. It wasn't excepting the attack and it stumbled before it regained its balance. It growled deep and threatening at the small female as she moved to a safe distance in front of the creature. The woman continued her defensive maneuvering, watching for any sudden move from the towering man-creature.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

At the rear of the abandoned building the elder yautja stopped and dropped the burdens he was carrying. He didn't have to turn around to know that the oomans had followed him into the building; their screaming and yelling gave them away immediately. He had done his part and how his t'ki'bork had to do his part and make his kills. Now for you to hunt, youngblood, the elder thought as he faded into the shadows.

Mi, he thought as his olfactory glands got a whiff of petroleum. It wasn't the same odor of fuel that he smelled on yautja vessels or around yautja machinery, but it was fuel nevertheless. Sniffing the air and following the fuel scent, the yautja walked deeper towards the rear of the building. He switched his visor to the thermal mode and he scanned the area. Much to his surprise he saw two distinct glowing heat signatures that were not organic. He walked over to smaller of the two machines that looked like some sort of land transport. He touched the glowing red orange of the metal and hissed ad it burned his finger pads. Angry with the burn to his flesh the yautja took a sharp clawed hand and sliced through leather padding on the transport, as he let out a low threatening growl.

He moved to inspect the second, larger transport and heard a onslaught of alien weapon fire. It was different from the weapon fire of his t'ki'bork's prey so he looked up in the director from which the sound came. Inside the building and about mid-way the length of the building in the middle of the open area stood a rather tall and muscularly built ooman. The creature was firing upon his t'ki'bork's prey.

Shocked, the yautja watched in bewilderment, wondering where his toudi'hswei was. This was not supposed to be happening, couldn't be happening, but it was. An ooman had stolen his toudi'hswei's prey and now he was downing them with his weapon fire. The sound of the ooman's weapon was not as loud as the weapon fire of the prey and it repeated itself very quickly becoming a stream of punctuated sound that seemed to have no end. The prey screamed and blindly fired their weapons at the interloper, but the rather tall ooman continued to rapidly fire his weapons.

Although he was not happy with the current turn of events, the elder yautja decided to wait and see what the turn of events would be. His toudi'hswei had missed his first opportunity to hunt and he wondered how the youngblood would redeem himself in his eyes. He knew the Code would not allow his nephew to hunt with the ooman uninvited and even though his younger companion maybe harboring some form of resentment against the ooman, he would not strike out at the ooman while he was in a killing mode. It would damage his honor to the extent off his nephew becoming badblood, and there was no living ve'nde-thwei in the Aesa't Fhaeln Clan.

A slight movement to the tall ooman's right caught his attention and the elder yautja saw a much small, deformed looking ooman patiently waiting, allowing the taller ooman to bask in the glory of killing. The deformity of the ooman seemed to be some type of large bulbous growth at the base of the creature's skull and near its spine and stopping about a good nok down its back. Disgusting, thought the yautja. How can these creatures allow their cripple to participate in a hunt? The yautja saw the deformed ooman presence there as an insult and mockery to the hunt, a blemish that should be erased. Although it made him sick enough to want to kill the pathetic deformed creature, he would step back and allow his nephew to redeem himself, by killing the monstrosity. He didn't think the youngblood would take the deformed ooman's skull, but if he wanted to, he would not stop him.

"The thing has no right to be here," the elder yautja growled low in yautja to himself as he repressed the desire to flex his wrist and unsheathe his ki'cti-pa. One swift fluid move would end the male's life and solve a problem, or two. He was glad that there was no one to observe his t'ki'bork's hunt but himself, he would have to share the shame of having a perfectly good hunt disgraced by not one, but two pathetic oomans and the clincher would be that the smaller of the two was deformed. What can the tiny deformed thing do? The elder yautja thought to himself as the small male moved surreptitiously to the taller male's right flank.

No sooner had the thought entered his mind, the elder yautja witnessed the smaller male aim something that remotely looked like a miniature spear gun , a type of crossbows, at a group of three fleeing males from the prey he had lured for his t'ki'bork. He watched as the deformed ooman release a barrage of spiked metal bolts at the would-be escapees. They were released in a fan sweeping pattern. The ooman released at least kluoo, thirteen, or more small metal bolts at the unsuspecting males. The lethal tiny projectiles looked like they could do a lot of damage if they hit the right places. He didn't think the prey had a chance to avoid the assault.

So the deformed ooman has some proficiency, the elder yautja thought to himself as he watched the small creature in action. He is smart and he thinks about his kill; he's calculated and not impulsive. He watched as the ooman quickly emptied both loaded small handheld weapons into his victims and then quickly holstered the things at his thighs. The yautja thought the ooman had finished his fight, but he saw the small male take some small flat discs from the chest area of his ooman armor and throw them rapidly at the oomans that were still moving. He saw the ooman repeat the throwing of the small flat discs until the prey stopped moving. Reload, the elder thought as he saw the ooman retrieve the freshly loaded weapons from his thighs and began to look for the next group of fleeing prey.

Time passed and the sound of weapons being fired slowly died down. The hunter could see that the only standing oomans were the two that stole Rah' Dum' Twei's prey. They looked as if they were not injured and they were ready to go on another killing spree. The larger of the two oomans was breathing heavily and the elder hunter watched as his chest rose and fell as he worked at gaining his composure. The yautja could smell clarity and anticipation emanating from both oomans, but from the larger male, he smelled both aggression and feminine arousal. Strange, the hunter thought, as he looked in the direction of the larger male.

From the rafters above, the cloaked form of Rah' Dum' Twei dropped to the ground in front of the larger male. The larger yautja could smell belligerence pouring from his toudi'hswei. He didn't have to look at the younger yautja's heat signature to know that he was furious with the sudden turn of events and now he was going to challenge the ooman. He hoped that his nephew would not be so head-strong and to forget to uncloak before fighting the ooman. He did not want the youngblood to dishonor himself by something as simple as to uncloaking, before a fight.

As if reading his mind, the elder yautja's toudi'hswei uncloaked before the larger ooman; being about a nok in distance away from the ooman. The inevitable happened, the youngblood drew back his fist to slammed it hard into the ooman's face as he let out a resounding roar to accentuate the way he was feeling, ardent. The elder hunter heard bone shift under the blow's pressure when the youngblood's fist contacted the soft meat's face. The blow made both weapons that the ooman held fly from his clutching hands. Rah' Dum' Twei knocked the ooman to the ground; the force of the blow sent the ooman skidding several yards towards the rear of the building on the other side of where the elder yautja was standing. The larger hunter tilted his head to the side curiously as he regarded the ooman on the floor. That was some punch! The elder hunter thought as he waited to see what the ooman would do. If the male got up after being downed by his nephew, the elder would be forced to respect the soft meat for his fortitude.

Rah' Dum' Twei was not going to give the ooman a chance. Once the creature came to a halt after sliding across the floor, the youngblood took one long stride as he jumped landing in directly in front of the downed ooman. A threatening growl resonated in Rah' Dum' Twei's chest. The elder yautja could smell the youngblood's displeasure. He wasn't sure if it was because he had quickly knocked the ooman down and he wanted a real challenge or because the oomans had stolen his prey. Either way, he was going to take out his frustration on the ooman or most likely both of them.

The elder yautja saw his t'ki'bork look down at the ooman before him as the youngblood prepared to commence to pummeling the ooman into the ground. He looked down at the ooman and got a very confusing scent from the male. It was something strange and out of place mixed the obvious anger the ooman was feeling at the moment.

A roar of pain escaped from Rah' Dum' Twei and the elder yautja immediately looked towards his t'ki'bork. What in Paya's name is wrong with you, the yautja thought as he watched the youngblood arch his back as if in pain. The elder watched his nephew as he turned in the direction of where the surprise attack came from. Again Rah' Dum' Twei roared out in pain receiving another assault. The elder hunter looked in the direction his nephew was facing and he saw the small deformed ooman. What in Paya's… taller yautja began to think and he saw the small ooman put his handheld weapon on his thigh. He's reloading, the yautja thought and he saw the ooman reach to his chest like he had done earlier with the prey and he retrieved several small flat shuriken shaped discs. Quickly the ooman threw the small discs at Rah' Dum" Thwei. The hunter could see the small metal bolts and now the flat shaped discs protruding from the youngblood's hide.

Rah' Dum' Twei, now facing his attacker roared in irritation as he retrieved his shuriken from his utility belt. The elder hunter knew this was the end for the small ooman. His t'ki'bork was very skilled with the shuriken and his aim was perfect, which meant, the deformed ooman would soon be losing his head and Rah' Dum Twei would have it as his first trophy from this hunt.

"This will stop you," the elder yautja heard his student growl as he watched the youngblood flicked his wrist to expose six ghastly looking curved blades. The elder saw the arm muscles of the youngblood ripple as he drew back his throwing hand and he threw the shuriken at the smaller ooman as hard as he could. The youngblood was very sure of himself and his throw knowing that the weapon would do its job by decapitating the pyode amedha and returning to him.

