Dragh'Ar Ghon the Arbiter
Nubian Dragon © 2/2010
-o-o-o-o-Chapter 4-o-o-o-o-
Landing
Blackness speckled by light.
Space
Quiet
Patience
The twin galaxies of Pr'Ehon and Zu'heus, as the yautja knew them, faded in the distance as the arbiter's track and retrieval vessel crossed the vast distance of blackness. Space was a vast nothingness, which looked to be vacuum. To the untrained eye, it looked as if the arbiter's vessel was standing still in space. In reality, the elite sleek customized vessel was traveling at a one-quarter speed of light cruising through alien space.
The arbiter wanted to catch the badblood, would catch the badblood, but he wasn't in a desperate rush. The arbiter's ship's tracking sensors were excellent, and there was no fear of losing his prey. After several months of chasing the criminal in open space the ship had picked up the badblood's trail anew. There was freshness about the trail; a freshness that made the photonic emission particles shine as a beacon, like a trail of breadcrumbs leading the arbiter to the badblood. With the new technology the arbiter's vessel had received during its recent up-grade on the Mothership, the arbiter might be delayed getting to his target, but he didn't think he'd lose the trail of the badblood. The electromagnetic energy from the badblood's vessel overpowered the sensor-tracking array of the arbiter's track and retrieval vessel to the point of moving the arbiter in close proximity to the badblood's vessel without being detected, even with long-range scanners.
The arbiter thrilled to himself knowing he would soon have the criminal, impound his vessel and be headed back to the Clan Ship in less than an eighth of a rotation, maybe even in a couple of dre'eks, weeks.
The blackness following the twin galaxies of Pr'Ehon and Zu'heus in time began to give way to specks of light stars. Soon the blackness was dotted with more stars and the sleek vessel began to move into a hazy river of stars that flowed across the darkness as they churned into a beautifully painted strawberry red gas ocean. The sight was magnificent and breath-taking to see, even with the yautja's thermal vision, although natural vision would have yielded a perfect viewing if it was crisper and defined.
Slowing the ship's approach to the hazy river of stars, to sub-impulse power, the arbiter switched the ship to autopilot and began to record the stellar images of the painted strawberry red gas ocean. Relaxing as his ship began to lazily drift through the capricious space that was on the fringe of the backwater planet's galaxy, the arbiter admired the beauty of the cosmos that surrounded him.
When he came to this part of space over thirty years earlier, he had seen the hazy red river of stars, but had not had the opportunity to enjoy it. With the arbiter it was always work and little time to enjoy the surroundings. Now, he wanted to take a quick breather, an hour or two to enjoy this part of space. If he was able to relax for a moment, then he would be rejuvenated and he would do well with his hunt for the badblood. On this third trip to the backwater planet, he would not only enjoy the superb beauty of the painted gas ocean, but he would capture its three-dimensional splendor in holo so he could get pleasure from viewing the gas ocean at his leisure. Remembering it before it was too late, he sent out forward and rear probes to record the strawberry sea of stars to enhance the three-dimensional holoform he was creating to be used in his sleep chamber.
On the fringes of the backwater planet's galaxy was the only place in his vast travels he'd ever seen such a glorious sight. The red gas ocean was a plethora of grandeur; it was a one-of-a-kind experience and he wanted to preserve the moment in the most gratifying substantial way for himself in holo. Most yautja would care little for the gas ocean or the beauty of space, but the arbiter was different. Yautja hunters lived only for the nain-de and the glory that the hunt would bring. The arbiter, on the other hand saw more in the hunt than killing and trophies, he saw art and poetry; as he used his surroundings to enhance the hunt to bring him untold bounty and gratification.
A couple of ooman hours passed and the arbiter's vessel drifted through the two-hundred billion stars of the hazy strawberry red river of lights that swirled and moved in space. The ship was drifting closer to the blue and green planet's galaxy. The yautja's vessel drifted through a thin ban of black space and then coasted into the galaxy of the blue and green planet.
On sub-impulse power, the vessel drifted. The arbiter was in no apparent hurry at the moment; his lock on the badblood's vessel was firm. If the criminal tried to flee, the arbiter would know and would adjust his craft quickly to re-engage the tracking of the badblood's vessel.
"Such an explosive magnificence, so deliciously beautiful," he whispered to himself as he enjoyed the eye candy of space. Reclining in his pilot's seat, he sighed deeply and found a place on the control panel to relax his large feet. In silence the yautja savored the hushed brilliance of space. He watched as the rhythms of stellar life unfolded before his eyes. His ship drifted through the dark clouds of dust and gas incubating clusters of embryonic stars that seemed to fade out of existence. Stars were born, lived and died before his eyes. They were a spectacular emission of nebulae blazing in fierce radiation of stellar decay. Dying stars bloomed and faded as planetary nebulae ripped themselves apart as micro supernovas that were dazzling and stunning briefly springing to life.
So striking, so serene, so calm, he thought, as he recalled the probes he had sent out earlier. He hoped that the holographic recording of the strawberry sea of stars would be as awe-inspiring in holoform as it was when he initially experienced it. He wanted to enjoy the hazy river of stars completely as he created the three-dimensional holoform for his sleep chamber. He would wait until after he captured the badblood to enjoy his personal indulgence he was carefully creating for himself. The wait would be well worth it and he wanted to take pleasure in every moment of the sea of stars holoform.
Increasing the speed of the vessel to an eighth of impulse power, the arbiter began an automated probe of the alien solar system so he could gather and send any information that showed signs of life on any of the planets in the small solar system. The information would be logged into the central database of his ship's vessel which would in term stream the data to the Mothership or the Clan Ship, whichever was close to his current location. The arbiter's vessel sent out probes to each planet as he approached it. The initial readings were the same readings he had received over thirty years earlier; no life. There was no life, not even microbial life on any of the other planets in the small system, just the expected life on the planet he was headed towards.
"I'll just let them stay until I leave," the arbiter reasoned to himself. There was no harm in letting the probes gather data, he was in no rush and just maybe something might get recorded if they sat still long enough.
After about a half-human hour or so, the arbiter's track and retrieval vessel passed the silent red planet, Mars, and made its way to the dark-side of the blue and green planet's moon. In silence, the yautjan vessel waited for the opportunity to make its approach towards the blue and green backwater planet. The only planet that held life in the small solar system that held a medium-sized sun at its core. The arbiter checked his sensor array and found that the badblood was still on the planet's surface; there were no electromagnetic energy signatures from the badblood's vessel leading away from the planet.
"It is time," the arbiter said to himself as he changed the settings on the ship's piloting system. He made a charted a direct route towards the electromagnetic energy from the badblood's vessel on the planet's surface. There was no need for stealth, there were no indications he should be concerned about anything else but the badblood. He would make sure his vessel wasn't detected by the blood, and he'd land his craft as close as he could.
Slowly, the Arbiter's vessel began to move from behind the dark-side of the backwater planet's moon. Using caution was his best approach; he wasn't sure if the badblood knew that he was tracking him, he didn't want to spook his prey. If the badblood knew of his approach, then the criminal would flee and the arbiter didn't want the badblood escaping when it had taken him longer than he would have liked to track badblood to the backwater planet.
Kwei, the arbiter thought as he mused over this current badblood. The badblood was tricky and had eluded the arbiter on several occasions and on each occasion he was a step ahead of the arbiter. The arbiter trilled at the badblood being a worthy prey. From time-to–time he enjoyed the thrill of a badblood hunt that challenged him. The more time they took, the more satisfying the capture was for the arbiter. With each evasive act of the badblood, the arbiter had learned a little more about his current assignment. He observed how the criminal thought, what he was capable of and what he would possibly do next. The badblood's movements and other notes were added to the file that Dragh'Ar Ghon had created from the beginning of the assignment. He had been chasing the yautja for nearly three earth years, almost a full turn. Three years was a little longer than he would have liked to chase the badblood, but it was an excellent opportunity to learn the mind of another and the arbiter thought that the badblood deserved merit for the chase that he gave. As a hunter, the arbiter prided himself in his knowledge, how he obtained it and how he used it. His knowledge and observation had helped him on numerous occasions and had assisted him in capturing some of the most elusive among the badbloods. Now, he was expanding his knowledge to include a new breed of badblood that his current assignment was proving to be.
Thinking about the badblood's vessel, the arbiter wasn't sure of the craft's technology. There was no outward indicator of whether or not the vessel had long-range or external detection devices. He didn't know if he'd be able to sneak up on the criminal undetected, he didn't know if the badblood had a boost surveillance tracking system on his craft, but he didn't want to take the chance of alerting the badblood of his approach. The arbiter's own vessel had been recently up-graded with technology that would block being scanned by other vessels, especially vessels that had the currently upgraded yautja boost surveillance tracking system. Dragh'Ar Ghon didn't think he'd have a problem locating the badblood's vessel on the planet's surface, but he would use prudence and patience. The two had served him well in the past and he had confidence they would serve him now. He would be patient and capture the badblood the way he has always did, despite the length or pursuit.
