A Battle of Titans

The Great Hunt is everything to the Yaut`ja. It is a way for them to test their new skills. To either adapt or die was the main rule they faced during their hunts. Ranks and titles depended on how skilled you were in the heat of battle or how many trophies you had acquired over the years, each presenting more of a challenge over the next. It became a contest of clans and even fellow brothers to prove their worth through their kills. It was no wonder they had taken the title of being the most feared of the galaxy.

However, that title slowly lost its potency with the uprising of the serpent creatures they had accidentally unleashed into the galaxy. Despite their best efforts and contingency plans in case something went wrong during these serpent hunts, the black demons still escaped and spread across planets like a plague. Whenever such a thing happened, the clan who failed to contain the serpents were held responsible and would only regain their honor after the annihilation of their mistake. Such efforts resulted in many deaths.

The serpents were quick to make their presence known in the galaxy. People grew to fear them just as much as they feared the Yaut`ja. The serpents were something out of a nightmarish legend, while the hunters were fearsome shadows that haunted the greatest of warriors. The title of top dog shifted back and forth between these two titan races. It wasn't long before war escalated and bathed the stars in both glowing and acidic blood.

Eventually, a mated pair brought an end to the chaos and gave their lives to control and decimate much of the serpent threat, driving many of them out of the stars and back to their desolate black world. Since then, they have become legends for the Yaut`ja people, forever remembered and praised to the point of becoming gods. Cetanu, the black God of death, much like the black skinned warrior he once was. Paya, the golden Goddess of life, in accordance to the more kinder nature of the warrior's mate.

As they drove the last of the serpents from another dying world, Paya gave her life to protect her mate from the blade of a queen. Cetanu, enraged by the death of his beloved, slaughtered the last of the serpents on other foreign worlds before heading straight toward the black planet, ready to kill any and all who confronted him. Legend says he managed to successfully take down three queens before being overrun. Since then, the mated pair have appeared in other hunters' dreams as well as within visions or sometimes before a lost hunter. Their spirits lived on to guide their brethren and future generations, as well as caring for those who passed on into the afterlife until their later rebirth.

Despite these efforts, however, the serpents would escape their captivities time and time again. Whether it be from the vessels of the Yaut`ja, or the cages of another curious race, the serpents served only their queen and the welfare of the hive. No cold, metal bars could hold them for long.

Dah`je returned to the main clan ship tired and annoyed, as well as bruised and battered. Everyone found out about his 'heroic deed' and poked at him, claiming he wanted to chop off his mandibles and live with the oomans. Some said that he was growing soft and had fallen for the female he had saved. To say the least, Dah`je was livid about some of the insults. Many brawls took place then and he gave a few of the warriors broken tusks, bones, and pride. He wasn't sure who exactly but one of the hunters reported everything to the elders back on the clan ship. They were all to report directly to their council chambers. Fighting amongst each other as they did warranted many consequences.

The red speckled Yaut`ja rolled his left shoulder, the muscles still sore when one of his opponents twisted it. The end result of that fight was a very bruised Dah`ja and a broken arm for the other warrior. They all seemed to have forgotten that while he was not the 'active' hunter, he knew where to hit and how to break bones easily without using too much strength. Of course, the number of injuries he had caused was sent to the clan elders as well, which they wished to speak to him personally about. There was no missing the foreboding feeling in his stomach. It told of bad things.

One by one, each of the warriors of the hunting party entered inside the circular shaped room of the elders' council chambers. Dah`je took a deep breath as he entered, preparing for the back lashing that was due. He has entered these chambers many times before. This would not, no doubt, be the last time either. His particular set of morals always ended him up in some trouble. There was always that one bullheaded hunter who thought what the red speckled Yaut`ja believed in was complete shit. Or a fantasy he apparently needed a fist to wake himself up from. Damn hotheaded walking pieces of-

"You would think that you'd have learn to avoid trouble by now, young one," The raspy voice of an elder whispered near his ear. Dah`je turned to see none other than the former clan leader, Yyorek Charr, standing beside him. "Though, considering how rash these newer generations are, I don't blame your luck."

