This is a Black Garden side story and it's Lar'ja's POV detailing the events leading up to, and the meeting of, the human named Jess. Just a one-shot, but I was compelled. To those of you who read Black Garden, I hope you like this peek into Lar'jas head!

(Yautja lingo)

(Human lingo)

Enjoy!


I leapt, landing on a branch of the next tree without displacing so much as a leaf. It was planetary night and I took a moment to listen to the creatures that moved around me. I could see some of them clearly; the dark not causing me any difficulty the way it would one of the oomans of this planet; they who saw in full spectrum. I wondered, as I often did, about the oomans. What would it be to see the way they do? To eat the things they ate or to feel what they felt?

What would it be to find an ally among them as the Elders sometimes spoke about? Not a temporary alliance; one that ends once danger was past. But a true friendship? I did not believe as others of the Yautja that the oomans were nothing more than prey waiting to be killed. Some have said that I was a sympathizer. I was not. I have hunted and killed many oomans and found it to be quite enjoyable. However, I have noticed that beyond the superficial, they were much like us. Yes they could be sneaky and manipulative, excessively aggressive and violent, even cowardly. But so too could the Yautja and I refused to turn a blind eye to the fact. But like the Yautja, the oomans could also demonstrate positive traits; loyalty, honor, nobility, intelligence, cunning, bravery. That last always got me. I always placed skulls of those who'd faced me with bravery in places of higher honor than those who had not.

I have found a great deal of satisfaction on this planet, so much so that I took the effort of designing a device to be planted in my airways; a device that converted Earth atmosphere into the air that I needed most. It has worked perfectly so far and I have never told those of my pack about it. Though I gave them my allegiance all those many years ago, they have slowly changed and I no longer trust them. I am fairly certain that they know this though they have said nothing. It matters not. I gave my word and I would uphold it, but I would not be party to their… dishonor.

A jungle cat screamed somewhere to my right, far enough away that I could not see it through the thick undergrowth and dense trees. Just as well. I was not out here for it, no matter how much I liked their furs. It started raining and though I hated the cold, I always enjoyed the cool rains of these jungles. Really, if it were safe, I would probably stay on this planet indefinitely. I would have smiled if not for my mask. Perhaps I have been here too long as it is. I am becoming sentimental.

Sighing and adjusting the bag containing this nights' trophies over my shoulder, I continued to the next tree, and then the next, and the next after that. I spotted the large cat feeding on some rapidly cooling creature and wished it joy of its meal before continuing on. I was making my way back to where my wrist console said my seven companions were, mildly dreading their reasons for being together instead of hunting separately. It was never good when they hunted together and I resented having to be the only one who knew what honor was.

My sensitive hearing caught the sounds of ooman screaming. A few guns were discharged, but not many, not this far into the jungle unless they were militants of one kind or another. I did not think they were, however. Among the shouts of ooman males, were the higher cries of females and younglings. I was hoping that it was not for the reason I thought. I hoped it was just another hungry cat on the lose. But I was no fool.

Ignoring the rain and the night, I made my way as quickly as possible to the sounds that were dying off only to be replaced with the braying of Yautja drunk on their own power. Crouching on the edge of a small settlement, I looked around at the devastation. I was repulsed. This wasn't a hunt. This was a massacre. Never have I seen this before. My pack mates were full Bad Bloods and I was ashamed. I felt my own honor tarnished by this act of brutality.

Ooman blood and bodies, viscera, unidentifiable pieces lay everywhere. No matter where I turned my head, there were a few more bodies on the hard-packed ground to see. I looked up in time to see six of my seven pack mates behead an adult female who refused to cower before them. I said a prayer to Paya for her, believing that her courage deserved nothing less.

When her body fell, I saw the small female youngling that had been hiding behind her and my outrage grew. I did not hunt ooman females as a personal choice, though I knew others did. But there were rules regarding such things and we were not to hunt those with children. I looked around again and saw the bodies of all kinds littering the ground. I was disgusted.

