She was shoved into a dark room that was crowded with facehuggers and eggs kept in liquid filled tubes. There was a space off to the side for prisoners or live prey. The yautja roughly shoved her against the wall, and she glared at him as he secured a metal collar with a chain around her neck. She continued to give him an evil look until he swept himself out of the room, and then she slumped to the floor with a sigh. Only a couple minutes later, she felt the prevalent need to use the bathroom.

"Damn it." she muttered to the shadows.

While his hunt brothers chose to care for their wounds first, Mar'cte ran a quick diagnostics on the ship, then went to check the holding room. Disasters had been caused in the past due to careless transport of xenos. He tediously checked the remaining facehuggers, as well as the eggs, to make sure they were secure. When he had come into the room, he knew the ooman was there, but it took him a while to notice that she was watching him.

Mitanni didn't know why, but she sort of liked him. Something about him was different. He had broader shoulders than the others, and dark brown dreds. He still had his mask on, and hadn't healed his wounds, as though he hadn't even noticed they were there there. His skin was still caked in mud, and yet he was making sure the xenos were secure, and she admired that.

She didn't realize she'd been staring at him until he let out a short grunt, drawing Mitanni away from her thoughts. She cleared her throat nervously and looked away, not wanting to seem rude. When he turned towards the door to leave though, she was reminded that she still had to pee. He seemed nice enough so far, but she hesitated asking anything of him. However, the last thing she wanted was to be miserable, squirming and fighting holding it in.

"Excuse me, but can you take me to the bathroom?"

He turned to glance back at her, but then left without a word. She supposed that she could have been wrong about his character. Mitanni crossed her legs, and was left with nothing to do but twiddle her thumbs. She hoped someone would check on her later. She was pretty sure holding it in the whole ride would be impossible.

He was relieved that there was a simple reason behind her staring. Mar'cte would not touch another person's property though, and the ooman was considered just that. It would have been dishonorable to unchain her, even to escort her to the bathroom. Since the cargo was secure, he logged into the ships controls and steered the ship towards home. After that, he sought out the the male with the orange hilighted skin, Rel.

The group was discussing the hunt, and as Mar'cte passed them he said, "The ooman wishes to use the bathroom."

As he continued into the medical bay, he heard Ral's disgusted response, "Oomans are such needy creatures."

Mitanni was relieved to hear the woosh of the door as it sank into the wall. That was, until she looked up and saw who it was. The male with orange markings trudged up to her and impatiently snapped the metal off her neck. His fingers closed around her wrist and he harshly yanked her forward. He led her to the closest bathroom and shoved her inside. She peed as quickly as possible, but she could hear him growling behind the door.

She was almost glad to be headed back to chains, but Ral suddenly had other ideas, and steered her into the training hall. Two other yautjas were already inside, instructing the youngest looking male. He drug her in front of them, his grip on the back of her neck becoming increasingly painful. She started to struggle, but that only made him dig his claws into her skin.

"Ketcha, you were complaining about how you didn't get to claim a trophy. I agree, it would be a shame to go home empty handed. Why don't we set the ooman loose in the ship and I'll allow you to hunt her. I don't believe you have an ooman skull in your collection yet."

Mar'cte heard Ral's suggestion, and followed the voices into the small training room. He had thought to take the ooman as a trophy as well, but was glad the young hunter didn't jump at the opportunity. It would not have been the most honorable choice, seeing as the ooman was obedient, and confined inside a ship with limited options. Even though Ketcha declined, Ral seemed to want to keep her around. Ral plucked out one of her hairs, trying to think of what else to do with her.

When she started to fuss in his grip, Ral spoke up, "Fiesty, isn't she? We should get rid of that excess energy."

He quickly released her, and surveyed a shelf of weapons. Mitanni began backing away when he grabbed a mace with short blunt spikes at the end. Instead of striking her with it though, he shoved it into her hand. Mitanni grit her teeth, eager for the opportunity to try and hit him. She got into position, widening her stance for balance.

Ral mocked her, "If you get me to the ground, I'll let you go free. I'll even drop you off on Earth if you want."

Mar'cte didn't like games. However, he felt compelled to stay, simply to see how the ooman fared against one of them. They all knew that she couldn't defeat him, and Ral seemed confident that she wouldn't even cause a scratch. Still, the ooman had spirit. She swung at her opponent with all her strength, but was never fast enough to land a blow. Every time she missed, Ral made her pay for the mistake.

Mitanni landed on her stomach from a blow, and in trying to catch herself, she only made the wounds on her wrists start to bleed again. She was bound to end up looking like a cow with all the bruises he was giving her. She wouldn't give up though. She grabbed the mace she'd dropped, and launched at Ral. She furiously swung the weapon at him, but he easily evaded her.

He was getting more cocky. Before she could recover, he kicked her in the ass teasingly. That only made her more angry. She griped the handle of the mace tigher, feeling sweat from from palm collecting there. Mitanni swung at him again, but he quickly disarmed her. She still tried to hit him, but he slapped her across the face, making her stagger.

She scowled up at him as she grabbed the mace. She was quickly running out of steam though. It made her technique slopy, and Ral took full advantage. He goosed her, yanked her hair, and grabbed at her breasts to provoke her.

The next time he grabbed her though, she didn't use the mace. Mitanni twisted around and punched him right in the mouth. One of his tusks hit the top of his gums, making it bleed. Ral touched his mouth, smearing a bead of florescent green blood onto his fingers. His hunting partners all trilled and chuckled, and that made Ral furious.

His mandibles splayed out to the side as he let out a dark growl. Mitanni back pedaled, but he grabbed the front of her shirt and hauled her into the air by it. The fabric started to tear, but she clutched his arm to prevent it. Being naked in front of yautjas would have been more humiliating then being beaten by one. She squinted her eyes, preparing for pain, when someone spoke up.

Mar'cte casually intervened, "How much to take the ooman off your hands?"

Mar'cte was beginning to think that the ooman could make a great gift for one of his younger sons. She was pretty enough, quiet, and tame. It would be a waste to let her just become another sacrifice. Any ooman without manners or fighting skill could be used for sacrifices.

"She is not for sale." Ral growled.

Mar'cte didn't like to be turned down. He rolled his shoulders back, and stepped forward, "I'll fight you for her then."

He couldn't lock a lower ranked male into an official challenge, but no one could turn down a simple fight without seeming weak or cowardly. Ral lowered the ooman to the floor, and she began fixing her shirt. The ooman didn't look happy to have been spared any more of a beating. She angrily kicked the mace out of her path and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

They began to face each other, but then Ral backed out at the last moment, "The ooman wasn't meant to survive this hunt anyway. For the honor of your company on this hunt and ones in the future, I'm sure my bearer would want me to give you the ooman for free."

Mar'cte gave a thankful nod, then turned to the ooman. She still looked pissed, but without a command from him, she stepped to his side. The ooman still had dried blood on her wounds, and her clothes were torn. Now that she was his property, he could do what he wished with her. Mar'cte took good care of his property like most, so he led the way to the medical room.