Dah`je was immediately bowing before him, a fist slammed over his six chambered heart and gaze kept low. To be before such a wise and high ranking Yaut`ja was an honor; one of which he did not feel he deserved. A hand placed itself on his shoulder, pushing him gently so that he may rise. Dah`je still refused to look directly into the elder's eyes. Such an action would be very disrespectful and could result in either a swift or slow death. He generally hoped for the former, if such was the case.

Yyorek may not have been as young but there was still power behind his slowly aging body. He was much like Dah`je in color, albeit there being more red on his skin and his color having all but faded over time. He donned a light grey cloak over his shoulders, signifying his former position.

"If I may dare ask," The younger of the two began, hesitance in his words. "You have seen me before?"

"Many times, when you were a pup, yes." The elder Yaut`ja stroked his lower mandibles. "The last was when you went to your chiva. Now I constantly see you at the mercy of the elders."

Dah`je lowered his head, shame slowly etching itself into his face. His father's ideals and reputation passed down on him like a contagious birth defect. So whenever Dah`je spoke of something "blasphemous" or acted in a different way, some of the more anger driven clan mates lashed out. Elder Yyorek was right in that sense: many of the newer generations were rather rash in nature. But that did not excuse all of Dah`je's actions as well.

"You are a good warrior," The elder began. "Smart and compassionate as well. Good attributes to have. But you react too much with anger. You push against a current instead of letting yourself flow with it. There is potential in you but you waste it." Dah`je lowered his head further down. He felt like a scolded child again. "I do not say these things to deter you. Learn from them. Adapt. Like we Yaut`ja always do. Now go," Yyorek motioned towards the patiently waiting council of elders. "They are waiting for you."

~.~

Ta`lon stood patiently outside the council chambers for his son. One by one, warriors exited, a deathly silence having fallen upon them like a sickness. None of them dared to speak or click their mandibles. The berating must've been harsh this time around. Usually afterwards, some of the warriors would chattering, laughing, or grumbling about the elders. There was always life to them. Now there was silence and it unnerved him. In fact, it only made the older Yaut`ja more concerned. What happened inside the domain of the wise?

The trail of warriors stopped after the eighth one. There was still no sign of his son. Ta`lon grumbled to himself, mandibles flaring out in agitation. He was being held late inside again. The elders only did this whenever a situation had gotten too out of control for their tastes. It always ended with a physical punishment inflicted on his spawn, or when they assigned some sort of menial or humiliating task. The last time he was held in for this long was more than thirty cycles ago. And that was after his son nearly killed a clan brother during a sparring match gone haywire. The opponent, enraged by the fact that he was going to lose, pulled out a knife and tried to stab his son. Ta`lon, having seen the footage taken, knew his son was acting out of reflex and self defense. He took the knife and rammed it right into his opponent's chest. Thankfully, the blow was above the heart and broke a clavicle. His son would've been banished if the opponent had died. The opponent, however, received such a punishment for his dishonorable act.

Ta`lon let out a low rumble and folded his arms. The only reason his son suffered sometimes was because of him. Different ideals and a respect for life, even in such an open-minded clan as this one, got one into a lot of trouble and ridicule. Thankfully, some of the higher ranking members, including the clan leader himself, saw wisdom and placed Ta`lon in the Circle of Advisors. His ideals were still looked down upon by many within the clan, despite his high position. His son, who had inadvertently taken on some of his ideals, suffered from the same ridicule. Most of the time, it was why he ended up in the council chambers.

The sound of footsteps reached his ears before the older Yaut`ja saw his son walking out, nursing his cheek and keeping his gaze low. Ta`lon clicked his mandibles a few times in a specific way in order to catch the younger's attention. His son looked up and his expression hardened.

"You don't always have to wait for me, father," His son spat out, gaze lowering in shame.

