Striker: A Name

His arm hurt. The big Flathead hit him with some kind of weapon and now his arm hurt. The female Flathead was much like his bearer. Her alien sounding voice nearly matched tone at times and made him more ready to obey. He still didn't want to trust these…Flatheads. They were prey! But…they were bigger than him and they severely outnumbered him. On top of his physical injury, his ego was yet again crushed. He thought he could take on Flatheads but he'd failed at that dismally. Now he was injured by them and had no choice but to let them do whatever they pleased.

…………………………………

Karin finished the sling and the young creature kept a wary eye on her from behind his mask.

"There you go. Now just hold still and don't use that arm and you'll be fine."

The mask cocked at her and then turned toward the tent door where the other soldiers stood. He gave Rick a baleful stare and snarled nastily.

Rick straightened his stance, "Don't think he likes me."

"No shit Sherlock." Mike muttered shaking his head and striding into the tent to get a better view of their patient. Passively he knelt down in front of the child sized being, resting his M-16 across his knee. The alien watched him intently.

"Well, I'm anxious to see what we've got here." he commented.

"You want him to take the mask off?" Karin asked.

He nodded, "I'm curious yeah."

Since he seemed to trust Karin the most, the medic made a gesture that asked him to remove the mask. Tentatively he reached up to the clasp of the mask with his unafflicted right hand as if unsure.

Karin nodded, "Yes. That's right."

With a quick motion the little creature undid the clasp. Since it bore no technology the pressure hoses were not present. Very cautiously he lowered the mask down away from his face. A uniform gasp escaped the soldiers as well as whispers and curses. Quickly the Predator child put the mask back as if he were scared.

Karin admitted the brief glance was…rather…ugly, but she felt bad for him so gently she said, "It's alright little guy. It's alright."

"Geez! That glance was enough for me." Shayne commented under his breath.

"Maybe…he's scared of our appearances." Karin guessed.

After a moment the little mask lowered again to give the humans a longer look. The slightly large, yellow, predatory eyes darted around nervously and the four tiny clawed mouth mandibles twitched independently. His head was huge, lightly jagged with premature spikes around the crown of his rounded skull, and speckled with bands of green color like the ones on his body. He didn't have a nose or visible ears. Whatever he was…it was FAR from human.

"Shit…can see WHY he wears that mask." Rick grunted.

……………………….

The words meant nothing to the little alien. He couldn't read Flathead expressions anyway so their repulsed looks didn't affect him. They were rather creepy looking creatures with their tiny foreheads, shorter statures (at least compared to an adult Predator), their weird face nostrils, blunt toothed mouths, hairy bodies and heads (well the female wasn't so hairy bodied), and their mushy, pattern-less flesh. How could they stand to look at each other?

………………………

After a moment the little Predator's largish eyes focused on the men nearby and slit harshly. In a second the creature's lower mandibles flared outward in an aggressive 'roar'; which because of his immaturity sounded like a weak growling shriek. In any case, the sudden expression made the soldiers bristle and jump slightly. Slowly the stubby facial appendages returned to their original passive position and an undulated, pulsing chirping vibrated hollowly in the alien's chest, making the smaller upper mandibles twitch quickly.

Mike's jaw dropped slightly, "I'll be damned! That little bastard is laughing at us!"

No one could believe it but the odd sound resembled a laugh. The predatory eyes turned from the men and found Karin. She couldn't deny that he looked pretty ugly, but something about his smallish, child-like stature made the hideousness seem to dim. His eyes, unlike most of his features, were his most 'human' part despite their yellow color and big cat-like quality. They seemed wide and soft…curious. He blinked…almost cutely…and made a tiny clicking rattle that sounded like a cat purr but much sharper.

"Well…you're not much to look at whatever you are. What should we call you?" Karin asked.

Hayes waved his hands slightly, "Oh no. You are NOT going to name that thing! You name it and you get attached to it…even if it has been beaten with a hundred ugly sticks!"

The commander sighed, "Hayes might be right Kar. You know we're going to have to report this to our superiors."

Karin got a look of dread in her eyes, "Sir!"

"Don't say it Lieutenant! We have a duty to perform and our personal feelings are secondary at best. Do you understand?" Mike barked sharply, assuming a more militaristic tone.

"Yes Sir," the field surgeon consenting standing at attention.

Mike turned to his communication officer, a stocky, Hispanic man the men called Gringo; though his real name was Juan. "Get on the horn to command and inform them or our…situation."

Saluting smartly the man turned on his heal and left. The commander looked at the doctor, "Watch him. Private Hayes, you will take first watch with her. The rest of you ready yourselves in case we have to pitch camp. Now move!" Immediately the soldiers scattered to perform their duties.

Karin sighed deeply. She hated to think what might happen to her patient once their superiors got wind of it. Quite frankly she didn't want to think about it. Looking down at her patient she watched him put his mask back on and then look up at her with the glassy eyes.

"Well I don't care. You need a name. At least…for now."

Hayes rolled his eyes outside the medic tent, "Good grief Kar, he ain't a pet." He snickered, "Why don't you call him Leatherface…or Chucky? Jason…Freddy Kruger! Hey I like Kruger! He's got the mug for it."

Karin snorted and rolled her eyes, "That's just mean Hayes."

"Well he sure as Hell ain't no Fluffy or E.T.!" the man retorted.