The shuriken did not return to Rah' Dum' Twei.

Had he not seen it with his own eyes, he would have never believed it. The small deformed ooman had caught the shuriken that Rah' Dum' Twei had thrown at him. The large yautja watched as the deformed ooman prepared himself for something. The yautja saw the small male move fluidly as he made skillful contact with the deadly weapon in mid-air as it came fast and hard. He saw how the ooman was able to change the trajectory of the moving blades as he spun it around his receiving hand in a clockwise fashion and then he began to spin his body in a counter-clockwise direction, the movements weren't too graceful, but they were executed with expert proficiency. The last thing the yautja saw the ooman do with the shuriken was track the speed and momentum of the weapon and then catch the weapon between the palms of his hands, thus successfully stopping the weapon.

The seasoned hunter could see that the ooman had successfully stopped the shuriken, but at a cost; the blades of the weapon had sliced through the deformed ooman hand and now he was bleeding. Hastily, the ooman closed the shuriken, which was also a surprise to the yautja and then slipped the yautja weapon somewhere on his person. The elder knew that his nephew had every intention of the weapon taking the small ooman's head off and returning, but the elder could see that the shuriken was now lost to his nephew providing the ooman lived.

The elder heard a roar of excruciating pain and he looked towards his nephew and saw the taller ooman standing directly behind the youngblood. It looked like ooman was embracing the yautja lovingly at the waist, and the feminine scent that the ooman gave off further suggested that type of contact, but the elder didn't think the male ooman was sexually attracted to the youngblood, it was all wrong and the elder hurried to wipe the image away from his mind. Rah' Dum' Twei would never be caught doing such a dishonorable thing, with a male in any species least of all pyode amedha that was beyond sick, the ooman was sick for thinking about the yautja in that way.

With some difficulty, the youngblood dislodged himself from the ooman's grip and turned to face the ooman male. The ooman didn't give Rah' Dum' Twei an opportunity to get his balance before he punched the youngblood hard in his chest with both his fists. Again, the youngblood roared in pain and the elder saw the ooman imbed the two-inch metal spikes from the knuckles of the gloves that he wore, into the youngblood's flesh. Green florescent blood began to spill over the ooman's fists and down the yautja's chest.

That must really hurt, the elder though as the young yautja ended his roar of caustic pain. So long as the fight is fair it will continue, the elder thought watching the ooman and the yautja battle. The elder knew that the youngblood was regaining his honor and he would allow him to do so, maybe he would start the hunt with at least one trophy.

With the distraction and roaring from the youngblood, the elder yautja had not notice the smaller deformed ooman had moved closer to the battling pair. Now the small male had bandaged his wounded hand and was moving to make another assault on Rah' Dum' Twei. I don't think so, the elder thought as he took two giant strides and reached the deformed ooman and struck him down. It wasn't a blow that was challenging, but rather one of warning. The elder was surprised to see that the ooman did not just fall to the ground, but rather he made his body go into a backwards roll and landed on his feet in a strange defensive crouch. The way the ooman was standing made him look very humorous. He was squatting low to the ground with both feet spread wide but was still fixed with his center of gravity relaxed. He swung his small, short arms from side to side as he continued to stare up at the yautja.

The elder tilted his head to the side as he looked down at the small ooman. Well little ooman, if a challenge you want, then a challenge you will get, the large yautja thought as he moved into the fighting stance Ta'zis a'stis Syeva'z, Tower over Shadow. He just circled the ooman keeping the creature's entire body in the length of his shadow projected had it been daylight and his shadow was cast to either mid or full length. This offensive stance lead to a relaxed movement for the yautja and it kept the ooman, well within his reach if he decided to attack spontaneously. Instead of attack, the yautja waited to see what the tiny creature would do. The ooman drew no weapon and the yautja could not believe that the ooman wanted to go Jehdin/Jehdin with him. He continued Ta'zis a'stis Syeva'z and began to slowly circle the small ooman. The yautja watched the ooman as he began to move with him like he was stalking prey. The yautja wanted to laugh at the comical sight, but didn't. The ooman was just too small to seriously want to fight him. He still couldn't believe that tiny creature hadn't screamed, fainted or run away.

As they continued posturing against each other, the elder watched the ooman as he slowly and fluidly reached to the small bundled strapped across his back to retrieve something that looked like a three segmented pole that was tipped with some sort of metal. "What is this, a toy?" the elder growled. Will this pathetic creature challenge me with a stick, he continued to think. He knew the ooman could not understand him, but the small creature kept a wary eye on the yautja as it moved. It seemed to be waiting for an opportunity for the right moment to strike.

With no warning the ooman struck leaping at the huge yautja striking him hard and quick on both its kneecaps with the three-segmented pole and then spring backwards so fast, the elder wasn't sure it had actually happened. When he felt the stinging pain at both knees he looked down and saw how they were starting to turn a sickly color of orange as two distinct welts began to rise on them. "Pauk!" The yautja exclaimed in surprise and in pain. The hunter wasn't excepting the attack and he stumbled before he regained its balance. He growled deep and threatening at the small ooman as he watched the creature moved to a safe distance in front of him. "The little shit knows how to use his toy… That's no toy," the yautja said realizing the metal from the ooman's stick damaged both his kneecaps. He wasn't looking for it, but eh large yautja was going to clobber the small ooman and put the pathetic creature in its place.

The seasoned hunter lunged for the ooman, but it hopped just out of the hunter's reach and delivered a stinging blow to the large taloned hand that tried to grab it. The elder yelped out in pain and quickly retracted his hand, but not until another welt from the metal tipped stick struck him. Again he attacked swiftly trying to grab the small ooman, but the smaller creature just moved in a choreographed fashion with the yautja countering everything that he did, accenting each attempt by the yautja to grab it with a welt drawing blow from the stick.

After several minutes, the yautja was getting tired of the cat and mouse game. He could not smell fear on the small ooman, nor could he smell aggression or disdain. The only thing the yautja could determine was that the ooman saw trying to keep the hunter from grabbing or touching him. All the moves and counter moves had been purely defensive; all except the first strike and the small creature was probably testing its limits with him. Seeing what the yautja could or would do. The elder was amazed by the hand-to-hand combat of the ooman. He could see that the small male was fast and the blows that he was delivering stung but did not injure badly.

Coming to the conclusion that the ooman didn't want the fight, the elder backed off and waited to see what the male would do. The small creature backed off too and watched the yautja. The face of the ooman is always focused on the yautja. The elder relaxed to a non-threatening posture to see what the ooman will do, and immediately the ooman imitated the elder. The elder took a step back from the ooman and the male again imitated the yautja. This ooman is either clever or some sort of, a'ka-ad, the elder thought as he watched the small male.

The idea of the ooman being unintelligent and unskilled was quickly dispelled when the smaller creature deftly returned its three segmented pole back in to its holding place at its back and quickly moved into a non-aggressive stance. The elder watched in astonishment as the ooman dropped his head respectfully acknowledging that yautja. The elder wasn't sure what the ooman meant by this gesture, so he gave the ooman a respectful bow, slowly cocking his huge head to the side deliberately acknowledging that the creature had his respect as a warrior.

Once a truce was established, an urgent smell came to the ooman and the hunter saw how the smaller male was looking around the immediate area for something. The yautja spotted the tiny weapon that the ooman used on the prey and on Rah' Dum' Twei and thought the ooman was searching for the thing. He pointed a large taloned finger at the weapon and gave a low growl. Quickly the ooman looked in the direction the elder was pointing, then moved to retrieve the small weapon and nodded in gratitude towards the yautja. The ooman quickly rummaged the area making sure to keep the presence of the yautja in full view. The elder watched in silence as the ooman scurried about. Once it seemed the ooman had found what he was looking for, he abruptly halted his search and looked towards the still brawling titans.

The elder also looked at the battling pair.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Motherfuck! Zulie's mind screamed as the large fist slammed into the left side of her jaw. She was not prepared for the assault. She thought several of her teeth jarred loose and she prayed that none had been knocked out. She groaned as she felt her body skidding across the rough cement of the warehouse floor. She knew her leather vest was shredded by now; she'd have to get another one; it was better the vest was shredded and not her back. The vest was her favorite, she knew it was replaceable, but not the skin on her back.

She wanted to scream out in anger, to hell with the pain. The big bitch had landed a sucker punch on her. When she got off the ground it would be a different story. She was going to give the bitch a good southern ass-whipping it would never forget. She wanted to speak, but he voice was gone and so was the air from her lungs. She wheezed trying desperately to catch her breath that did not want to be caught.