"I've learned to stop counting after the thirteenth visit. And I've learned to direct my anger towards the actual idiots responsible. But, Dah`je," Ta`lon scoffed before continuing. "Seven fractured bones and twelve broken mandibles? I did not teach you how to take down your enemies by breaking them."

"There were a lot of things you didn't mean to teach but they're still there, in my head, in my skills. Adapt to survive," Dah`je shoved past his father. "That is how the Yaut`ja live, right?"

"...Please don't tell me they're going to-"

"H`ko," Dah`je interjected. "But I am forbidden from hunting or leaving the clanship for a cycle. I must also care for those of whom I've injured until the elders decide otherwise."

Ta`lon let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. For a second, it was as if his son was about to say he was to be banished. Not that the elders haven't threatened to do that before anyways.

"Did they say anything else?"

"H`ko."

"Shall we go now?"

"Sei-i."

Ta`lon clasped his son's shoulder as they left the lobby area. There were few Yaut`ja loitering around the main entrance, which was a high towered frame reaching to about fifteen feet. There were little sounds, save the usual hum of the ship. This area was always quiet. Neither father or son dared to break that silence.

The clanship, as a whole, could house more than two million of their people, a total of 13 levels dividing the ship's interior horizontally. However, nine of those levels were filled with quarry and supplies needed, as well as machinery, reducing the amount of populace to roughly 700,000 hunters and a little more than 100,000 in females and children. The first of the uninhabitable floors was reserved specifically for the elders and clan leader, the second being meant for higher ranking warriors and officials. The third was reserved for the females and children. The fourth level, which was the largest, was dedicated to the other ranges of hunters and warriors.

The fifth and sixth levels was a market and town area, where trade and activities were conducted. The father son duo trekked through this area as quick as they could, aware of some of the looks they received from other hunters. They had to pause a few times when a more friendlier member of the clan greeted them and exchanged a few words with Ta`lon. Each time this happened, he couldn't help but notice his son become uncomfortable as they stood out in the open for too long. The older Yaut`j made it a habit to have short conversations with whomever spoke with him.

By the time they had arrived to Ta`lon's private quarters, Dah`je's face was beginning to bruise slightly. The older Hunter made sure to grab a small ice pack as they entered the spacious room. There was not much to his home. A chair here and there, with a low table for drinks and food. A workspace for when he needed to review and evaluate reports he was sent by the few scientists onboard. A few trinkets and decorations from other worlds were placed here and there. A cot was located in the far corner of the room. Ta`lon lived for the simpler things, as he liked to think.

On the left side of the wall was a few of his most proud trophies, which, in comparison to some of the other hunters his age, were not all that impressive or extravagant. His favorite skull was the one with a snout shaped face, similar to a dinosaur, and small bumps on the back of its skull where it's horns once stood out. The owner of the skull had given him a work over several times during a hunt that lasted roughly a week. Once it was over, Ta`lon made sure to deliver the body of his prey to the family, as well as a ornate knife he collected from a previous world. It was the least he could do in return for a great hunt. Possibly one of his last before committing to the Circle of Advisors completely.

"Where is mother?" Dah`ja asked, breaking the older Yaut`ja from his nostalgia.

"In the female levels," He explained, remembering about that ice pack. "She had to move back there not too long after they determined she was with child."

"Lukta is with her as well?"

"They don't trust me to care for her without a mother nearby. Which is understandable, considering it was Firra who did most of the work," He said as he walked over to the small shelf where he knew his medical things to be. He located the ice pack container and pulled out the cold object. "Speaking of family, I recently got into touch with your older sister during your hunt."

"Jisa?"

"No, Thwei-Sain`ja." Ta`lon handed his son the ice pack, which he out immediately on to his bruised cheek.

"Ah," Dah`je's expression softened immensely. "How is she with her new clan?"