I walked over to them and the child saw me first, cringing and shaking in fear, the cool tracks of tears on her warm face. She picked up something on the ground and held it up with shaking hands; a gun . The others laughed and Mah'te, noting where the child looked, glanced over and saw me.

"Lar'ja-thwei! You are right on time. This one wants to kill you! You should kill it first and not give it the chance!"

"Where is Yr'yin?"

"Out hunting as you were, I assume."

"I saw all seven here. Now there are six." I scowled behind my mask.

Ka'vin'tek laughed, "You must have miscounted! Come, kill this one and we will head back to the ship."

I glanced to the child, her eyes wide, then looked back to my pack mates, "You know I will not. She is hardly more than a pup."

"A pup with a weapon," Setg'in said.

"I refuse to partake of your insanity. There is no honor in killing a child."

Setg'in growled and advanced a step, but Dekna put a restraining hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. Mah'te and Ve'rin exchanged glances, but it was Mah'te who spoke, "Come now, Lar'ja-thwei! What of your honor if you let her live? There is no one left alive here to care for her. She will die whatever you do. If not honor, than what of mercy?"

I knew, suddenly, that it hadn't been oomans that they had been hunting. It had been me. They had laid a clever trap and I had fallen for it, the revulsion I had felt blinding me to the obvious. They meant to kill me and there was one missing. I looked at each of them and anger tightened my shoulders, knotted my muscles. I backed up a few steps, not to run away, but rather to give me room. I was good, one of the best, but they were good as well and they were seven to my one.

I snarled and tossed my trophies away from me, pulling my ki-cti-pa from behind my back and hitting the mechanism that caused it to extend with a soft "schinck" of metal on metal. Their reactions were instantaneous and I would have grinned if not for the mask, "If you wished to be introduced to Cetanu, there were easier ways to ask me. Fuckers."

They roared and I saw the child flee in terror only the barest of moments before they all charged. Their trap had been a good one, but the execution left something to be desired. They ran at me in a group and got in each others way, making it easy for me to pick off Tjau'ke'de first thing. He had attacked with dah'kte and it had been a simple thing to knock his arm aside and allow the group to push him off balance. I was proud of my timing. The end of my weapon went through his throat in a spray of blood and bone, his body spasming as it died.

Steg'in was next. I spun my ki'cti'pa, flinging Tjau'ke'des body off the end and bringing it up to halt his dah'nagara. Mah'te circled and came in from behind me with his dah'kte. I pushed the dah'nagara aside, swung back to take Mah'te in the head, then swiveled back to Steg'in. He was still off balance and I swept his feet out from under him. He landed face first so I plunged my hand into his back, grabbed hold, and tore his spine out.

I brought my ki-cti'pa up with my other hand at the same time and halted Ve'rin's chakt-ra while flinging the spine away from me. Ka'vin'tek thought to come from behind and under with his own ki'cti'pa but I heard him. Spinning, I got into his space, tangling his weapon with mine and wrenched it out of his startled hands. Roaring, I used both weapons to hit him in the back of the head, sending him sprawling. I didn't have time to finish him because Dekna had managed to grab a hold of one ki'cti'pa and yanked it, along with the other one, out of my hands. I didn't hesitate. While he fumbled, I unsheathed my dah'kte and shoved them under his jaw and up into his brain.

The blades caught on their way back out and something hit me hard in the back of the head. Then, everything went dark.


I woke, at least I think I woke, to freezing darkness. Knew, by pain alone, that my eyes were gone. I felt the wetness of blood on my face and body. I had been betrayed. It burned as much as the cold did, filling me with such impotent rage. If I survived, I would make certain that they did not. They blinded me. They blinded me! My mother had trained me well. I had spent two years blindfolded. But this was surely different. Dread and despair filled me. Eyes were everything to a hunter. What would I do without mine? I could hardly move from the cold. I knew I lay on snow. My shift suit was not producing heat so it must have been damaged. If I could have moved, I would have killed myself. Would have ended this quickly and with honor.