For a moment she lay stunned on the ground unmoving. Fucking dickless bitch, Zulie thought when she saw the large man-creature jump in front of her. She couldn't do anything, she was at the thing's mercy and she was mad as hell. I can't catch a fuckin' break, Zulie thought. This big bitch is moving in for the kill, she continued to think as she looked up at the tall man-creature who was now standing directly over her. There was an angry sinister feel about the creature that made the female feel tense preparing herself for what was to come.

Suddenly without warning, the hulking creature roared out in pain and arched its back as if it was struck from behind. Zulie looked behind the creature and saw he jefe, her leader, with her small crossbows in both hands. Good shit! Zulie thought as she cut her eyes back to the man-creature that was standing in front of her, …Take that you fucking bitch, you don't mess with the Lessies… we kick ass day and night, trick. A triumphant smile crept over the downed woman's face. She would get her revenge. The humidity and the pain were trying to keep her on the ground, but the tall woman made an effort to stand.

Fuckin' yeah, scream… you dickless cunt, Zulie thought and she saw the smaller woman release a second volley of small crossbow bolts into the man-creature. The large creature screamed again and this gave Zulie the motivation and strength she needed to get off the ground. Your ass is mine, bitch, she thought as she moved to the standing position. The man-creature turned to face the smaller woman. The creature screamed out a third time and Zulie knew that the smaller woman had just released her throwing stars and was reloading her crossbows.

Licking her lips and swallowing the blood that had gathered inside her mouth, Zulie's adrenaline and eagerness began to rise. She thought about wiping the sweat from her forehead, but decided against it. She didn't have time to wipe off sweat when it was just going to be replaced by more sweat. Now, she was ready to fight and she was going to use her energy on fighting. She was excited with the possibilities of fighting the big man-creature. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, she thought as she gripped her dislocated jaw and popped it back into place. It hurt like hell, but she had to do it. It had been a very long time since someone dislocated her jaw and she had forgotten what it felt like. The big woman growled in pain, but it quickly passed. She was focused on the man-creature in front of her. She wanted to give it a taste of its own medicine but she was going to give it street style.

Caressing her throbbing lower jaw, she watched and examined the golden man-creature deciding how she would best take it down. The golden looking thing was rippled with muscles that would have put the top body-builders to shame quite easily. And it looked to be twice her size if not larger. It towered over her a good foot or more higher than she did. Got to kick its ass, she thought. She knew that it would not be easy, but she felt like she could do it or she was going to die trying to kill the thing.

Suddenly she saw the man-creature pull something from its side and throw it at her jefe, her leader. When the creature threw the thing at the smaller woman, Zulie balled both her hands into fists and she flexed her knuckles. From the knuckle ridges of her black leather gloves sprung on each hand a row of two-inch pointed sharp steel. Positioning herself directly behind the man-creature, she simultaneously slammed both her fists into the thing's sides and the man-creature screamed out in pain. I got me a fucking screamer, she thought as she smiled wickedly forcing the sharp steel deeper into the creature's flesh. I got you now bitch, the large female thought as she stared as the massive back. She smirked in approval as she saw several of the crossbow quarrels jutting from the strange looking golden skin that was blotched with what looked like nuggets of gold.

Clenching more force at the thing's waist, she felt the large creature turn under her pressure and break free of her grip, but she did not relent. Once the creature had turned to face her, she took the opportunity to slam both her eager bolt studded fists that were covered with some type of florescent green fluid into the massive chest of the man-creature. Yes, she thought. The creature screamed out again in pain and Zulie's arousal heightened. She could feel the wetness slowly begin to drip down her inner thighs. Her breathing increased as she began to feel a tingling sensation in her nipples and abdominal area. The sensation that rippled through her body, as the thing screamed was very erotic and she wanted more. The sound of the man-creature's screams turned her on and she wanted to hear it scream for a long time.

Scream Bitch, scream, she thought, but she wanted to say with her own voice. She knew she couldn't speak out while they were on a Hit and Run mission, it was only when they put on their helmets could her and her leader speak to each other. To speak while on such a mission would give something away about who they were. As of now, no one knew who the unlikely pair was, and they wanted to keep it that way. On the streets of Southern California they were known to many as the Unseen Street Sweepers. Just about all the gangs and the police suspected them, so they would be clean and careful about protecting their identity at whatever cost. She didn't want her enthusiasm to jeopardize their mission. The mission was most important regardless to whatever else they encounter, including the threat of losing their life.

Tonight is a good night to kick some ass, the large woman thought as she continued to force her weight behind her knuckles and make the sharp steel dig deeper in to the man-creature's chest. Ooooohhh, she thought as she continued to tingle all over as her body shuddered lightly. This is better than getting' dicked any day… I love kickin' ass, she continued to think. The foreplay she was having with the man-creature was working its way up to be something explosive, but she wasn't ready to explode she wanted to play a little longer.

In such close proximity of the man-creature, the woman could clearly smell the scent of the man-creature. It was nothing like she had ever smelled or experienced before. At first she tried to place the thing's body odor as being a stale pine odor, but once she thought about it, the smell didn't seem to be the same. It basically was a woody smell mingled with bay leaf. She could see the thing was hot and sweating as much as she was sweating. A crazy thought came to her head to lick the sweat from the creature's broad golden chest to explore the smell more but she wisely decided against it. She didn't know what the thing was and she didn't want to risk catching anything from it. Too much coke, she thought kicking the thought out of her head. Why would she want to lick the man-creature? Maybe I should go a little easier when I snort before a mission, came a second thought.

Zulie held the hard and applied pressure to her wrists, causing more damage. They were locked up like two titans in battle with the large female dominating the fight.

Stalemate.

There was an eerie silence between the large combatants. For a brief moment, the tall man-creature looked down at Zulie, not struggling as it regarded her curiously. She couldn't read the expression behind the bronze colored metal mask, but she sensed that there was something about her or what she was doing that confused the giant creature.

What seemed like a forever passed, then the room roared to life.

The tall man-creature let out a menacing growl and it threw back its large thick cranium and brought it crashing down on Zulie's smaller more delicate one. She was dazed, but not out. The force from the head butt sent the female sailing through the air and crashing towards the ground. Before the female's crumbled body could come to a halt, the huge creature was kicking her in her sides. It was brutal and relentless and Zulie knew if she didn't stop the onslaught of kicks all her ribs would be broken and maybe some of her internal organs would be damaged. As best as she could she protected her ribs and vital organs. From side to side she moved crunched up until she felt something solid and hard hit her back. It felt like a piece of wood, a small beam of some sort. Without thinking she grabbed the wood and swung with all her strength at the man-creature's legs. In her daze, her heard wood crash hard against metal, and then she heard the sweet sound she wanted to hear, flesh crashing against the ground. She had knocked the man creature off its feet.

How she wanted to stay on the ground and glory in her success, but she knew it would be short lived and if she wanted to stay ahead of the fight, she had to get off the ground before the man-creature did.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

He had made the challenge, had thrown the first punch and was letting the ooman know that a formal challenge had been made. All had been done according to The Code and he was sure that his delnis nieryis was watching and recording with his gkinmara. He had caught the unsuspecting ooman off guard, which lent itself to a fast and decisive victory for the youngblood. If he could finish quickly what he had started, then he could quickly claim the ooman's skull. With this one, he would also take the spine with the skull because the ooman had disrespected his hunt and stolen his prey.

"M-di H'chak/M-di H'dlak," he growl low as he slammed a large fist into the jaw of the ooman. The flesh of the ooman was soft, unnaturally soft for a male, but there were all kinds of oomans, this male could be deceptively soft and equally dangerous. The youngblood witnessed with his own eyes how the male had decimated his prey. He would take nothing about this ooman for granted. There were bound to be differences among the oomans, and he accepted that this could be a difference. Under his blow he felt the jawbone of the ooman shift. He hoped he hadn't damaged the skull too bad. He did want the skull to be intact, especially since it would be his first ooman skull from his Cerr na' ya'ta's hunt.

He watched excitedly as the ooman glided roughly across the stone floor. The victory for the youngblood was so sweet he could taste it. Not wanting to waste precious time, he took one long stride and landed directly in front of the downed ooman. He did want to give the soft meat an opportunity to recover. Rah' Dum' Twei glared down at the ooman facing him, he drank in the creature's scent, he wanted to remember the scent of his first ooman kill and imprint it on his memory so he could recall it clearly in the future. The tang of anger and something odd imbued the ooman. There was strangeness about the odor emitted from the ooman that was so out of place; the youngblood was embarrassed that such a thought would enter his mind at a time like this. Why would the male give off a scent of mating while in the midst of battle? He thought.

Several acute pains assaulted the back of the youngblood and being caught by surprise, he roared out in pain as his back arched involuntary. The sound had escaped from Rah' Dum' Twei before he even knew he had responded to the attack. Suddenly, felt several pointed bolts of metal bite nefariously into his thick hide.