Vigilantly the arbiter drew closer to the blue and green planet. He didn't think the oomans had any technology that could detect his ship in the upper atmospheric space of the planet, but his senses told him to be alert. One never knows, he thought as he turned to his gkinmaru, the sensors of a ship, to activate the short-range scanners. Much to the arbiter's surprise, after five minutes of being on, four small red dots appeared on the tracking console screen.
"So the oomans have been busy," he said to himself as he watched the small red dots blipped in and out of sight against the blackness of the console's screen. "We'll just have to see what you pyode amedha have been up to in the last thirty years," he commented as he sent out four recon-intelligence probes to investigate what the four blips on his screen were. The blips in space were of minor concern to him; he would collect the probes once he collected the badblood. The arbiter was curious as to what gains the oomans has made in one hundred and twenty of their years. That was the last time any yautja had official permission to go to the planet. One hundred and twenty years ago he had collected his last badblood from the planet.
About thirty minutes had passed and the arbiter decided it was time to land on the planet's surface. He had checked the tracking of the badblood's vessel and it had shown that he criminal was still located in the northwestern hemisphere of the planet. Time to collect you, Roah' Saun, the arbiter thought as he prepared to make his descent. On the forward screen of the ship, the arbiter saw the blackness of space give way to the white mist of the planet's upper atmosphere the transition from space made him think about the red dots on the tracking console screen. Thinking about the blips, he had seen earlier, he wondered what type of technology the pyode amedha had advanced to since last he had been on the backwater planet. What kind of surprises you will yield, ooman, he thought as he smiled with his mandibles opening and slightly twitching.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~
The arbiter's track and retrieval vessel streamlined through the planet's upper atmosphere on sub-impulse power as it cut through the very thin layer of the planet's exosphere like a knife slicing through butter. Only briefly did the arbiter's vessel glide through the region of the atmosphere where atoms and molecules escape into space. Entering the exosphere of the planet was like breaking the surface of a pond. Smoothly the yautjan vessel continued as it pierced through the low air density of the planet's thermosphere, so far so good. All was well and the arbiter didn't have to cloak his vessel.
The time was at hand and the hunt for the badblood would be over. He had made great time tracking the criminal even though he had lost the badblood on two occasions. There was no fear of losing his prey because the technologically enhanced yautja vessel was quite capable of giving the arbiter the range and equipment he needed to be successful.
Hunting, he thought as he thrilled at the idea. It had been a while since he lasted hunted and what better place to hunt than on one of the rarely used chiva planets of his people.
The yautja's mind began to think about his return to the blue and green backwater planet along with the new things he would experience on his recreational hunt. Now, the arbiter was past the need to gather trophies to attract females. As a youngblood he had made collecting a game for seduction. A game that he became expert at when he was newly blooded up until the time he became honored. He knew of all the prime hunting grounds and he also had some planets to hunt on that were exclusive to him. His exotic trophies and the scars that he had gained to get the trophy always attracted the more premier females for mating to him. And like always the strongest female that was left standing became his mate.
"Ahhh…" he began as he checked the readings on the gkinmaru, the sensors on his ship, monitoring the badblood's location, "…work before pleasure." This meant he had to capture and deliver the badblood before he could seriously think and plan a trip for hunting oomans.
"Maybe these oomans have not advanced as I had suspected," Dragh'Ar Ghon mused to himself as his ship passed through the third layer of the planet's atmosphere.
As his vessel began its descent in to the planet's third level of atmosphere, the mesosphere, the arbiter engaged the external dampers on the ship so they could initiate the protective shield on the ship and protect the vessel from burning and exploding in this layer of the planet's atmosphere. Although the planet was backwater, it was endowed with ways of naturally protecting itself from any threats that would ignorantly try to land on it.
Almost there, he thought as his vessel continued to descend.
When the yautjan vessel reached twenty kilometers from the planet's surface, the arbiter received a rude awakening. "Pauk!" the arbiter swore loudly as he heard something explode against the hull of his ship.
"What the hell is going on?" he roared as another explosion hit the side of his ship. Reaching for the ship's console, he turned on the main view screen.
Much to his surprise he was flanked by alien crafts. "So, you backwater pauks can fly," the arbiter, growled as he cloaked his vessel.
A third explosion slammed into the rear of his craft.
"So, I am surrounded," he said as he opened the ship's Data' Shon'de scanners so he could inspect his immediate surroundings. The scanners would allow several thermal ground-tracking techniques to be used so the yautja could bypass any radar tracking that could be jammed by the oomans. As he scanned to see how he was surrounded, the arbiter prepared to send out small pebbles recon nascence probes the size of a golf ball to attach themselves to the alien crafts. "We'll have to see exactly what you are," he said once he got a count of seven crafts that were surrounding him.
Hitting the send-all lever for the seven probes, the arbiter thrilled in laughter as he accelerated his craft forward making a sixty-degree angled turn that propelled him upward into space. Protecting his vessel as it quickly cut through all four layers of the planet's atmosphere, the arbiter roared excitedly. "And so the oomans have evolved!"
~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Charlie, Alpha, Tango… Charlie, Alpha, Tango… the primary shift dispatch officer said over the broadband stellar communication uplink in surprise as he watched the Western Coastal Meteorological Defense Surveillance tracking grid in disbelief.
All fourteen members of the morning surveillance team watched the unbelievable spectacle on the wall-sized grid screen in front of them. Obviously this was not a test or a drill because they could see their commander was upset and knew as much as they did what was happening.
There was no response for the craft.
The primary dispatch officer was trying to make contact with the vessel that had suddenly appeared in US aerospace. Like magic it appeared to just pop up in the earth's mid-stratosphere. From nowhere the craft had appeared and the dispatch officer didn't know what to think so he executed the basic initial communication procedure to see if the craft was friendly, and would engage in contact.
"What the fuck is that," the senior communications officer said as she too watched the large screen of the Meteorological Defense Surveillance tracking grid. She went quiet as her eyes watched the red blip on the grid descend as if it were on a leisurely drive in the countryside.
The techs began to mumble among themselves, but no one offered an explanation for the lone dot that moved across the surveillance grid.
Whatever it was, it didn't seem as if it were in a hurry and it seemed to be very much in control of what it was doing and where it was going. It was getting closer to the eastern coast of the United States.
"I don't know sir. It's non-responsive; and whatever it is, it's coming straight towards the east coast. It looks like it's making a beeline for Virginia or the DC area, if my calculations are correct," the junior officer said as he continued to stare at the Defense Surveillance tracking grid in disbelief. "I'm not sure if it came from space or if it was launched from earth, sir, but where ever it came from it just popped up on the grid without warning."
The commander of the West Coast Meteorological Defense Surveillance System groaned softly in agitation. She didn't like when things, just happened, nothing just happened. There was a beginning and end to everything and she was determined to find either or both for this new anomaly that had the nerve to suddenly appear in her aerospace while she was on duty.
"Get the East Coast Meteorological Defense Surveillance on the Greenline," the female said, agitated at being thrown into a sudden ignorance. "I want to speak directly to General Welsh. I only want to speak to him, no one else," the female barked as she peered closer at the tracking grid watching the single red dot continued to move across the grid on a specific trajectory.
A couple of the techs lingered too long at the grid and were immediately snapped out of their daze when they heard their superior clear her throat loudly with a "don't you have something to do", sound. Satisfied that her team was back at their workstations and working to decipher what the anomaly on the grid was, she turned her attention back to the primary shift dispatch officer.
"Will do sir," the junior officer responded as he snapped to his superior's order. This was exciting for the young man, they probably had made contact with extraterrestrial life and he was the first to discover it. His mind was changed now from wanting to leave his post early. He could spend time with his girlfriend later; now, he wanted to know what had just paid a visit to earth.
"How long have you've been tracking this?" the female asked turning to the primary shift dispatch officer who was staring at the Meteorological Defense Surveillance grid as he began to put the Greenline call in to the East Coast Meteorological Defense Surveillance Station.
Making sure they stayed focused on their different tasks, the techs tried to make themselves invisible as they watched the tracking grid. They didn't want any unnecessary attention drawn to themselves by their commander. They wanted to be a part of what was happening, but they didn't want their superior's irritation to be rekindled. The uncompromising woman had not recovered from her foul mood of having to face an unscheduled audit of the facility at the beginning of week.
"It's been about seven minutes now, sir," the dispatcher said, "… at first I wasn't sure of what I saw until I tracked the movement for a couple of minutes." The dispatcher wanted to be sure he was seeing what he thought he saw before the thing was brought to attention of his superior. He didn't want any false alarms, false alarms meant firing. There was no room for incompetence in the Meteorological Defense Surveillance System.
Seven minutes, the woman mused as she wanted to lash out at her subordinate, but she couldn't because the man was doing his job. She could respect him wanting to do the right thing and make sure there were no mistakes. She could respect him, but it did nothing to change the fact that she didn't know who or what was getting closer to the country's capital area.
"General Welsh is on the Greenline sir," the male said as he looked at his superior officer. He got up and gave his headset to the woman as he walked back to his tracking station and got his spare headset and connected to the communication's port in front of him.