But as I passed out again, I found myself hoping that child had escaped.


I woke to the sound of what the oomans call a "car" very close to where I lay. I was torn between fear and knowing I was helpless, and hope that this ooman would end me quickly. A moment passed before I heard, "Oh. My. God."

I moved my head at the sound of a female voice. I was a little surprised. She was obviously an adult and sounded more than a little shocked and dismayed, but she made her tentative way over to me. I didn't sense fear from her, just caution and surprise. She stood over me for a moment and I could almost hear her thinking. Her heart was racing, I could hear it clearly over the sound of cold wind.

Then she seemed to make a decision, "C'mon, big guy. Let's get you in where it's warm."

Warmth. It sounded wonderful and made me wonder what the catch was. I growled in pain when she started tugging at me, jostling my injuries. Injuries I hadn't had when I was knocked out. Sucking it up, I manged to get one arm over her slender shoulders and put forth the greatest effort of my life to get to my feet with her help. She was so small… It was ridiculous that I could ever be dependent upon such a creature. Her head only reached to the height of my stomach. What had led me to this point of insanity?

We started walking and I tried to match my steps to hers over the snow and uneven ground, but my limbs were stiff with cold and everything hurt. I didn't know how long I had lain in the cold, but it must have been hours. I could feel my frozen blood flake off of me only to let fresh well to the surface. I was losing my heat with my blood.

She tried shifting her hold on me and I realized I wasn't quite as upright as I'd like, "C'mon, big guy. I know you're cold and your hurt and I promise you can rest soon in a warm bed with a heating blanket next to a roaring fire, safe and warm, but you're damned heavy. If you go down, I won't be able to get you back up and to safety. There's just a few more steps to the door and a little farther after that to a bed, so call up whatever you have left and I'll do the rest, but help a poor girl out here, ok?"

With a grim determination that left me trembling, I pulled my weight off of her. My breathing was labored and when she cautioned me about the doorway, I growled, "Fuck your door, ooman child maker."

She tensed and growled back as though she'd understood what I had said, "Hey, I'm trying to help you out here. A little less antagonism and a little more gratitude, hmm? Then again, if you think you can make it on your own, you're welcome to go back to your snow bank."

She was lucky I was injured and she was female. I stayed quiet though and she led me further into her blessedly warm dwelling and eased me down onto the promised bed. I hissed in pain, but after a moment began removing my armor, handing it off to her piece by piece.

I knew I would have to repay her for her help. There was simply no question about that. Honor demanded it of me. Even above my need for revenge against the Bad Bloods that I had foolishly given my loyalty to. But even thoughts of debt and revenge couldn't stop the warmth of the room and my fatigue from conspiring against me as much as my former pack mates had. I found I simply could not remain awake any longer. She spoke to me a few more times and finally I turned my face to her with a huff, not caring what she did with my ruined shift suit or when she cleaned and dressed my wounds. I simply did. Not. Care.

However, as sleep began pulling me under, I considered the ooman female. Perhaps I'd stay for a while and get to know her. Perhaps this would be the ally that I had wanted. She had willingly chosen to help me, after all, and did not need to. I would wait to contact my brother, Luar'ke-de, until I knew just what kind of ooman had taken me in. Only he among all of my other brothers and sisters would understand. Then I had another thought that made me smirk.

I wonder if she had a sense of humor?

Only one way to find out.


Lar'ja: Dark

Thwei: Blood

Luar'ke: Moon (add "de" and it becomes a male name)

Dah'kte: Wrist blades

Dah'nagara: short sword

Ki'cti'pa: combistick

Chakt-ra: Hunter's disc

Dekna: Eye(s)

Steg'in: Plague

Tjau'ke: rock made of compressed dust (again the "de" thing)

Mah'te, Ka'vin'tek, Ve'rin, and Yr,yin are all made up and mean nothing.