"V'hak -de pauk!" the youngblood yowled as a second wave of metal bolts slammed into his body, his back and side stung like a nightmare. The metal dug into his skin like che'beiz, feasting on a rotting corpse with their tiny sharp razor like teeth. It hurt like hell and he knew it was going to hurt even more when he pulled them metal out of his flesh.

Who in the hell is attacking me, he thought turning in the direction from where the assault came from. Now that he was facing his attacker, something small sliced into his in chest, and then another and then another. He looked down and saw the smaller ooman throwing something jagged at him. Touching his chest, he pulled the small disc-shaped thing out and then he saw his green florescent blood flow down his chest. His eyes glared incredulously as he stared at his own blood. Looking at the smaller ooman he growled threateningly.

"That's it!" he roared in irritation, "… you're dead." Reaching into his utility belt to retrieve his shuriken, the youngblood pulled out his favorite weapon. He was expert with the flying blades; he could throw them in his sleep and catch the when he woke the next day. His shurikens were an extension of himself. "This will stop you," he growled in yautja as he flicked his wrist to expose six grisly looking bowed blades. As hard as he could, he threw the shuriken at the smaller ooman knowing that the weapon would do its job. When the blades hit, they would cut true; they had never failed him. Tonight I will have two skulls. I may not get the spine from the small one, but the skull will serve as a worthy trophy, he thought as he turned his attention back to the larger ooman.

Before he could turn to face the downed ooman something stabbed him on either side of his waist. "Motherfuck!" he screamed. Was there no end to this cowardly assault? They were coming at him from all directions.

Turning to face the large ooman who had attacked him from the back, Rah' Dum' Twei dislodged the spiked metal from his waist and now was facing the tall male. Before he could situate himself, the ooman slammed both his fists hard into his chest, the yautja could see that his blood was covering the ooman's gloved fists and now the male was smiling in what the youngblood thought was a lascivious way. The sheer shock of the blow caused the youngblood to scream involuntarily; that and the fact that the ooman male was generating bizarre and inappropriate musk that had absolutely nothing to do with the fight they were having; this further confused the yautja and threw him off balance. He fought to keep his body in subjection so it would not respond to the musk. The ooman was sick and disturbed; the youngblood needed to put an end to the creature's unhinged mockery. There was something so very wrong about the ooman male that alarmed the yautja, but he couldn't quite understand it.

Once he recovered from the initial shock of the new attack and his scream subsided, the yautja calmly looked down in the face of the tall ooman. The male was staring up at him with a peculiar look of sensual pleasure on his face, as the stench of mating seemed to ooze thick from the creature. As Rah' Dum' Twei looked down at the male there was no doubt in the yautja's mind that the ooman was directing his feminine mating musk at him. The ooman's facial expression changed as his eyes slighted swelled and his blunt teeth showed from behind his lips. The small delicate tuft of hair over the ooman's left eye raised slightly and the stink of lewdness began to ooze from the ooman.

"Pauking k'uss-os!" Rah' Dum' Twei roared in disgust, never had he been so insulted. The thought of the ooman tainting him in such a way stoked the youngblood's anger to the point of rage. The yautja was becoming blinded with anger and losing control. How can I counter such a stinging insult? He thought to himself wanting to rip the ooman's head off, but wasn't a good fighting position to do so. He had never been attracted to another male and he never presented himself to attract them. And now the ooman filth was taunting him with his innuendos.

Kill the soft meat, he thought, kill him now and end the humiliation. For Rah' Dum' Twei now was not the time to think of formalities. He wanted the ooman dead. The ooman had no honor and no sense honorable jehdin/jehdin. The ooman fought like a rogue although he had form and strength. The youngblood was losing his edge in this fight and he had to quickly regain it or he would be embarrassed by the ooman defeating him and soliciting rut from him.

A death of silence fell over the room and the youngblood thought about what he could do to end the madness with the ooman before the ooman's behavior left a mental scar. What seemed like a forever passed, then the room roared to life. The youngblood let out a blood curdling growl as he threw back his large thick head and brought it smashing down on ooman's smaller more delicate one. The yautja felt a jolt in his own neck, but the ooman took the brunt of the blow, which satisfied the hunter.

"Thei-de -de thei-de," he roared as the force from the head butt sent the ooman sailing through the air and crashing towards the ground. The youngblood could see that the male was dazed, but not unconscious. For this, he was glad; now he could stomp the pathetic piece of flesh in the ground and regain his dignity. Shaking his massive head to clear it, the youngblood focused on the ooman.

Before the crumbled body could come to a halt on the rough floor, the yautja moved towards the downed creature and began to kick the ooman viciously in his side. The blows were brutal and relentless as the yautja put everything he had into each kick. Without interrupt, the massive foot repeatedly pummeled the ooman not caring where it landed. The clawed booted feet were furious and unrelenting. They were doing the work of their owner and they were doing it quite well. The onslaught of kicks left the ooman no opportunity to defend or counter what was happening. Much to the youngblood's surprise, the insulting musk from the ooman was gone. Satisfied with the small victory, Rah' Dum' Twei continued with a barrage of thunderous slide splitting kicks that rendered the ooman paralyzed to move. All the large male could do was clench and meagerly protect himself from the blows that would soon end his worthless life. His legs began to tire, but he forced them to continue. He could feel his temperature increase as he moved his feet with a fury. All he could see was himself killing the ooman with his large feet.

The unthinkable happened, the ooman found strength.

Without warning the youngblood felt a sharp pain and then heard a noticeable 'crack' sound at his legs. He heard the sound of his leg bracers groan as they bent sickly at his calves, he wasn't sure, but he thought he heard the bone in his leg snap. He hoped that his leg bone had not been broken. An overwhelming stinging pain shot up his leg that tried to force him to scream, but he would not. He had screamed too many times from the ooman's blows and he wasn't going to allow this to be another opportunity for the weaker creature to heap disgrace on him. His mind and spirit were willing, but his body was weak and his bruised legs could not support the weight of his body. Like a tall strong uogh'mau tree being chopped down in its prime, the youngblood fell to the ground with a heavy thud.

For a moment the yautja just lay on the ground shocked in disbelief. One moment he was pounding the ooman senseless, and the next moment he was downed by the weaker creature with the tables turned. This hunt was not going well for him and it was obscuring everything he was taught about the oomans. They were respectable prey, but they were nowhere close to doing the damage that was being done to him. Either the oomans he was fighting were extraordinary or he was a pathetic excuse for a yautja. No one had ever bested him in jehdin/jehdin and he had been the best t'ki'bork in both levels of his classes for chiva training; not to mention he was one of the threes, out of nine, who had survived his chiva and became blooded. This hunt was all wrong and he had to do something to make it right or he'd end up dead his first night on the backwater planet. His legs hurt, his back hurt, his head was aching and the temperature was starting to feel oppressive. He was accustomed to hot temperatures, but because the fight was attacking him on all levels he was beginning to lose his strength.

After what felt like an i'dilmo-sedi', eternality, the yautja saw the ooman male standing near him. He was surprised, to know the creature had enough strength to endure the brutal thrashing he had just dished out, in addition to having enough vigor to stand on both its legs. By the way the ooman clutched his side, Rah' Dum, Twei could see that he had in fact wounded the ooman. The creature was just being stubborn and would not admit defeat. It really didn't matter if the ooman admitted defeat, Cetanu would come for him when it was time for the ooman to leave this place and the soft meat would sleep the sleep of death.

The youngblood watched as the ooman painfully meandered towards him. The male looked down at the yautja as he took a ragged breath. There was a pained expression on the ooman's face as he took in air, the young hunter smiled behind his mask knowing he had injured the ooman. When the male looked down at the youngblood, the wretched stench of the ooman's mating musk returned, along with the lewd look on the ooman's face.. From his mask, the yautja could see that the male was getting very hot in his crotch area; this made the youngblood feel sick, but he knew there was no way he was going to let the inferior creature's musk immobilize him.

Mentally coming out of his shock, the youngblood realized the ooman was preparing to kick him when he saw a heavily booted foot drawback, then strike him hard in his side. He hoped that the blow didn't drive any of the bolts of metal deeper in his flesh. He had forgotten about the small bits of metal, but he knew they could be lethal to him if they hit the right organ or artery. He braced himself for the blow and the second one that almost threw the ooman off-balance. This was his open opportunity and he took it, he reached out a large taloned hand and grabbed at the ooman. Luck was with him and he felt his fingers tighten around the ooman's leg. Immediately the booted foot started stumping at his arm and hand, but he held on. He wasn't going to let the weak creature shake him off that easy. Pulling hard he felt the ooman loose balance as his feet were pulled from under him and the soft meat fell on top of him.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Looking over at the still brawling pair, the larger yautja realized that there would be no end to the fight between the large ooman and the youngblood until one of them were dead. Dead was okay with the yautja so long as the fight between the two was fair. Although the pair was jehdin/jehdin, the older hunter could smell that the youngblood was at a disadvantage. The male ooman emitted the oddest of musk, which could be have been some sort of mental defense mechanism, but it was also physically stifling. The musk was disturbing and at the least, it probably made the youngblood lose focus with the fight.