"Is the comlink open?" the woman asked the male as she continued to watch the grid.
"Link open sir," the male replied as he affixed his eyes back to the large screen in front of him. He smiled in triumph as he watched the red dot continued on the course he had predicted it would travel; the non-responsive craft was flying towards the nation's capital.
"Mr. Tate, continue your attempt to make contact with the non-responsive craft," the female said as she turned her attentions to the Greenline call her subordinate had made for her.
"Yes sir," Tate said eagerly wanting desperately to make first contact with the non-responsive craft; he was sure it was alien.
"General Welsh, we have tracked a non-responsive craft descending in the atmosphere over the east coast. Several attempts have been made to contact the craft, but as of this moment there has been no response," the female said as she walked away from Tate who had quickly turned his attention away from her and back to the tracking grid.
There was a silence on the other end and the female waited for General Welsh to respond.
"General Welsh," the woman repeated the name of her senior counterpart on the east coast. "General, are you tracking this?" the woman asked knowing that the East Coast Meteorological Defense Surveillance Station was doing the same surveillance and tracking they were doing on the west coast.
"Yes, Colonel Scott," a deep grandfatherly voice began, and the woman visually relaxed. "We've started tracking about five minutes ago when it came up on our grid," the man continued as if he was giving the sudden phenomenon great thought.
The woman looked at her time piece at her wrist; we're six minutes ahead of you, she thought knowing that the West Coast Meteorological Defense Surveillance Station had seen the non-responsive craft a solid six minutes before it was tracked on the east coast.
"It's non-responsive," Colonel Scott began, "…tried to make contact, but it was a negative."
"No contact as of yet," General Welsh said with concern creeping in his voice.
"Do you think it's Russian Federation?" Colonel Scott asked as she saw the red dot on the grid draw closer to the nation's capital
"Not sure, haven't seen anything like it, we've been hailing it in all known languages, but no response as of yet," the General said knowing the non-responsive craft was an aggressor and force would be used.
"Do you have a Defense Surveillance strike force in the air, General?" Colonel Scott asked; also knowing the non-responsive craft had proved itself to be aggressive because of its failure to communicate. She knew she would have to ready the West Coast Defense Surveillance strike force if the aggressor moved off range of the east coast or anywhere near the central part of the country.
"The strike force should be intercepting the craft in about five minutes," the General confirmed.
Colonel Scott nodded her head in agreement with the General. It was better to shoot first and ask questions later, especially if you tried talking already. "What level of security alert are we on?" she asked knowing that there was a primary security alert level that was mandated to be issued by the senior office of the Meteorological Defense Surveillance System and he was that senior officer.
"We should know something soon, Colonel," the General said not wanting to speak hastily or make a hasty decision.
The Colonel also knew that prudence was needed by the General because he would be making a decision that would impact not just his department, but the entire country and possibly the entire planet. He didn't want to get the government in an uproar over nothing; he would make the necessary decisions assessing the situation as it developed.
"Keep me posted. Let me know if the vessel is fired upon, General," Colonel Scott said as she went over to her primary shift dispatch officer to give him back his headset. It was time for her to act in concert with her east coast counterpart so they could successfully control and contain the potential threat to the national security of the United States. "We're expanding our Defense Surveillance on the west coast and readying our attack force; we'll be ready if the non-responsive craft changes its current trajectory."
There was a silence on the other end of the line and Colonel Scott waited for General Welsh to respond.
"The non-responsive craft has been fired upon," the General said finally.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~
The sudden retreat to the dark-side of the planet's moon was hasty but necessary. Dragh'Ar Ghon had under estimated the oomans, had thought them to be still crawling around in the mud and cowering to yautja, but they weren't. They had achieved flight and had challenged him on their terms. The soft meats had attacked him and chased him from their planet. Although he had thrilled at the thought of hunting the oomans, he knew he had not come to the backwater planet to hunt ooman, but rather badblood.
There will be time for hunting, he thought as he returned his craft to sub-impulse power and waft in silence on the dark-side of the moon.
He would return to earth and he would hunt ooman, soon enough, but for now he had to see what he was up against and how he would get to the surface of the planet undetected by both the badblood and the oomans.
Calling back the probes he had dispatched prior to entering the planet's atmosphere, the arbiter began to search the data that had already been downloaded into his ship's central database. As he sifted through the information, he saw that the oomans had been very busy since he had last been on the planet. From what he could gather from the vast amount of information that was collected in such a short period of time, the oomans had advanced. The information showed that the oomans had gone through several sporadic moments of growth and development in different areas of their civilization. From what he could see, the pyode amedha were currently in a technological stage of growth. This would account for them being able to surround and attack him in the air.
In a matter of thirty of their earth years, they had created, developed, built and maintained a planetary means of communication. The ooman's mode of communication wasn't the most sophisticated way to communicate, but he knew their simple success, should be counted as something. Time pass and he continued to study portions of information from the probe that would prove useful when he returned to the surface.
His efforts of studying the advances of the oomans lasted half-day of orbit just on the dark-side of the planet's moon. After taking in all the pertinent information that would be helpful to him, the arbiter devised a plan that would allow him to descend on the planet's surface undetected. He needed stealth now that his element of surprise was taken away, and he had the perfect plan that would make him successful.
Learning from his first attempt to land on the planet, the arbiter chose an indirect route to the northwestern hemisphere of the planet. He would enter the planet's atmosphere from the southeastern hemisphere targeting the largest continent in that region of the planet. When he scanned the area he couldn't detect any sophisticated aerial detection devices; which meant the area had less in terms of sensors and probes that could detect the movement or approach of his vessel. He would sneak in the backdoor and quietly go where he needed to go and no one would be the wiser.
Once the arbiter had successfully piloted his vessel to the lowest atmospheric level of the planet, he maintained the ship's cloak and opened the vessel's sensors to a wide-medium range of scan so he could be proactive rather than reactive. He wanted to be prepared for any encounters with the oomans. It is his intent to avoid them if he could. His task was hunting the badblood, not engaging the oomans in the hunt. If by chance he encountered the oomans and engagement has the only option, he would make sure was no evidence of the encounter left behind.
Checking the ship's recon-surveillance tracking system as he approached the northwestern landmass that was his prime landing sight, he wanted to know beforehand that there would be no problem with the general landing area. Confirming all was safe, the arbiter typed in the coordinates for landing his vessel; Latitude: 37° 10'N to 40° 40'N – Longitude: 77° 40'W to 82° 40' W. This was on the eastern coast of the large continent in the northwestern hemisphere. The landing coordinates corresponded with the Appalachian mountains of West Virginia. Although the landing site was not exactly where the badblood was, it was close enough that the arbiter could manage the trek to his final destination.
Using the planet's natural geography, elements and weather to aid him in his stealth landing on the planet's surface, the arbiter hovers over the ocean's surface. As the yautjan vessel hovers over the Atlantic Ocean and waits for the cover of guan, night, the arbiter's vessel remains cloaked. The night would be the only successful option the arbiter had if he had intentions of getting to his intended location on land. If they couldn't see his ship, then they couldn't interfere with what he was doing. He wondered if the badblood had had as much of a problem as he did trying to land on the planet's surface.
Time passed and darkness fell.
Checking his sensors to monitor the position of the criminal's vessel, the arbiter was satisfied that the badblood had not moved. "The criminal must be planning something, maybe hunting in a well populated area…" the arbiter said to himself as he told the computer of his ship to search for an acceptable landing spot. It was clear to the arbiter that the badblood had come to the planet to do some unauthorized hunting, which meant he had broken Yautja Code.
The most feasible place to land and camouflage the yautjan vessel was in a remote place about thirteen hundred meters from the tip of the highest peak of the mountain range that ran south easterly in a diagonal direction in the Appalachian mountains. This place was isolated and rarely used by humans. Because its isolation, it was difficult to get to and had thick vegetation surrounding it. Prefect, he thought thrilling at the location, the arbiter was pleased with the computer's selection. The natural foliage of the area was thick and he was glad that only a few trees had been downed to make the landing a success. This will be the primary site for now, he thought as he readied himself and made sure that his vessel would be properly cloaked while it was in hibernation mode.
After sending out probes to gather information in a five mile radius of his vessel's location and checking the stability of the surface that the ship rested on, the arbiter decided to start the hunt for his badblood prey. The most recent coordinates for the badblood's vessel placed the criminal about a little over one hundred miles from his current location to the south east of the ship's current location. The only land area after the badblood's ship location was about a couple of miles of land then the water of the planet was after that.