The surgeon laughed lightly and thought; trying to come of with a name for their patient. "He needs a strong, short name. How about…Striker. I kinda like that."

"I still think Kruger is perfect for him!" Hayes commented.

Karin rolled her eyes and knelt next to the little alien. He was touching the sling supporting his hurt arm as if trying to figure out its function.

Pointing to herself the medic said very slowly, "Kar-in. Kar…in. Karin."

The mask cocked at her curiously and the surgeon kept repeating her name until a raspy imitation came out, "Khh…ar…Khhar…rin," the little creature rasped.

The redhead gasped and Hayes turned, "Did…did he just say 'Karin'?"

"Khhar-in" he repeated again. His voice, though not very pleasant, was understandable.

Excited the medic nodded, "Yes! I'm Karin." Then she pointed at him and said, "Stri…ker. St-ri-ker. Striker."

"Sss…tri…kur." he hissed.

"Yes! You're Striker." Karin praised.

"Sstri-kur." When he uttered the name it came out in a very harsh and sinister sounding hiss. Clearly, he was intelligent and could pick things up rather quickly. The masked face turned toward Hayes who was staring in disbelief from his position in the tent entrance.

Karin pointed to the man, "Hayes… Hayes."

Striker inhaled deeply to say the name, "Hhh-aa-ysss."

"Holy…he just said my name!" the Private stammered.

Striker's gaze roamed around as he repeated the names again in his rasping voice that sounded more like hissing and growling rather than regular speech. Karin beamed because of his astuteness.

"Well Striker…" he looked at her and she couldn't help but smile at his quickness, "Are you hungry?"

He didn't understand the words but Karin was already searching the tent for something.

"I'll bet you a hundred bucks he's not a vegetarian." Hayes stated.

Karin nodded in agreement, "No bet here."

Suddenly, both Marines heard the tell-tale sound of blades unsheathing. Karin whirled fast because she thought Striker might be trying to kill someone again…perhaps even her! Hayes aimed his Uzi at the creature fast but stopped. For the first time the pair realized Striker's right wrist band was indeed a sheath for a dual set of jagged blades that could eject with a precise closing of his little fist! But the deadly wrist blades were not aimed at them. Instead they had a rather sizable lizard stabbed to the ground. The unfortunate reptile must've slinked underneath the tent walls…at the wrong time.

Striker rattled and lifted the dead lizard up, examining his kill with interest. Then he clenched his fist and the blades retracted out of his kill and back into the gauntlet. The dead animal fell in his lap and using his one good arm he took it by the tail and splayed it out, belly up on the cot next to him. Carefully, he traced the edge of his mask and took it off to expose his alien face again.

The two humans watched quietly as the little alien drew a curved edged dagger hidden in a sheath at his ankle. Exactly how many weapons Striker had on him they'd never know, but he seemed to have quite a collection hidden about his person. Using his clawed foot to hold his kill in place the alien leaned over and slit the blade cleanly up the reptile's scaled belly. After achieving this, he skillfully worked the blade next to the rib cage and sliced off a hunk of flesh. Voraciously he clamped his mandibles into the meat and worked it back to his inner jaws. He swallowed it quickly and rattled in a pleased sort of manner.

Hayes held his stomach, "Oh man…that's just…"

Flexing his mouth parts the young hunter sliced off another piece and ate it too. After cutting a third strip of flesh he looked up at Karin and offered the bloody chunk to her. It took a lot of effort for the medic not to gross out completely.

She waved the offering away politely, "No thanks…you go ahead."

Striker seemed to be understanding the word "no" and withdrew the flesh eating it himself.

Karin shrugged at Hayes, "Well…at least we know one thing he likes: raw lizards."

In a few short minutes the lizard was nothing more than a mangled skeleton and a pile of uneaten innards. Striker purred lightly like a cat. He seemed content with a full stomach. Clicking he reached over and snapped the lizard's head off. He examined it a minute and laid it down, using one foot to hold it still while his good hand wielded the dagger again. Fluidly he cut the remaining flesh and tissue away from the skull and threw the waste to the ground. Karin and Hayes watched with fascination at how cleanly he cut the flesh away.

………………………………….

Striker cleaned the skull of the creature he'd just killed. Ever since the day of his birth he'd learned how to wield a dagger in various ways. He was also trained extensively in the ways of hunting and cleaning prey. Of course he'd never killed anything big or substantially significant, just small creatures on the planet. One day when he was grown he'd be expected to take on monstrous kinds of prey…Flatheads included; although Flatheads were typically hunted for leisure or as a first kind of hunt for Young Bloods.

He glanced up from his work at the two Oomans watching him. What were they watching him for? Hadn't they ever seen someone clean a kill before? Such confusing creatures…and yet somewhat familiar. The female Karin resembled his mother in manner and tone. She seemed strong and she was a healer. Something about her made him feel slightly more secure. He glanced at the male he'd tried to kill earlier: Hayes. Striker decided he wasn't so bad but he held a little animosity for his defeat. Being humiliated was not something he enjoyed or tolerated…though he'd received plenty of it. Perhaps his sire was right: hunts were meant for grown warriors. He couldn't even take on his people's physically weakest prey! What kind of hunter was he? Absently he traced the tip of his dagger over the skull's eye socket he was working on. What kind of hunter…?