Do they all use this fighting technique, the hunter thought, and then he turned his attention to the smaller ooman. Looking at the diminutive ooman he wondered if it gave off the same sort of smell as the larger, but was surprised when he got the scent of determination, satisfaction and curiosity. Strange, he thought looking between the two, quite opposite, he continued to think.

As the heat of the night thickened, the smaller ooman seemed pensive. The smell of urgency came on the ooman and the hunter saw that he was looking around the immediate area for something. There was no concern about his presence, no fear in his proximity, in fact the tiny ooman didn't seem to notice the hunter until he strayed a little too close, then he quickly moved in the opposite direction searching. Whatever could he be looking for? The large yautja thought watching the small thing scurry about. Perhaps… the elder began to think, and then he remembered the weapon the small ooman was going to use on Rah' Dum' Twei. Ahhh yes, he continued to think. The weapon.

Looking around the area with his thermal vision, the yautja spotted the tiny weapon that the ooman had used on the prey and on the youngblood. He pointed a large taloned finger at the weapon and gave a low growl. Quickly the ooman's small head shoot up in the direction of his voice. Looking where the male was pointing, the ooman moved to retrieve the small weapon and nodded in gratitude towards the yautja. The ooman hurriedly searched the area one last time making sure nothing was forgotten as the presence of the yautja in proximity to his own. The elder continued to watch in silence, studying the ooman. Once it seemed the ooman had found what he was looking for, he abruptly halted his search and looked towards the still brawling pair. The elder also turned his attention back to the pair.

Again the large yautja smelled the rut musk from the ooman or something that was similar to the smell of rut. He looked at the larger ooman and thought how offensive the male was for emitting the inappropriate smell. He was sure his nephew was not k'uss-os, but maybe the ooman was and in some strange kind of way the creature was attracted to the youngblood. Maybe the ooman didn't even know that he was emitting the smell, either way, it was a distraction to the youngblood and it was taking away his edge in the fight.

Now they were choking each other, with neither giving an inch to the other. The seasoned hunter could see that the ooman was matched with the strength and determination of the youngblood and it made him look at the soft meats in a different light. Maybe there is something to these creatures, he thought to himself as he watched the mêlée before him. They are proving to be to be quite formidable opponents on different levels.

He watched and recorded.

They continued choking each other as they knelt before each other. The elder could see that both were trying to stand before the other in order to gain the advantage and possibly win the fight. Together they stood, but the yautja was taller which gave the youngblood the advantage. The elder sighed, it was such a shame to see the ooman die, now the youngblood would snap the smaller creature's neck and take his skull. He did enjoy seeing the ooman fight his nephew; it helped the youngblood develop character and knowledge.

Turning away from the pair, the elder brought his attention back to the diminutive ooman that was also watching the fight as he stood a safe distance away from the larger yautja. There was no concern from the small ooman that the youngblood would kill his companion. How odd, the elder thought. Usually the oomans would be screaming, yelling and attacking to help a comrade if they had not run away by now, instead, the small ooman just waited to see what the outcome would be.

A sharp high-pitched yautja scream erupted in the room and the elder instinctively snatched his head in the direction of the sound. Never had he heard a sound such as that and could only mean that the youngblood was suffering some kind of mortal wound at the hands of the ooman. When he looked at the pair, he saw the ooman grabbing the young blood firmly by his waist with both hands and embedding his knee solidly into the crouch of the youngblood. And to make matters worse for the youngblood, the ooman drew the yautja's pelvis close towards him to drive the point home.

Paya help him, the elder thought as his large hand move to cover his own crotch area. He felt the youngblood's pain and was glad that it was the youngblood and not him that was receiving the blow. I hope he is able to sire pups, if he can't then all is lost for his linage continuing and honor will not be his. The elder continued knowing how important it is in yautja society to pass on one's lineage. If the youngblood couldn't sire pups, then he would be nothing.

These oomans have no honor; he continued to think as he shook his massive head sorrowfully at his nephew. He wanted to avenge his nephew, but he knew it was not his place and if he made a move for the large ooman, the smaller one would surely attack him.

Again, the oppressive odor of the larger male's rut musk permeated the air.

The elder saw his nephew double over to protect himself from another battering to his sensitive parts, from the ooman. All the younger yautja could do was hug himself tight so the ooman could not strike him again. Next, the elder yautja saw the ooman lean in close to the youngblood's head and say something, but he didn't think the youngblood understood or that he was even listening. If he wasn't, then the elder knew that the gkinmara from the youngblood's mask was recording everything that was happening and being said.

The tides had shifted for the youngblood and now the ooman would be the victor. The youngblood was paralyzed with pain and in the most debilitating way. He could do nothing to defend himself, only accept what would be done to him and pray that Cetanu would come for him quickly.

Watching the ooman draw back a spiked fist to finish the youngblood off, the seasoned hunter hoped he was ready to be named among the honored because he did put up a good fight with the ooman. There was nothing dishonorable able about how that youngblood fought, in the fluke of battle, the youngblood had encountered a very worthy opponent.

"Zuleyma!" the elder heard a soft, clear and very feminine voice say. Turning his head in the direction of the voice he looked down at the diminutive male… no female in shock as he cocked his head to the side. The female ignored the yautja and stared at the taller ooman.

A female, he thought, the small creature can't be female. Oh but it can be, came a second thought. That would explain the tiny size, but what about the skill and speed at fighting. That was still a puzzle for the yautja. From what he knew only the male oomans were warriors and fighters. The females were smaller and more docile, prone to screaming fainting and running away if they could. Never had he heard of a female ooman warrior or a female fighting yautja.

The larger ooman stopped. He did not strike Rah' Dum' Twei, just stood glaring down at the youngblood, and then looked at the small female. The larger yautja watched as the tiny female made several gestures to the larger ooman and the ooman responded with a knowing gaze, then he turned to walk away from the youngblood.

As the ooman turned to walk away, the youngblood seized the opportunity. He stood up straight on shaky legs and drew back his fist to hit the ooman at the back of the neck.

"Rah' Dum" Twei… son of Kha'za Mo'Toori Ogai T'oju!" the elder spoke the full name of his nephew harshly in yautja and the young blood stopped in mid-motion. He wanted the young hunter to stop before he did something what would damage him for the rest of his life. Sometimes the young and hot-blooded act and react without thought, only having to live with that one moment of imprudent behavior for the rest of their life. A foolish act that can be avoided, and this day will be avoided if he was to be successful with shaping his t'ki'bork into the kh'rom cra'ek that his sire wants him to be.

The elder yautja wanted his nephew to understand that he had to make a choice and the choice that he makes will follow him for the rest of his life. The youngblood had to know when to pick and chose the right battles to win, this would also determine his place in their clan. Strength without wisdom was nothing. "There is no honor in fighting your opponent from behind or killing your prey unseen. Those are not the ways of yautja and to do them is to mark yourself ve'nde-thwei." The elder said in a firm voice to the younger yautja. He knew the youngblood was listening even though he spoke not a word. "Youngblood, there are no badblood in the Aesa't Fhaeln Clan, do not make yourself the first." He finished leaving the young yautja to make his choice.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

A sense of urgency came over the smaller female. It was past time for them to be gone. They had to get the dope and the money before the cops or other gang members came. Having to fight the strange man-creatures was one thing, but to have to fight a third time would be a bit much and the smaller woman didn't think either of them were up for the challenge. Got to leave fast, the smaller woman thought as she looked around for her crossbow and any used ammo, she couldn't leave anything behind.

A low growl followed by rapid clicking drew smaller woman's attention from her hasty search. She looked at the huge sunburst man-creature; he was pointing a large taloned finger at something. Carefully her eyes traveled to the place where the man-creature pointed. It flicked its talon and gave a second low growl, that's when the small woman saw her weapon. Quickly the female moved to where her crossbow was. Thank you, she mouthed, and nodded in gratitude towards the man-creature.

Once the small female had found what she was looking for among the dead and on the floor and wall of the building, she abruptly halted her search and looked towards the still fighting titans. This has to end, the small woman thought, though she was very proud of her student. She was going head-to-head with the man-creature and was holding her own. She was sure the younger woman was fully enjoying the fight on an erotic level; she usually did take the fighting to that level when she felt it was challenging enough or if she thought she might die during the brawl. Zulie was strange like that, but the small woman never made Zulie feel bad about her oddness, just tried to help her channel her energy. I'll have to braid her hair, the smaller woman thought knowing that hair braiding would be the only consolation for stopping the younger female in her fight.

Crash!

The small woman grimaced as she watched the younger woman fall atop the golden man-creature. The thing had grabbed Zulie by the leg and pulled her legs out from under her. Although she fell hard, the taller woman made no sound. This pleased the smaller woman; the taller woman was a true warrior. The rigorous training she put the younger woman through had made her tougher than the other females in gang and brought her to the place of being second and her left hand. And now giving a fight for her life, the younger woman was reaffirming her position and the confidence that she had in her as her second.