Ta`lon's eldest daughter, a very intelligent female by many standards, had attract much attention from other clans, specifically the more powerful ones. Many times during clan gatherings, multiple suitors would approach him asking for permission to court his daughter. Other times, males went straight for her. It grew worse the older Thwei-Sain`ja became. All his daughter wanted to do was help some of the scientists with improving their technology and addressing certain viruses and diseases that would plague their species.

Seventeen cycles ago, a particularly distinguished clan approached the clan leader asking for Ta`lon's daughter, claiming that they would be able to put her skills and knowledge to better use for the better of their species. Both father and daughter were fuming by some of the bigoted things the representative said right in front of them. But the opportunity was too much to pass. In order to become officially a part of the clan, Thwei-Sain`ja was to become mates with one of the higher ranked hunters. An oblivious meat head, as were the words Dah`je described the hunter with. Ta`lon had to tell himself that his daughter would be safe and happy, regardless of whom she was bounded to.

"She says she misses everyone," He explained, recalling some of the things the audio transmission said. "She also says to reminder you that mating season is arriving and that you need to hurry up and find someone."

"That'll be the day," His son snorted.

"There were other things she said but from the sounds of it, she is doing well. Aside from the fact that her mate desired for children." Which was going to be a problem given how Thwei-Sain`ja was born with an incomplete reproductive system and her heating periods came at random moments rather than the timed seasons many others experienced. "She has expressed her desire to see us all once more."

Dah`je lowered his gaze before softly saying, "I wish the same as well."

Silence stretched on between the two before Ta`lon approached the skulls on his wall, staring at each one of them. It was not common that Yaut`ja would take up learning other species' cultures and societies but it became a hobby for the older hunter. He ended up taking on some of the traditions he learned, as well as quirks he saw. Things that passed on to all his children. Yaut`ja would not often show remorse, nor sadness. They often showed either anger or arrogance, as he has come to see. The more times he thought about, the more he found his race to be barbaric.

He looked at each of the skulls. Each of them he had taken at least aspect of their world into his own life. Aside from their heads and a trinket or two, of course. Ta`lon glanced over to his only son, watching as he paced around in the room. He had something on his mind.

"Speak."

"I have nothing of importance to say," Came the monotone answer of his son.

"Out there, we are simply clan mates separated by ranking. In here, we are family. Speak. I won't tell you again."

"...I am thinking about possibly leaving my position in the clan." Ta`lon whipped around so fast that his dreadlocks struck his skin hard.

"And do what?"

"I do not know. But I am not a proper Hunter, according to many members of the clan."

Ta`lon pinched the skin between his eyes, a quirk he learned from the oomans, and grumbled to himself, mandibles clicking a few times.

"The thoughts and opinions of others do not -should not- reflect on who you chose to be. Haven't I taught this lesson to you before?" He thought more before adding, "Besides, what would you do with yourself then? You do not have enough of a skill to chose another occupation, Dah`je. Not unless you want to be an instructor towards the younger generations." That didn't sound half bad, actually. Provided his son kept his patience in check, this is.

Before Dah`je could say anything on the matter, there was a loud beeping noise. Ta`lon looked over to his work desk, where a holographic screen had popped up, signaling the arrival of an important message. A closer look and he saw how important. It came directly from the clan leader himself.

A/n: So I didn't realize that I had spelled Yaut`ja different from everyone with the little ` mark in it. I had always done that and its never really occurred to me. I swear I think I've seen other fanfic writers do it too... or I was just oblivious to it...

Anyways, filler chapter here, more or less. Aka, the father/son relationship I promised to show. Dah`je is literally the only son and the third child. And his mother is just now pregnant with a fifth child on the way. Dah`ja's parents aren't too concerned with how many kids they can have in their life time. Oh and the skull being described? I was too lazy to come up with a whole new weird race so I used own of my originals (the Higari) and threw it in.

Next chapter may not appear for a long while. Senior project is consuming me as I got Manga Studio to make some comic pages. But I will try to write this story whenever I can. I'm not gonna give up on it! Thanks to those who reviewed, followed, and favorited. They are much appreciated.

Pred out~