Satisfied with what he had to do, Dragh'Ar Ghon typed in the command on his wrist console which put his vessel on remote-autopilot so he could call the vessel to come to him when he is ready for it to leave its current location. The arbiter checked his awu'asa to make sure he had everything that he needed for retrieval of the badblood, he wore full gold awu'asa, but he took lightweight weapons instead of selecting his plasma caster. The method of retrieval was sedation, first, but force if necessary, so he made sure he had enough darts filled with enough sedative to take down the full-grown yautja. He dressed with just enough weapons and accessories; he also donned the Whu'tang active camouflage prototype, a new cloaking device he had the honors of testing. Just enough gear to do the job, there was no need for overkill; less was more for the arbiter. Sensing that this would be no simple retrieval, the arbiter added a couple of extra refills of breathing mixtures incase he was gone from his vessel a little longer than he had expected.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Under the cover of night he moved. The arbiter was in close enough range that he could follow the silent remote homing signal embedded in the metal hull of the badblood's vessel. The homing signal was a unique sonar signature that was assigned to each yautja-made vessel. The sonar flakes were embedded during the vessels construction. They were a security device that was used only by the Arbitrator system as a means of securing yautja technology, should a vessel ever become lost. The only groups that were privy to the existence of such a tracking device for vessels were the Yautja Builder clan and the Yautja Arbitrator system.
"Soon, I shall set upon you, Roah' Saun," the arbiter said growing tired of the cat and mouse chase. The badblood had made him risk detection, well… that could be his own fault for under estimating the oomans; but the arbiter was able to salvage the situation and reduce any damage that had been done. The careless detection had occurred because the badblood had chose to go to the off-limits planet to hunt. The arbiter's quick thinking and resourcefulness had made him successful at losing the slow oomans and giving him an opportunity to gather intelligence on them.
As he moved on foot towards the state of Virginia in the direction of the beacon's homing signal, the arbiter laid down a trail. The yautja began to leave markings for his return route so he could easily find his way back to his vessel if he was not able to remotely call his ship to him. Every two miles, or so, he would leave a small transmitting device about the size of an American quarter embedded in a tree or a solid surface that would hold or encase it. With his helm he would be able to easily detect the markings as he approached and passed them. The sonar transmitters were self-contained in that they would function as needed and self-destruct on the arbiter's command.
Every twenty-five to thirty miles, the arbiter would search for a large secluded clearing and place seven temporary micro docking points marking for an alternate site of landing where he could call his cloaked ship to perch. As an alternate plan of retreat he could summon his vessel to the location while it was in autopilot mode; it would make his escape less complicated. All this would come in time when needed by the arbiter. Over the years of tracking badbloods Dragh'Ar Ghon found that having enough viable retreat routes was the best defense for any offense that could be countered. Always have a way out, he mused in his head as he continued to draw closer to his badblood target.
Three-quarters of a score hour, eight earth hours, passed and the arbiter had come within a one-mile radius of the badblood, under the cover of night. Before he arrived in the vicinity of the badblood's location, he had marked six alternate landing sites for his track and retrieval vessel.
Pleased with the excellent time he made getting to the badblood, Dragh'Ar Ghon attributed his speed and agility to the fact that he keeps himself in peak condition by running climbing, and swimming, the arbiter trilled with satisfaction. He was in his prime and he still moved like a youngblood, the only difference between himself and a youngblood was that he was wiser. A rumble of approval resonated deep in his chest; in order to do his job, he had to be in top physical condition and form. There was no backup, no one to rely on, just the arbiter and his experience. He couldn't let anything get in the way of his success; he had to be better than the criminal he was chasing, or he would fail and he never failed.
Observe and avoid, the arbiter thought as he approached what looked to the beginning of a heavily populated ooman area. The thirst of the hunt was calling him, but he ignored it. Work before pleasure, he reminded himself. The alien surroundings were coming alive and so was his huntlust. "Focus," Dragh'Ar Ghon said as a reprimand. He was an honored warrior and an arbiter, not some impulsive youngblood who needed to hunt for glory or hunting to build a fledgling trophy collection.
As he approached what looked to be some sort of dwelling, the arbiter slowed his pace deliberate and checked his wrist console to see if the badblood had moved his vessel. The vessel still had not moved even after over a score of hours of being in the same place; the arbiter was glad for this. If the yautja decided to move suddenly, then the arbiter's plans for tracking and capture would be ruined. He always asked Paya to give luck to his side when he tracked badbloods. There were moments when only Paya could do what needed to be done, things he could not do to make him successful.
"So a hunt is what you've come for, Roah' Saun," the arbiter whispered as he turned off the three-dimensional projection from his wrist console. This was the reason the badblood had not fled the planet as of yet he would be doing some hunting, but for what? It was evident to the arbiter that the badblood was not aware of his presence on the planet, or he would have left hours ago. The hunt did have the makings to quench a yautja's thirst to hunt, but the badblood didn't seem to be stupid enough to risk capture for a few skulls. "Who is your prey, Roah' Saun," the arbiter said to the badblood who was not around to answer.
Taking a moment to peer into the window of the ooman dwelling, the arbiter saw a small group of oomans of different sizes and ages. It looked as if there were half-score, six, oomans and they were sitting in front of a broad flat screen that was mounted on one of the walls in the large room of the dwelling. The broad flat screen had images of oomans talking, laughing and doing things on it. So primitive, he thought as he moved away from the dwelling.
Although the oomans dressed differently than they had one hundred and twenty of their years earlier and now lived in different dwellings, they were still the same, weak and useless. Maybe not all of them, came a thought. There were those oomans who had attacked him in the sky. Those oomans seemed to be progressive, despite the fact they were still pathetic. They had no air superiority, yet they had the blessing of Paya on them because he had not come to their planet to hunt them. Had it not been for the fact he was hunting the badblood, he would have destroyed all seven of the air vessels that attacked him. He would have destroyed them in the sky and there would not have been a trace left of them. They would have learned the lesson of respecting who and what he was; yautja and arbiter.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Deeper Dragh'Ar Ghon moved into the populated setting and the area began to come alive with noise, lights, smells and activity. "Must find the ship," the arbiter said knowing that time was running out and the light of day for the planet would soon be coming. He had to find the badblood's vessel so he could create a tracking link to the badblood's helm. This connection to the criminal's helm would be fed through his ship's computer so the criminal could be tracked remotely by the arbiter.
As he moved closer to the badblood's ship, the arbiter sent out mini intelligence gathering probes in the immediate area to gain additional information on the oomans. The oomans had definitely advanced since last he was on the planet and he knew the council would want to know as much as they could about the pyode amedhas' development while being left to themselves. He was sure that after they received his thorough report, they would decide the oomans had become worthy prey and would allow more hunting to take place on the planet. The easing of hunting restriction to the planet may in fact quench the thirst of hunters so they would not break Code and become badblood. There was no doubt the pyode amedha had evolved to be worthy, he had gotten a firsthand sampling with the surprised aerial attack which would also be included in his report to the Grand Arbiter as well as the Council of Elders.
Finally, the arbiter arrived at the source of the homing device's signal, which was embedded in the structure of the badblood's vessel. The yautjan vessel was on the east side of the ooman's city, cloaked and secure. It rested quietly in what looked to be an abandoned construction site that appeared to be properly secured. To the naked eye, the sight looked derelict and deserted, but with his helm, the arbiter could see clearly the small yautjan vessel. The small craft was about the size of two elongated ooman transports that ferried many short distances on a prescribed route of travel, city bus, that were attached end-to-end. The height of the vessel was about three of the buses stacked horizontally on top of each other. Immediately he did a scan of the ship to see if the yautja was inside. Much to his dismay, the badblood was not on the ship nor was he anywhere in the vicinity. The arbiter let out a restrained groan, now he would have to work a little harder to find his target.
"Chu'khah," the arbiter whispered to himself knowing the craft wasn't something that was owned by a common blooded hunter. The vessel was expensive and only someone of honored status; an elder or a member of the High Council owned such a craft. From what the arbiter could discern of Roah' Saun, the yautja, had not reached honored status so he must be the offspring of an elder or a member of the High Council.
Pauking brat, the older yautja thought, that's why I can't bring your head back, your sire or bearer is protecting you. Dragh'Ar Ghon didn't like it when the pups of those with power received leniency, it wasn't right. A badblood was a badblood as far as he was concerned, which meant there would be no discrepancy in the law.
The arbiter had explicit orders from the Grand Arbiter of his clan to bring back the badblood alive. After years of chasing the criminal and requesting an amendment to his track and retrieval orders, Dragh'Ar Ghon finally knew why the amendment was denied. It would have been so easy to execute the criminal, but instead he had to handle the badblood with tactful hands.
Looking up at the barbed wire at the top of the fenced area, the arbiter tried to gauge how high the fencing was. About twenty-five noks, he thought to himself as he looked for a safe place to enter the enclosed area. Not seeing what he was looking for, the arbiter moved several yards away from the fence and gave himself a running start. At the right moment, the arbiter leapt over thirty feet from the ground as he bounded over the top of the barbed wire clearing the fence with ease. Quietly with the stealth of a ninja, the yautja landed on one knee.
Once on the other side of the fence, the arbiter cloaked and walked to the ship. He typed in several codes into his wrist console and up-linked to the badblood's computer hacking it with the master code used by arbiters. Within several minutes he had gotten a lock on the badblood's location.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~
The dawn of the new morning began to rise and the arbiter stirred in his resting on the rooftop of one of the buildings not far from the badblood's vessel. He wanted to stay close to the cloaked ship in case the criminal returned, but he didn't want to be too close that he would be spotted.