The exchange between the woman and the man-creature was spontaneous. No sooner had the woman landed on the creature, they started choking each other. The smaller woman could see the determination on her protégée's face and knew the woman was intent on killing the thing. She wasn't sure if the woman could actually kill the huge man-creature with her bare hands; she was sure the younger woman had taken a couple hits of cocaine and the coke was probably making her think she could do anything, which included killing the man-creature. The small woman just watched what the outcome would be.

Together both the man-creature and the woman moved still holding each other's neck and now they were kneeling before each other. They were trying to stand up and force the other to the ground. She could see Zulie pushing to stand and so was the man-creature. Their strength matched each other as they rose from the ground simultaneously. She could tell the woman was stressed, but she did not give up. Both man-creature and her protégée perspired as they fought. She could see they were tiring, but they refused to give up. She could see determination in both of them.

The smaller woman watched as Zulie allowed the man-creature to stand solidly on both feet, then she released her grip from its neck, grabbed it firmly by its waist with both hands and kneed it hard in the crouch drawing the man-creatures pelvis towards her. That has to be some painful shit, the smaller woman thought, when she heard the thing let out a high-pitched scream. She felt sorry for the man-creature; Zulie was not being merciful.

The man-creature doubled over in pain trying feebly to protect his sensitive parts from the unrelenting female. That is not good; the small woman thought. She saw the female lean forward and whisper something to the man-creature. She could not hear what the younger woman was saying, but she could guess it was a nasty taunt telling the thing he was at the end of his rope.

Time to end this, the smaller woman thought knowing exactly what the younger woman was going to do when she saw Zulie draw back her spiked fist to finish the man-creature off by pummeling his face.

"Zuleyma!" she spoke. She knew this was against the rules of Hit and Run, but she could not let the woman jeopardize their mission. Pleased with the woman's response; Zulie looked up to see the older woman. The older woman's brown eyes spoke volumes and she was sure Zuleyma was looking into them. They ordered her to cease and desist.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

It was a struggle. Every part of her hurt except her calves and her feet, they seemed to be the only things that the man-creature didn't kick or hit. She felt like she was going to throw-up, but there was nothing in her stomach. They never ate before a mission and this was one time that she was glad for the policy. Had she eaten anything it, would be all over her leather along with her blood. Her blood, she thought, she had to make sure that none of her blood was spilled and left behind in this place. They could leave no DNA for the cops or the other gangs. Got to stand up, her mind groaned. Slowly her body began to cooperate with her. After a while she was standing, hunched holding her middle. She looked down and saw the man-creature on the ground about two feet away from where she had been lying. It kicked the shit out of her, made her feel she was run over by a tractor-trailer repeatedly. Ohhh how she hurt, but she would get her revenge. She could smell it, it was right around the corner and she would make sure she got it back soon.

You dickless bitch, she thought as she forced her feet to ambled towards the downed creature. Taking a ragged breath, she looked at the man-creature and it came to her in a rush; her adrenaline, her second-wind and her arousal. I'm going to fuck you up real good, Zulie thought as she drew back her heavily booted foot and kicked the man-creature hard in its side. She landed another kick that almost threw her off-balance, but she caught herself. Scream bitch, her mind shouted, but she only received a grunt for her efforts. She was going to kick the living shit out of the thing and maybe stomp it in the ground in the process. She would do it worse than it did her. She wanted to break some ribs and hear it scram like a bitch again.

I said scream bitch! Her mind shouted again. Oh God how she wanted to scream at the golden man-creature. How she wanted it to hear her accentuate every blow she gave it with her words. She wanted it to hear and feel her fury. Have it taste her boot while it screamed its bitch song to her.

Scream bitch! She thought again and she felt something grab her leg. Immediately she started stumping at the thing that had grabbed her, but much to her dismay she was pulled to the ground and she felt herself land on something soft.

When she finally got her breath, Zulie could see that she was lying on top of the man-creature staring in the face of the bronze metal mask. Her heartbeat sped up and she could feel the goose pimples forming all over her. Her nipples were becoming erect. She reached for the man-creature's throat at the same time it reached for her throat. Together they started choking each other, with neither giving an inch to the other. I'm not going out like this bitch; Zulie thought as she stiffened her long slender fingers and clamped down hard on the man-creature's thick neck. We will die together in this, dog, tonight bitch, she thought ready to do more fighting.

With as much pressure she applied to the golden man-creature's neck, it applied a counter pressure to her own neck. She stiffened the muscles in her neck to slow down the thing's chokehold it had on her, hoping she could do more damage to the thing before it killed her. Together they moved still holding each other's neck and now they were kneeling before each other. I've got to stand up and force it to the ground, she thought as she pushed to stand. As she stood the man-creature also stood with her matching her strength. Shit! Zulie thought …this bitch is taller and will end up forcing me to the ground if I don't do something fast, she thought and then her opportunity came. When the man-creature was solidly on both feet, Zulie released her grip from its neck, grabbed it firmly by its waist with both hands and kneed it hard in the crouch as she drew the man-creature's pelvis towards her. She hoped to God that the thing was a male and its sex organs were in the same place as human male's. She also hoped that the thing's sex organs were as sensitive and vulnerable as a human male's.

She got her answer when she heard the creature let out a high-pitched scream. "Yes…, she breathed softly as she climaxed. She could feel the wet flowing down both her inner thighs and her pussy was on fire. "Bitch… you are mine…" she whispered to the man-creature as he crunched forward trying to protect his abused genitals."… And I have thoroughly fucked you… you are a used trick and it's time to say good-bye." Zulie continued whispering to the bronze mask as she drew back a spiked fist to finish the man-creature off by pulverizing his face.

"Zuleyma!" she heard a familiar voice say and she looked up to see her jefe giving her the signal to cease and desist. She stared in disbelief and thought, not now, please not now. She wasn't finished and the man-creature bitch was still standing.

How she hated for her leader to end her orgasm so abruptly. She wanted to finish things off just right. Everything was perfect; all she had to do was have her spiked fist make contact with his face. But she couldn't, she had never disobeyed her jefe and she never would. Feeling slightly defeated and somewhat unfulfilled she let her arm drop to her side. All the adrenaline, cocaine and aggression that were fueling her suddenly winked out. It was like she went cold turkey in whipping ass and she was lost. She'd need another snort of coke to jumpstart her kick ass mode again.

Staring somewhat dazed, Zulie waited for a moment before she did anything. She knew it was time to go, but her body was being disobedient. She knew what she had to do and why she had came out for the night, but she was slow about getting back on track. She watched as the smaller woman gave her the signal to retrieve her weapons along with the wooden crate that had the dope in it, and then get on her motorcycle. Time to leave, she thought. Obediently she turned away from the golden man-creature accepting the end of something that was beautiful to her… kicking the man-creature's ass. She didn't know if she'd get the chance to fight the thing again, but she prayed that she would. She didn't want to be left hanging with the thought of not knowing if she could have won.

As she turned away, Zuleyma heard the loud growl and strange clicking of a man-creature and it didn't sound like the man-creature she was fighting. Immediately she turned towards the sound and stood face to fist with the man-creature she had just beat down. In mid-air his fist hovered where the back of her head had been. The thing was trying to give her a sucker punch while her back was turned. She stared to get angry all over again. This won't end until one of us is dead, she thought and she waited for the golden man-creature to make his move.

All she could do was stare at the golden mottled fist. It quivered like it wanted to knock her lights out, but the other man-creature she did not know existed had stopped it from punching her in the back of the head. Do it bitch, she thought …do it so I can finish fucking you up… she waited for the fist to move, but it never did. The second man-creature growled something else to Zulie's bitch and he lowered his fist. She could sense he didn't want to comply, but he did.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

The smaller woman knew she had frustrated her protégée, she knew that there were times when the outcome of a fight would be disappointing. Everything about the young female was dejected. Her body language screamed it, she could tell by the way the taller woman let her arm droop to her side. Zulie was unhappy and needed to be soothed. I will definitely have to braid her hair, the smaller woman thought to herself knowing she had to make up for spoiling the younger woman's victory. At some point Zulie would get over the incident, but for now she would be pacified and placated.

Giving the younger woman the signal to get her weapons and the wooden crate that had the dope in it, the smaller woman then pointed towards their motorcycles, it was time to leave. Zulie complied and the smaller woman was glad that her protégée was able to pull herself away from the fight. She was hoping that the younger woman would be obedient and realize she could find this fight at a later date. In silence she watched as the woman turned away from the man-creature accepting the pre-mature end of the fight.

Nasty shit, the smaller woman thought as she saw the golden colored man-creature draw back his fist to punch Zuleyma in the back of the head. I can't let this happen, she thought as she reached for her crossbow. Before she could draw her weapon upon the golden colored man-creature, the larger sunburst colored man-creature growled at the smaller one and clicked strangely at him.

She didn't know what the larger creature said, but the smaller of the two stayed his fist. It was frozen in mid-air. The unsuspecting Zulie turned in time to stare as the large golden fist that would have damaged her spine and possibly broken he neck. Like a statue she stood there staring and glaring. She looked as if she wanted the man-creature to hit her so she would have a reason to fight back. There was silence in the room and the only thing that could be heard was the hard breathing of Zulie and the golden colored man-creature.

As quietly as she could, the smaller woman returned her crossbow to its place at her thigh and the faint click of the weapon being secured in its holster caused the sunburst colored man-creature to turn and look at her. It tilted its head to regard her, and then it looked to her hand at her thigh.

It was over.

They would leave and be far from the place before anyone came. Time was becoming essence. In silence she walked towards the back of the building where her motorcycle was waiting. As neared the sunburst colored man-creature she contemplated advising it to leave before the police or anyone else came.

She noticed that the golden colored man-creature was still staring at Zulie, no doubt wanting with every part of him to kill her. Zulie being in her own funk ignored the creature and did as she was told. She got her weapons and attached the dope to the motorcycle.

When she was standing beside the sunburst colored man-creature the small woman stopped and looked up into its golden facemask. It looked down at her behind the unreadable gold with its head cocked to the side. For a moment there was quiet between them, then she spoke. Her voice was soft, sweet and clear. "I don't know if you understand me, but you should leave also. There will be a lot of police around here soon," she waited for a response, but there was none. "You don't want to be around when they come," she finished as she saw Zulie put on her midnight black helmet and the woman started her Kawasaki ZX-2.

Turning her head to towards the sound of the motorcycle and spotting the metal case that was dropped at the back of the building, she walked toward the metal attaché case not sparing either man-creature a second thought and scooped up the case and attached it to her 2017 Suzuki Hayabusa. She put on her midnight black helmet and started her motorcycle.

Next, the only thing to be heard was the engine sounds of the Japanese motorcycles cutting through the thick humidity of the night. The women revved the engines as the brazen metal machines spoke to each other.

"One hour, Zuleyma," the smaller woman said over the com-link between the two helmets. "This took too long," the smaller woman said turning to face the larger woman who had regained some of her vitality.

Tonight was a strange night. One she would remember for a long time. The small woman didn't know what kind of impact the new creatures would have on the dynamics of what happened on the streets of southern California, but she hoped that they wouldn't shift the paradigm of the constant struggle on the streets too much in the wrong direction.

Hearing the smaller woman, but not turning to acknowledge her, Zulie knew her jefe was not pleased with the turn of events; she also knew the woman understood that things that caused the delay were beyond their control. All had not been lost; the mission despite the setbacks was successful, they had killed the bad guys and got the dope along with the money. What more was needed from the mission?

"The streets have been sweep," Zulie said, across the com-link signifying that the mission was over, and then she revved up the engine on her motorcycle. "And we have sweep them," the smaller woman countered and she also revved up the engine on her motorcycle. Once smaller woman acknowledged that the mission was over, Zulie raised her motorcycle off the ground in defiance and the smaller woman led the way out of the building and rode off in the humid night.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Time to kill it, the youngblood thought as he grabbed the ooman by the throat. He was very surprised as to see the ooman mimic his behavior and felt the soft slim slight fingers wrapping themselves around his own thick neck. He applied pressure to the ooman's neck and the creature did the same to him. The youngblood let out a low growl of irritation at the ooman disgusted with the way the pathetic continue to defy his superiority.

Cut off its breath, the yautja thought and his grip tightened around the ooman's throat. When Rah' Dum' Twei tightened his grip so did the ooman. C'jit, he thought why does he have to be so difficult, he felt the ooman tighten his grip on his neck. He wondered what kind of ooman he was fighting. From what he knew of the weaker creatures he should have finished the thing off a while ago.

Without warning, the ooman began to slowly stand. The yautja could see that this would give the soft meat an advantage and leverage if he stood higher, so the youngblood began to stand also. Knowing he was the taller of the two, he would use his height and strength to force the ooman to his knees and then he would stomp him into the ground. The muscles in his legs ached, but he forced them to obey him. He had to stand and stand higher than the ooman if he was to gain the advantage. Heat seeped from his body threatening to cripple him and take away his edge, but he ignored it. He had to dominate the ooman.

"Yes,' the youngblood breathed softly when he had reached his full height and was towering over the ooman as he continued with his stranglehold around the male's neck. The yautja towered solidly over the smaller male on both feet. Soon he would be the victor, there was no way the ooman could stand against his raw strength.

The soft meat has yielded to me, the youngblood thought as the ooman released his grip from the youngblood's neck. This gave the yautja the energy to squeeze the smaller male even harder. Yes, the youngblood thought, thei-de -de thei-de. The pre-mature victory for the yautja was cut short when the ooman grabbed him firmly by his waist with both hands and brought a muscular knee up solid between his legs. For a brief moment Rah' Dum" Twei felt nothing. He was weightless, floating outside his body and the world was completely quiet around him, not a sound. He looked down at the ooman and saw there was a depraved disturbing look on the male's face as he felt his lower half being drawn closer to the soft meat's lower half. His olfactory glands again caught the all too familiar wretched stench of the ooman's mating musk.

This is not good, the youngblood thought as he heard something so alien yet very familiar shatter the quietness that loomed around him, he heard his own voice scream high pitched, something he could never imagine in a lifetime. It was maddening and the pain too unimaginable to describe in words, though he felt it over every inch of his body, especially in his groin. He felt like he had been slain in the most ruthless way. Why would a male disrespect another in honorable combat? A pure win should be determined by strength and skills, not by underhanded tricks.

The stifling odor of the male's sexual climax along with the fact that the youngblood's breath was trapped somewhere in one of his three great lungs with him unable to breath; this threatened to kill him. Not only was the sexual stench and loss of breath slaughtering him, but the pain to his groin which was definitely taking his masculinity away and also the possibility of him ever siring any pups, was crippling him. He was helpless, all he could do was ask Paya to spare his pitiful life so he could one day avenge himself and reclaim his honor. Maybe if his sire were feeling benevolent when they returned, he would just privately put him away instead of publicly disowning him.

The youngblood grunted at the pain.

Doubling over to protect himself from another assault to his sensitive parts, the yautja hugged himself tight and tried to breathe. He felt like the facemask on his helm was suffocating him, but the pain the ooman had delivered to his crotch was more intense so he decided to protect his vulnerable area instead of adjusting the mask of his helm. The ooman leaned in close to his head and said, something, but he didn't understand, could not understand because the pain that was wracking his body would not let anything else get his mind's attention. All he could think about was the pain that he was in and if he would ever recover from it.

The ooman stood tall on shaky legs and Rah' Dum' Twei knew his end had come. He saw the ooman draw back a spiked fist to finish him off and the yautja said a prayer. "Paya, e'lka hi'y hoac'yl wah dan'nard mwei'lei sn'ama". "God, into thy hands I commend my spirit".

The youngblood waited for Cetanu, but he never came.

Taking the opportunity to see if he was blessed or cursed, Rah' Dum' Twei looked up to see the ooman with his mangled back turned to him. Paya has blessed me; the youngblood thought as he gathered himself and slowly straightened. With this blessing I will end your pathetic life and regain my honor, the young hunter thought as he drew back his fist to punch the ooman squarely at the small of his neck. If he hit the ooman at the base of the skull as hard as he could, then he would have an instant kill. The force of the blow would shatter the spine, severing the head from the spine in the process. He would not have the spine attached to the skull when he made it trophy, but just having the skull of this ooman would be honor enough for him.

"Rah' Dum" Twei… son of Kha'za Mo'Toori Ogai T'oju!" the youngblood heard his full name called harshly in yautja and he stopped in mid-motion.

"There is no honor in fighting your opponent from behind or killing your prey unseen. Those are not the ways of yautja and to do them is to mark yourself ve'nde-thwei. Youngblood, there are no badblood in the Aesa't Fhaeln Clan, do not make yourself the first."

Rah' Dum' Twei wanted to roar out in pain. He hurt all over, his mind, body, soul, spirit and honor. The ooman had taken so much from him in such a short time and he could do nothing to reclaim anything. In silence his fist hung in mid-air. He listened to the words of his uncle and knew they were wisdom and he was guiding him to truth. The youngblood needed truth, but what he wanted more than anything else was to put the ooman to death, but he could not.

Once the seasoned hunter finished speaking to the young hunter, the ooman rounded on the youngblood only to be greeted by his large fist. In mid-air the large golden speckled colored fist trembled. All the youngblood's rage and fury was flowing wildly through his body, He was visibly torn between doing what was right and doing what felt right for him. The ooman stared at his fist he could see and smell anger on the ooman. The smaller creature looked at him and his fist defiantly urging him to do what he wanted to do, fight. The wanted the fight also, but was restrained as he was. Still under strain and control, the youngblood lowered his fist.