From his secure perch on the building's rooftop, the arbiter was able to rest. He had expended a lot of energy to make his trek from his vessel to the badblood's vessel and now he needed rest a bit. Before closing his eyes to enjoy his time in rest, the arbiter activated his early warning detection system in his helm that would alert him to the badblood's presence within one thousand noks of him. Satisfied and cloaked, the arbiter began to rest.
Allowing himself to take rest in the open, would let the sun of the planet to replenish the micro energy filament cells contained in the Whu'tang active camouflage. The cloaking device contained thousands of micro panels that converted solar rays into energy to power the camouflage. As the cloak regenerated itself, it warmed the hunter. The glowing sun bathed the arbiter in delight as he basked in its radiance.
Several ooman hours passed and the arbiter finished his rest. The backwater planet's sun was now sitting high in its blue sky and it reminded the arbiter of his home world. Reminded him of how in his youth, he would bask in the high branches of his family's tree dwelling and drink up the rays of the planet's twin suns. There were times when he would stay in the treetops far longer than he should, enjoying both suns; later he'd pay for his greed with excruciating sunburn. Now, the ooman's planet's single sun did not have the strength of half of one of the suns on his home world, but the warmth felt good on his hide. I could learn to like this, the arbiter thought to himself as he permitted his mind and senses to adjust to the alien surroundings.
Ironically, like the dawn of a new day, the surroundings came to life. The sounds of life in the ooman city rose up from the lower levels and startled him. Let him know that he was not of the peaceful yet dangerous planet of his birth, nor did it remind him of the precariousness of the Mothership or the Clan Ship; it was indeed a strange place. The backwater planet was stranger even than he had remembered it one hundred and twenty ooman years ago. The arbiter mused lightly at the thought and thanked Paya for the opportunity to rejuvenate; now, he was ready to hunt the badblood.
Letting out a low growl when he heard the silent alarm for the badblood in his helm activate; Dragh'Ar Ghon knew it was back to work. The badblood was on the move and was near. Pausing, he switched his helm's vision to the tracking mode to get a visual fix on the badblood. The yautja was moving away from the cloaked vessel. Pauk, the arbiter thought. The shifty badblood had slipped past him and entered his vessel, left the vessel and was now on a rooftop that was about a score building away. The arbiter crept closer closing the distance between them to half-a-score buildings. Now, vigilant and silent, the arbiter waited for the criminal to make his move.
A couple of ooman hours later, the arbiter realized the badblood was waiting for the cover of guan to hunt. The arbiter would also wait for the cover of night to capture the badblood. Waiting for darkness would lead to less eyes seeing and knowing that yautja existed.
Zooming in his visual mode in his helm, the arbiter gasped as he watched the badblood leap to the next building and climb down its side and go through a window that was on the seventeenth level. Moving closer, the arbiter switched the vision on his helm to x-ray to see what was inside the room the badblood had entered.
In horror, the arbiter caught his breath when he saw a smaller form also in the room. The form was ooman and definitely female. He let out a low growl as he watched the badblood move towards the female as she collapsed; the yautja caught her before she hit the ground.
A deep growl resonated in his chest while his mandibles clicked in an agitated fashion behind his helm as his chest rose in anger. "Pauking idiot," he said as he landed on the next building and then moved to the one that the badblood had been waiting on before he went into the female's dwelling.
He hoped the yautja was not so stupid as to add Mating with the Unworthy, to his crimes against the Code. If the yautja had done this thing, then there would be no mercy for him; and under the Code, his sir or bearer's request for honored consideration was moot. He would die the death and only his head would be brought to the Council. It would be unfortunate, but the female would die also. He could not, would not risk the badblood leaving his seed to grow inside the female. The arbiter hated killing the innocent, but there was no innocent in the code of Mating with the Unworthy. Those involved, willing or not suffered the same fate. This part of the Code he did not like, but the Code was not for him to like, but to enforce.
"I will watch and see," he said, giving mercy to the ooman.
He didn't want to jump to any conclusion; acting without any proof lead to costly mistakes. Over time, the arbiter had learned to be prudent and patient, this was unusual for a yautja, but time and reason had seasoned him. His prudence and patience, allowed his wisdom to guide him in the turn of events while he chose the best method of handling the delicate situation. Watching the badblood's action with the visor's x-ray setting, the arbiter watched the yautja as he laid the female on some type of surface that was raised from the ground. He watched as the badblood moved away from the female noticing that she did not stir. She must be unconscious, the arbiter assumed; then he took his attention back to the badblood. He watched the badblood as he moved to a certain spot in the room and stared at a place on the wall for a period of time. About half an ooman hour passed and the badblood climbed out the female's window and then scaled to the top of the building and started to jump from building to building.
"C'jit!" the arbiter swore.
The badblood was on the move and he had to make a choice. He could follow the badblood and capture him now or he could check on the female and see if the badblood broke the code of Mating with the Unworthy. He decided to check the female and then catch up with the badblood.
Once inside the female's dwelling, he had discovered she was indeed unconscious, he checked the female's body to see if there were any injuries, but none were present. All he could see was a tiny prick and a trickle of blood running down the ooman's neck. He turned on the thermal vision in his helm and viewed the abdomen of the female. Satisfied there was no heat signature in the female's abdomen, the arbiter turned to the wall to see what had held the badblood's attention. "Ahhh," he said to himself looking at the broad flat screen, "…some sort of communication device," he reasoned. On the flat screen the arbiter saw many oomans that looked to be at some type of festive gathering. The oomans had the look of importance about them and he could see that they were surrounded by other oomans that carried weapons.
After seeing the sight, the arbiter let out a low growl and pushed his huntlust away.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~
From rooftop to rooftop the arbiter leapt, taking up his chase of the badblood making sure to stay at least three buildings behind the criminal. So far during the pursuit, the criminal only turned occasionally to survey the surroundings behind him. On one such occasion, the arbiter was standing on a rooftop three buildings behind the badblood in plain sight. The arbiter froze in his tracks, remembering how the cloaking device worked. The arbiter watched as the badblood's eyes roved over him, but did not see him. The Whu'tang active camouflage, a new modified prototype active camouflage had shielded the arbiter from the badblood's view. It was strong enough to deflect even the newest technology of sensor implants in helms for tracking. So far this was the only cloak of its kind and the arbiter wanted it to be well worth the research and construction given to it.
Thank Paya, the cloaking device is working, the arbiter thought as the badblood started his running again. The yautja scientist said that the whu'tang is designed so not even yautja helms could read the wearer's heat signature or see the wearer provided the wearer remained perfectly still, the arbiter thought remembering the briefing he had received on the cloaking device. The new cloaking device was designed to render the wearer virtually invisible to all yautja visual modes. The light bending mechanism in the camouflage not only bends the reflexive light creating invisibility, but it solidifies a wall around the wearer so shimmers and ripples are not produced to outline the wearers form. So far the prototype was doing what it was designed to do and the arbiter was pleased.
Turning to resume his sprint to his intended destination, Roah' Saun, the badblood did not notice the arbiter had been standing clearly in front of him. His stealth made him feel secure even though something kept him alert to his surroundings. His eyes and helm had told him nothing was afoot, but his senses said otherwise. It had been while since his rebellion against both his bearer and his sire; he had not encountered even one arbiter from the Clan Ship or the Mothership. Because he had no encounter, his confidence was high. He felt free to continue his rebellious rampage and do what he wanted. There would be no consequences; on the backwater planet he would hunt as he pleased and to hell with the Code.
Watching the badblood leap to several buildings before he decided to take up the chase again, the arbiter jumped silently to the next building. The yautja moved cautiously keeping the criminal in his sites. The arbiter noticed the badblood seemed suspicious, but there was also confidence in the way the younger yautja moved, like he was challenging.
The dusk of night was beginning to fall and Dragh'Ar Ghon could hear the ooman city start to come alive. The sounds were everywhere. The sounds of the night were different from those of the day, it was as if the place had been asleep and now it was waking from its slumber. Sharp piercing sounds could be heard beneath him on the ground below and in the distance. Alien and unnatural sounds screeched and screamed coming from different directions. The noise called to him, wanted him to investigate them, but he had the badblood to retrieve first. Work before pleasure, he reminded himself again for the umpteenth time. The draw of the hunt was strong, but his work always came first. The noise continued to rise around him, but he blocked it out. How can these creatures live like this, the arbiter thought as he watched the badblood land on a rooftop four buildings in front of him?
In addition to the sound, there was an increase in movement among the oomans. Several streets to the arbiters left and a block behind him, the arbiter zoomed his vision on his helm to see a commotion was going on behind a building that seemed to be deserted. From what he saw, several oomans were wielding hand held weapons and fighting with each other. Clearly, with no mistaking, he saw the weapons the oomans used on each other and he heard loud popping sounds that made him think of a pistol, the things that oomans used. . They must have been weapons because several of the oomans fell to the ground and never stood again. From the distance on the rooftop, he could see the heat signatures of the downed oomans begin to fade.
Prey, he thought to himself thinking about the surviving oomans from the battle on the deserted street, he concluded they would be worthy prey, able to taste of his blades. Ki'cte, he scolded in his mind, he could not afford to be distracted, and he had to work before he could indulge his thirst for the hunt. The call of the hunt continued to pull at him. When he returned the badblood to the Clan Ship, he had every intention of returning to the backwater planet to collect as many trophies as the allotted time would allow. Just in the small densely populated area where he had been chasing the badblood alone, had shown all the many possibilities that were available for him on the planet. So much promise, he thought to himself knowing his huntlust was working on him.
Now, he could understand why the badblood wanted to hunt on the planet, but in order to do so he needed permission and permission had not been granted. He was having some of the same desires to hunt the oomans. The feelings were intoxicating to the senses, but he was in control, unlike the badblood who broke Code.
The streets had become very noisy in such a short time. The clamor brought the arbiter out of his fantastic thoughts. He heard a female scream and the noise level grew even louder as he looked in the direction the badblood had gone. Something is happening up there, will happen up there, the arbiter thought to himself, and whatever it is, I'm sure that you, Roah' Saun, will most assuredly be a part of it, he thought remembering the images he saw on the flat screen that was mounted on the wall of the female ooman's dwelling.
In silence the arbiter waited to see what the next move of the badblood would be.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Roah' Saun stopped on the roof of the building across from the place he would do his hunting once the cover of night had properly cloaked the city. It was a large building with plenty of reflective glass on its façade that was facing onto a very crowded and noisy broad street. There were many oomans filing into the building from different directions as they left their dark metal surface transports, while there were other oomans barricaded from getting too close to the oomans which were of importance. The oomans who were being held at bay screamed and shouted words that sounded harsh and unpleasant to the oomans that emerged from the metal transports.
The yautja was excited by the tumult and uproar the shouting oomans were making towards his intended prey. The aggression towards his prey excited him and his huntlust began to rise.
He had planned the hunt with great enthusiasm once he had found out that the leaders of the backwater planet would be gathering in one place at one time. This nain-de would be a hunt he would remember for many turns. He would be able to tell his pups and his pups' pups about the time he had hunted the great leaders of the ooman world.
The yautja thrilled with the possibilities of what the hunt would yield, but he still couldn't get the thought of being followed out his mind. He had checked several times with his different visions, but there had been nothing behind him. I'm just being gkei'moun, he thought to himself as he shook the thought from his mind. It was silly to think he was being followed when he could see nothing even when he searched with all the vision modes of his helm.
Roah' Saun had been on his hunting spree unimpeded for three ooman years and he still felt as if he was untouchable. He wasn't sure if the Council of Elders realized what he had done, surely his own sire had known he had broken Code, but no one had come for him. Weak Council, weak Code, hethought disgraced with the fact that he had not been tracked as of yet. His kind was either slipping, or the Arbitrators had become incompetent and too pathetic to track him. He knew he was an exceptional hunter, but having a free-for-all for three-quarters of a turn, three years, only gave him more buoyancy to do what he wanted when he wanted to do it, he was un-stoppable.
Growling to himself, the badblood thrilled about his intended nain-de, smirking to himself about his success, thus far. He would hunt on the backwater planet and gather many trophies. His plan to hunt the leaders of the ooman world was brilliant. No other yautja could have come up with such a solid plan. It would be a simple task, like taking a sweet from a pup. The weak pathetic pyode amedha had made it so convenient for him by being in the same place at the same time. So very lucky for him, but most unfortunate for them; they would lose their heads and he would mount them in his trophy case. He had already arranged his case to accommodate his soon-to-be acquisitions.
When he approached the backwater planet several days earlier, he did not have a plan for this spontaneous hunt. He had only planned to stay for a while and see what the backwater planet had to offer. He had heard from other hunters, who had dared to hunt as they pleased, that the ooman world held promise and there was an element of worthy prey on the planet. He didn't know what to expect, but for him, there was no harm in scouting to see what was available. His source he had met a quarter-of-a-turn earlier, said the backwater planet was whispered on Nun' Doon, as a place for high-quality hunting, though not as celebrated as hunting kiande amedha. It was talk Roah' Saun knew, and any word that was spoken on Nun' Doon could not be completely trusted, but he had been curious. Curious enough to transgress the Code and seek the honor and fame that such a hunt would yield.
Understanding some of the languages of the backwater planet had allowed Roah' Saun opportunity to do a scan of the planet before actually landing. Through his scanning he had found a primitive form of communication that was transmitted via several probes that floated in space above the planet. The primitive communication was more than informative, he had listened and found out about the great gathering the oomans were planning to have in their very near future. It was to be a assembly that many on the planet would participate in.
The gathering of the ooman leaders was said to be of epic proportion for the weak creatures, a gathering that was so significant for them, it was to be heavily secured. The high security for the meeting was the thing that had attracted the yautja for the most part. If the security were to be high, then the quality of the prey would be worthy of his blades. So many would be there and he would get as many as time and his skill would allow him to take. He has set a minimum of two scores of skulls, but if he was able to get more, he would.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~
It had taken a while and the arbiter had made sure he kept a safe distance behind the badblood as he tracked him. They had moved around the small densely populated area for well over an hour and the arbiter thought the criminal was moving in circles, had been moving in circles with no clear destination in sight. It was like the yautja was trying to make sure he wasn't being noticed or followed, but kept taking the same route. The arbiter was growing weary of the mundane movement, but the badblood finally entered the building that the arbiter thought he would enter when they first came to the area. They had passed the same building three times, but the badblood had apparently ignored it until now.
The opportunity was ripe and the arbiter had the badblood exactly where he wanted him. Quick and quiet, was the way he would capture the criminal. With the luck of Paya he would subdue his charge and be gone without the oomans knowing anything. He didn't need any attention drawn to what he would be doing nor did he want his work to cause a scene; he just hoped the badblood would cooperate. He didn't want to, but he would use force on the yautja if it were necessary. It was his intent to get close enough to tranquilize the criminal without incident.
Everything looked perfect, but in the back of his mind something told the arbiter that his luck would not hold. The dimly lit corridor of the ooman structure provided the perfect cover for the badblood to stalk his prey unseen and for the arbiter to track his prey undetected. Both were cloaked and invisible to the ooman eye there was nothing amiss in the corridor. Neither yautja made a sound as both in silence and stealth made their way to their intended targets.
Attentively the arbiter watched his prey.
The arbiter watched as the badblood creep down the silent corridor suspecting, but not seeing the other yautja's presence. Several times the criminal turned looking to make sure he wasn't being followed; each time he looked behind him, the arbiter froze in his tracks allowing the whu'tang cloak shield him from the yautja's searching eyes. When the criminal was satisfied with no evidence of pursuit he would continue towards his destination.
Where are you going, the arbiter thought as he looked at the badblood and continued to follow in silence. The badblood moved as if he knew where he was going, like he had walked the corridor before, but it was taking him an awful lot of unnecessary time to get to his destination. Either the badblood was a blundering idiot and he was hunting blind or he had planned out the elaborate scheme from the beginning. He moved like he was in no rush to execute his plan, but the arbiter could smell eagerness and excitement all over him. Dragh'Ar Ghon didn't think the badblood was a blundering, because he had eluded him for almost a turn, a yautja year, four human years. It was obvious the badblood had planned out the intricate strategy as part of his hunt.
With the stealth of their kind, the badblood continued his pursuit of his prey.
From his caution and his deliberate execution of his nain-de, the arbiter could see that the criminal had planned out all he would do that day; and the badblood had come prepared to be successful with his hunt.
Now it was time for the arbiter to run his scenario of the badblood's capture through his mind for clarity's sake. A clear visual of what he would be doing would ensure little or no mistakes.
The first thing to be done was to identify the badblood by name. This was standard procedure and there was no doubt he had the right badblood. He had spent the last three ooman years tracking the criminal. Noting the two mounted casters, one on each shoulder, told the arbiter that he would have to be extremely close to the badblood so he wouldn't be able to use the weapons on him. He also had to be swift and fluid with his movements as no to give the criminal anytime to react or draw weapon. As he identified the badblood by name he would de-cloak. It was against the Code to attack while cloaked. Even though the criminal did not respect the Code, the arbiter would and he would give the criminal a fighting chance.
Visually sizing up the yautja, the arbiter saw the badblood was about the same height or an inch or two shorter. The younger yautja was heavily muscled and well toned. He wore scars, but not as many as the arbiter; age, skill and experience gave scars and trophies; hands down, the arbiter had more than the badblood. Making his quick analysis of the yautja's strength and ability, the arbiter decided the first blow delivered would either be a solid punch to the face of his helm or a deafening head butt that would stun but not knock the badblood unconscious before he verbally served him. The verbal serving was a formality that had to be followed since he would be brought back to the Council alive. If his head was the only proof needed, then he would dispense with the verbal formalities and just kill him. If the first blow wasn't enough to confound the badblood, then he would deliver two rapid and more powerful blows to subdue the criminal, then he's verbally serve the badblood.