"This is only the first night my t'ki'bork," the elder yautja said from behind his nephew. "You will have more than enough time to hunt the ooman and make trophy from the skull. Psisursu i'ars zi'asuhursu." The elder yautja finished and Rah' Dum' Twei understood.

A few more moments passed and the ooman turned away again and walked towards the rear of the building. The yautja was frozen in time as he watched, waited and trusted that his delnis nieryis would lead him to truth and righteousness.

Time passed and the youngblood watched both oomans get on their land transports. First the taller ooman who had become his number one prey and the next the smaller more diminutive ooman whose skull would also end up in his trophy case. He watched them both leave in a clamor of loud rough mechanical sound that was indicative of the feel and energy that oozed from the larger ooman.

Once the oomans had disappeared in the humid night, the elder came to stand beside the youngblood. The younger yautja had calmed down somewhat, but he was still shaken by what had happened thus far. He had fought and neither loss nor won, his pride was injured severely, but he had not lost his honor, he had fought jehdin/jehdin and had not used a weapon.

A weapon, he thought, he had used his shuriken. He had thrown the shuriken at the diminutive ooman and it had not returned.

Looking wildly around the room, the youngblood tried to spy his weapon. Quickly he flipped back and forth between his various visions to see if he could locate the thing. It had to be there, somewhere in the room. He knew that his prized possession would not disappear in thin air.

"What are you looking for Rah' Dum' Twei?" the elder yautja said watching his nephew as if he was losing what was left of his frazzled mind. The young yautja was frenzied as he looked and smelled desperate. The seasoned hunter knew the youngblood should be fatigued, but whatever he was looking for seemed to be more important that his health at the moment.

"My… my… I don't see it," the youngblood said still looking for the weapon, but talking to his uncle. As quickly as his bruised body would allow him to move, he searched the area where he thought the weapon should be.

"Your what?" the larger yautja asked wanting the young hunter to find what he was looking for so they could leave. He thought about what the small female had said and decided he didn't want to be discovered on their first night on the hunt by the pol'lesh. He rolled the strange word around in his mind trying to figure out what it was. Whatever it was, the oomans didn't seem to want to stick around until it arrived and he thought it would be a good idea if he and the youngblood also left before it came. He didn't want them to be challenged or disturbed while training his nephew on the hunt. They had to be phantoms if they were to survive three months on the backwater planet.

"My shuriken," the youngblood continued. "I threw at the small ooman and it never came back." He continued there was concern in his voice. Why wouldn't it come back? He thought. It always comes back after it did its job. It was never long about the killing; it just sliced through and came back.

And it never will," the taller yautja said with a knowing expression on his face. The older yautja remembered how the small ooman had caught the weapon and claimed it as her weapon. He didn't think his nephew would get his weapon from the small female. She looked at the thing too possessively to consider returning it as a kind gesture. The ooman looked as if she meant to keep the shuriken.

"What? What are you talking about… they always come back…. It has to be here somewhere," Rah' Dum' Twei continued not understanding what his uncle was saying. He kept searching for his weapon.

"It is not here and you might see it again if you are lucky," the elder said wanting the youngblood to stop his futile searching. It was time to go and now he hearing some mechanical high-pitched screeching sounds. Its pitch and frequency repeating said that it was drawing near to them. The seasoned hunter determined there were several such things making the screeching sounds getting closer to them. Pol'lesh, he thought.

"Lucky what are you talking about?" the young hunter stopped searching and switching between visual modes and looked up at the older yautja. Why would he be lucky? He hadn't found his weapon… how would he have luck?

"The small ooman has claimed the weapon. You were not so lucky, but very confident with yourself." The elder yautja retorted. Indeed his nephew had been over confident and zazin with himself. Being zazin broke many warriors who knew not humility. Humility brought them down hard from high places.

"Confident… lucky… the ooman has my weapon…" the youngblood said confused. Rah' Dum' Twei, didn't know what his uncle was talking about, but he knew he didn't like what he was hearing. All he wanted to know was where his shuriken was.

"Yes, let that be your first lesson," the elder said with a stern voice. "Over confidence can kill you." He finished hoping the younger had seen and heard the wisdom in his words. There was much work to be done with the youngblood, but the elder hunter was sure that his nephew would learn and be molded into what his sire was designing him to be.

They youngblood said nothing, just stared blankly at the seasoned hunter.

"I think that this Cerr na' ya'ta's will serve you well providing you survive." The elder yautja said as he clasped the young hunter's shoulder. "You have done well this night." He continued as he encouraged his charge. "I think we have encountered some very unusual oomans who will make you earn your worth."

The young hunter listened to his uncle and could not believe the tiny ooman had taken his shuriken. There was no way he was going to believe that it had happened. If it was true then the small ooman would be his second most sought after prey on this Cerr na' ya'ta's hunt. He would get them both and he would savor the hunt as he killed them.

"It is time to leave this place," the elder rumbled as he walked towards the direction that the oomans had left and the young blood followed.

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Vocabulary/translation

(Have fun with these words and translations… I did… feel free to use them)

(Words…)

a'ka-ad idiot, stupid

Aesa't Fhaeln Iron Fist

awu'asa Full body armor

Cetanu the god of death

che'beiz tiny scavenger-like creatures found on the planet of Yaut; they are carrion eaters whose primary purpose in the food chain is to feed on dead or decaying flesh; sometimes these creatures also feed on live flesh and they can by quite painful; they are winged flying creatures about the size of a bumblebee; they are basically all sharp pointy razor-like teeth that reminds you of broken glass; when they latch on to the flesh that they are eating they will not let go until they have stripped off all the flesh; they feed like piranhas and can feed rather quickly; a lot of times the over eat and explode from gluttony; they reproduce like flies and they have very short life spans of about several hours once they reach adulthood;

Chiva a test, or trial hunt for kiande amedha

da'tnyl days

delnis nieryis master teacher

gkinmara video camera

guan night

Hi'ans-ftiats huntlust

Huntlust a strong desire to hunt and kill prey, it occurs when a hunter has not hunted in a while and the urge overtakes him or her, the strong craving is satisfied when the hunter has had a successful hunt

I'dilmo-sedi' eternality

Jehdin/Jehdin hand – to – hand combat; one-on-one

K'uss-os yautja slang for male homosexual; faggot

kh'rom cra'ek clan chief

ki'cti-pa wrist blades

kluoo thirteen

Mei'hswei bother

Mi oil, fuel

mon'eh money

moua'ka-a an alien creature the size of an earth monkey that is like and animated parrot that imitates in movement in sound, they are not too bright, but they can easily give the illusion of intelligence because they are excellent mimickers

nei'shi'wa uncle

Pauk! Fuck!

Paya God

pol'lesh police

psisursu prudence

rut sex

shuriken another advanced piece of technology, very similar in characteristics to the Smart Disc. The Shuriken is carried and transported as a flat circular device, but the push of its surface transforms it into a multi-pointed, sharp edged throwing star.

Sire father

t'ki'bork student

The Code Yautja Law

Thwei blood

toudi'hswei nephew

Uogh'mau a very strong tree from the yautja homeworld; It is the basic tree that the yautja build their homes in; the trees grow to be hundreds of feet high because they can support several families and they live to be thousands of years old; they grow slow and strong; The wood from the tree can be used as furniture, but only if the tree is damaged or destroyed; It is unlawful to take a uogh'mau sapling (a tree that is 500 yautja years old or less); usually when a male starts a family, he plants a new tree so his offspring will have a place to build a house; the amount of seeds planted by the male will be determined on how many pups he is planning to sire

va'mea a large guinea pig-like rodent about the size and weight of a capybara; the yautja hunt the animal for food and it is a delicacy; the animal is very docile for the most part unless it becomes rabid; when the creature becomes rabid, it is like a great white shark killing machine; when rabid the delicate meat is tainted and is poisonous; they have great colorful pelts

ve'nde-thwei badblood

zazin totally centered, within one's self

zi'asuhursu patience

Cerr na' ya'ta's Call to honor

(Phrases…)

Ci'asn su nuhrs i'ars rsui'asil su i'ars "Calm the mind and steady the hand"

Dui uhnzusiair zuhss le'hasuan zi'asuhursu the impetuous will learn patience

Gka uk thei-de dance of death

M-di H'chak/M-di H'dlak "No mercy/No Fear"

Paya, e'lka hi'y hoac'yl wah dan'nard mwei'lei sn'ama "God, into thy hands I commend my spirit"

Psisursu i'ars zi'asuhursu Prudence and patience

V'hak -de pauk! What the fuck!

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Please review this chapter. I would love to get your feedback. I look forward to hearing from you!

From The Author

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