I'll have to grab both of his wrists so he won't flee, the arbiter thought trying to judge the raw strength of the younger yautja. He thought that the yautja's strength might rival his own because of his height and size, but he would have surprise and speed on his side. He'd be able to execute his plan before the badblood had an opportunity to react. He trusted the Whu'tang cloak would get him exactly where he needed to be and the criminal would not know it until it was too late.
Looking at the wicked ki'cti-pas the badblood wore on both wrists, the arbiter decided he would grab the yautja just above the wrist blades and swiftly rotate his arms away from him so the blades wouldn't protract into him. If the badblood knew how to use both ki'cti-pa equally well, and he had no doubt the yautja knew how to use the wrist blades, he would be in a dilemma. This meant if he didn't successfully contain the threat of the badblood using his momentum, speed and strength on the first attempt to restrain the criminal, then he would be thoroughly gutted; thus ending his assignment. Being gutted by the badblood was not an option so he would make sure that his plan was expertly timed and executed. If only I could just kill him, the arbiter thought, then he put the notion out of his mind, killing the badblood by his blades was not an option.
Speed and precision, the arbiter reminded himself. He'd strike whip-like and hard so he could shoot the badblood with the tranquillizer gun. Absently he felt at his thigh to reassure him that the tranquilizer gun was still there.
As he quickly thought and planned, the arbiter let his huntlust rise. The adrenaline was beginning to pulse through his body. Much was riding on his first and possibly only strike against the badblood. The arbiter not only had to contend with subduing the badblood, but he also had the added responsibility of keeping commotion away from the oomans. Luck would probably be against him because the badblood had selected such a public place to hunt. It was a difficult challenge he had to contain, but he felt confident he would prevail. He had prevailed in the past against the odds of success and he was sure that Paya would be with him again and give him the victory.
"Dtai'k-dte sa-de nav'g-kon dtain'aun bpide," the arbiter breathed silently into the mask of his helm and no audible words escaped his mouth as he moved quickly to closing the distance between himself and the unsuspecting yautja. His huntlust was raging inside him as his adrenaline pounded within his body threatening to cause aneurism in his brain.
A low primitive released from deep within the arbiter's throat and the badblood turned on cue to face the arbiter.
Uncloaking as he as he simultaneously grabbed both the badblood's forearms just above his ki'cti-pas, wristblades,as he head butted the badblood so hard that he dented the mask of the criminal's helm. The badblood took several staggering steps backwards before he crashed solid against the wall.
The arbiter saw his first strike had dazed the badblood, but not stopped him. Now, you'll be punched, the arbiter thought, as he spared not a moment between head-butting the badblood and the stone fist punch he was about to deliver.
"Roah' Saun offspring of Elder C'Has'Emi of House Gald' D 'Olin, Clan Zoi 'Si and High Counselor Nefru-Ptah of House Mo' Rhat, Clan Zoi 'Si," the arbiter began as he slammed his fist squarely in to the helm of the badblood's denting the metal mask. Florescent green blood began to drip form the lower left side of the yautja's helm and down his chest.
Still not incapacitated but definitely shocked, the badblood tried to shake off the arbiter's blow in order to regain some composure. At this point, the badblood was not able to maintain his cloak and he materialized into existence under a crackle of dancing blue-white light.
"Roah Saun, vende-thwei, transgressor of Yautja Code," the arbiter continued as he punched the younger yautja with a stone fist in his gut; not giving the criminal an opportunity to defend himself. The arbiter was uncloaked and he could beat the badblood as much as he wanted too, so long as he didn't kill him. The arbiter wanted desperately to pound on the vende-thwei before he tranquilized him, his huntlust demanded that it be satisfied. Once the badblood was tranquilized and in custody, the arbiter could not, would not harm him. He had chased the badblood for almost a turn, and now he would give the vende-thwei something to remember him by as he was being transported back to the Clan Ship.
With speed and precision, the arbiter spoke and pummeled the badblood as he allowed the forced of his blows to accentuate the words he spoke.
"…This day, Dragh'Ar Ghon the Second Arbiter of Clan Ship Zoi 'Si, Third Arbiter of the Mothership Ba' Ruk'Ka, retrieve you for the High Council of Clan Ship Zoi 'Si. Roah' Saun of the Zoi 'Si Clan, Gald' D 'Olin House, you are retrieved for the crimes committed against the Code," the arbiter finished as he landed a stone fist in the abdomen of the younger yautja and watched him crumple to the ground.
The arbiter beat the badblood to the ground not needing to draw a weapon. Pleased with himself and the outcome thus far, the arbiter took a reflexive step back to view his handiwork.
Patience and prudence, the arbiter thought as the badblood cowered in defeat before him.
Using the moment, the arbiter collected himself; the arbiter quickly surveyed his surroundings. It would take only a moment and then he would promptly tranquilize the badblood and remove him from the ooman building.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~
As he crept deeper into the ooman building unimpeded, Roah' Saun felt a better-sweet sense of success. There was no one stopping him, but he felt like his hunt was doomed. He couldn't explain it, but his magnificent nain-de was too good to be true.
He went with his conscious, which told him; If the way was clear, then his victory was sure.
"Nain-desintje-de", Roah' Saun whispered to himself as he continued down the long corridor that would lead him to the main meeting area where his prey would be gathered. The victory and the hunt belonged to him.
Checking earlier on the female ooman's visual screen; he was able to find out the progress of the ooman's gathering. This gave him a good idea of whether or not all the ooman leaders had arrived at their meeting. All had not arrived and he had to circle the area several times before he was able to close in on his kill.
When he moved across the rooftops of the buildings he got the distinct feeling that he was being followed, but had seen nothing. Now that he was in the corridor alone, the sinking feeling of being watched and followed returned.
It's nothing, he thought to himself, putting the childish notion out f his head.
Logic told him, if there were anything to see or hear, he would have seen and heard it by now. He had the latest in technology and his helm would detect any movement or heat signature. He had superior hearing and his ears had never betrayed him, so there was no cause to be suspicious. There was no reason to act like a frightened pup, Roah' Saun thought to himself as he continued to walk down the dimly lit corridor.
Behind him, Roah' Saun heard a low threatening growl and froze. It had been such a long time since he heard such a sound. In fact, it was his plan not to hear a sound like that until he was ready and on his own terms to encounter another yautja.
Maybe it's my mind playing tricks on me, Roah' Saun thought as he turned to look behind him to dispel his suspicions.
As he turned white–blue light crackled before him as another yautja materialized before him. He stood face-to-face with a gold helm and a yautja who was approximately his height with deep navy blue locks that looked black; the long locks fell to the yautja's waist. The yautja wore awu'asa of gold and bore the mark of the arbiter on the crown of his helm.
"Paya be pauked," Roah' Saun swore to himself as he felt two iron-clad clawed hands grip both of his forearms above his ki'cti-pa. He knew he was in trouble.
The sudden appearance and speed of the arbiter had caught him totally off guard to the point that he could do nothing. He had two state-of-the-art plasma casters, one mounted on either shoulder and he could not use either. The arbiter had seized both of his forearms with grips that threatened to snap his forearms in two if he moved them. There was no way he could protract his ki'cti-pas to stab the attacker and there was no foreseeable way he could twist out of the yautja's grip without seriously injuring himself in the process.
I'm pauked, he thought as he waited for the arbiter to make the next move and he did.
As quickly as he had materialized before him and had clamped down on his forearms, Roach' Saun felt a staggering crash land against him helm. He heard and felt a sick cracking sound as the metal of his helm groaned in pain as it gave way under the pressure and power of the arbiter's skull. A sudden sharp pain assaulted his skull. It felt like the yautja had struck him with the weight of a mace, but he had only used his head. The blow threw him off balance and he was glad the arbiter had released his forearms and had not hit him a second time with his head. He thought if the arbiter would have hit him a second time, he would have split his skull or broken his neck. The force of the blow made him stumble backwards and he felt himself crash hard against the wall of the corridor.
An excruciating pain began to throb at the point of the impact and his vision became blurred, now in front of him stood three arbiters. Without warning he saw the three pale navy speckled fists barrel towards his face. Loudly, he heard a sick crunch as the arbiter's speckled fist made contact with the face of his helm. He felt the tusk of his lower mandible bite wickedly into his own flesh as he felt the warmth of his life blood begin to fill the inside of his helm and run down his chin onto his chest.
There was a ringing in his inner ears, but he could hear the arbiter as he spoke clearly.
"Roah' Saun offspring of Elder C'Has'Emi of House Gald' D 'Olin, Clan Zoi 'Si and High Counselor Nefru-Ptah of House Mo' Rhat, Clan Zoi 'Si," the arbiter began.
I'm truly pauked, Roah' Saun thought to himself, both the Elders and the Council want me. This would be the end for him. His reign of rebellion would be over and the arbiterwould take his head back to the Clan Ship.
This can't be happening, Roah' Saun thought, why couldn't I see or hear him? How can he see me and I'm cloaked, he thought as his own cloak weakened as it crackled blue-white light and he materialized before the arbiter.
Roah' Saun gasped in horror as he became conscious what he had said and what was happening. The arbiter had been watching and following him all along and he couldn't see or hear him.
Grunting in pain as he felt another hard fist punch him solidly in his abdomen, Roah' Saun heard the arbiter speak again.
"Roah' Saun, vende thwei, transgressor of Yautja Code…"
Roah' Saun grimaced as he was named and branded badblood, now it was official. If there was any doubt that he wasn't hunted as a criminal, an enemy of Yautja Code, it was gone. He was at that instant officially marked and there was nowhere for him to hide among his people. If by some miracle he was able to escape capture this day, he would live the rest of his life as a lone hunter; making sure to avoid yautjas at all costs.
Another intense punch smashed into him and the arbiter spoke again.
"This day, Dragh'Ar Ghon the Second Arbiter of Clan Ship Zoi 'Si, Third Arbiter of the Mothership Ba' Ruk'Ka, retrieve you for the High Council of Clan Ship Zoi 'Si. Roah' Saun of the Zoi 'Si Clan, Gald' D 'Olin House, you are retrieved for the crimes committed against the Code".
Dragh'Ar Ghon the Arbiter, Roah' Saun thought to himself realizing who the arbiter was. The yautja was the best on both the Clan Ship and the Mothership. He will have me in the end, the younger yautja thought, but would not concede to defeat. He was not before the Council, so he was not at his end, which meant he still had hope for escape.
The second blow to his gut had taken his wind away and his knees buckled as he sank to the ground on all fours. He hurt all over and didn't know if he could take anymore of the brutal pounding. He was pathetic, he couldn't even defend himself let-alone strike back. The arbiter was quick and thorough. I have to do something, Roah' Saun thought, I can't be taken this easy. He had to subdue his pain if he was going to save his life, so he began to muster the strength that he needed.
Think! Think, Roah' Saun reprimanded himself in his head.
Roah' Saun now knew that it was true what was spoken about Dragh'Ar Ghon the Arbiter, his skill and efficiency was far superior than the rest in his field of expertise, capturing badbloods. He had not raised a weapon against him nor had he brought a caster of any kind yet he had defeated him in such a short space of time, about ten human minutes. Roah' Saun felt the shame knowing he had two mounted casters, wearing one on either shoulder and he wore two ki'cti-pas, yet he was not able to use anything against the arbiter. The other yautja was exceptionally fast and extremely precise with his strikes. It was like he knew exactly what he was going to do and he did not hesitate in doing it.
I will lose my pride and honor to save my life, Roah' Saun thought inwardly as he denounced himself as yautja. Now was vende thwei; he would be that until his death.
In the distance he heard the sound of many feet coming towards them. The sound could be faintly heard from both ends of the corridor.
Oomans, Roah' Saun thought an wondered if the arbiter also heard the sound of the approaching pyode amedha.
Quickly, Roah' Saun's mind began to spin a plan for his escape. He'd use the oomans as a distraction while he used his caster to make a hole in the glass wall to escape. Today he would run like a tarei'hasan, and save his life, a coward he would be, but he would be alive. Now, life was sweeter than honor and to live was to gain.
Closer he heard them draw, but the arbiter still made no indication of him hearing the approach.
"Stand, vende thwei," the arbiter said and Roah' Saun obeyed.
Slowly the younger hunter stood to his full height of over eight feet and he shifted his weight towards the reflective glass. He hoped the arbiter didn't realize what he was doing until it was too late.
Once he was standing erect, Roah' Saun continued to listen as the ooman drew even closer.
Closer, closer, he thought as he prepared to power up his casters.
He might be able to shoot the arbiter, but he thought his odds of success would be very slim considering what the yautja had already done to him. He wasn't going to push his luck, but rather stick with his plan that would give him a higher rate of success. He had only one chance and he was going to use it to escape, not fight.
"Now!" Roan' Saun heard himself roar as he aimed his left caster at the reflective glass and cloaked while blasting the glass and diving through the opening he had made.
"I lose my pride and honor to live another day," Roah' Saun said to himself as he fell towards the ground below.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~
Dragh'Ar Ghon watched the badblood as he cowered on hands and knees before him. His work was done and now it was time to leave and deliver his detainee. In reality, he would have preferred delivering a skull but he had his orders.
His ears caught the faint sound of oomans approaching. Time to be gone, he thought as he reached to his thigh to retrieve the tranquilizer gun. He wanted to be far-gone when the oomans arrived at the spot where he was standing.
"Stand, vende thwei," the Dragh'Ar Ghon said and the badblood obeyed.
After the badblood stood up, he looked at Dragh'Ar Ghon for a moment and then without warning he powered up his casters. At first, the arbiter thought the badblood was going to attack, then he saw the badblood's left caster turn towards the glass wall the shielded the corridor from the outside. The weapon fired and the thick glass shattered and melted in on itself to form a hole large enough for escape. He saw the badblood cloak and then he saw the cloaked form dive through the opening in the glass.
"Pauk!" Dragh'Ar Ghon swore knowing his charge was gone and the oomans had seen only him. Now he could not cloak and follow the badblood, he had to fight.
~o~o~o~o~o~o~
This was not supposed to happen. He had come to the end of the hunt for the badblood and now he was supposed to have him subdued and on his way back to the badblood's ship. Cetanu had laughed at him and given him a cruel twist of fate, but what end? Only Paya knew the reason for the irony.
Quickly, the oomans flooded the corridor where he stood, from both ends. The kwei badblood had, refused to fight him and instead, made his cowardly escape through the hole he had made in the glass wall leaving the arbiter to face the oomans.
Now, surrounded by oomans, the arbiter knew that the badblood's capture would be delayed yet again. Officially he did not want the fight he was going to have with the oomans, but he was going to enjoy it thoroughly. He would drink of the hunt and allow his thirst to be quenched. He was ready to dance with death and slaughter until he climaxed. Today he would get his fill of carnage and ask Paya to deliver him so he could finish his retrieval of the badblood.
Sometimes things happen for a reason, the arbiter thought, knowing that his huntlust would taste the sweet nectar of the nain-de. He was dressed in his light arbiter armor which meant he wasn't properly prepared for what was about to happen, but he would take down as many oomans as he could before they killed him. He was not going to let them take him alive. Paya knew he needed to be away from the oomans and that his fate was now in the balance.
Like zi'pattas, the smaller oomans surrounded him. Easily the arbiter towered a good two feet over the oomans. They pressed closer to him in the corridor from both directions making sure to leave him a respectable twelve feet of clearance on both sides. The only thing that was close to him was the hole in the glass walling that badblood had escaped through. The oomans watched the large hunter with great trepidation.
He saw their heat signatures through the mask of his helm. The thermal images of the oomans were an assorted mixture of red, orange, yellow and blue. Most of the coloring of the images raged red and orange; the oomans were excited and shocked. He could smell the excitement and anticipation oozing from their pores. They were excited about the coming battle. Fear, he thought, as he also smelled it them. He could distinctly smell their fear, even though they held their ground, it hung thick in the corridor and wreaked from most of the oomans. There was a hint of confidence on a few of the oomans, some who actually thought they could face him in battle. Thrilling as a growl began to form in his chest, he told himself the confident ones he would savor killing the most. Those oomans would give pleasure to his huntlust.
"Let the battle begin," the arbiter, whispered to himself as he released a sinister growl, the arbiter reached behind him and grabbed his naginata moving smoothly into a hiju, fighting stance.
Now was the best time to get the fight started, the arbiter reasoned. If Paya was with him, he'd be the victor. He needed a quick victory so he could complete the task that brought him to the backwater planet. Now, he wished he had brought his caster. Had he brought the caster he could have easily cleared the corridor of the pathetic filth and be after the criminal. First, he had to clear the corridor.
Not waiting for the oomans to attack, the arbiter went on the offensive. Quickly he leveled his naginata evenly with the heads of the oomans and swung the wicked blade with one powerful swipe as he took a long step towards them closing the distance between them rapidly. A loud cold-blooded battle cry escaped his mouth and reverberated in the corridor.
Immediately the first row of oomans to his right lost their heads. He didn't blink or stop to consider what he had just done. As if time had slowed itself to make emphasis of the arbiter's skill and precision, seven lifeless heads whose eyes and mouths were still open and staring in disbelief fell to the ground with dull thuds one-by-one. The decapitated bodies plummeted to the cold corridor floor and began to cover the tiled floor with the crimson warm blood of the arbiter's first kills.
He thrilled within himself as the ooman blood covered his body. His huntlust began to feed.
Quickly he turned to his left hoping to swiftly decapitate the flanking oomans, but he was not as successful. The oomans watched in horror as their comrades fell to the ground with their heads going in one direction and their bodies going in another. They second group of oomans on the left were so paralyzed with shock and fear that they were not able to fire their weapons. The only thing they could do was take a step backwards to make sure they didn't meet the same fate as the soldiers across from them had.
They had escaped the fate of instant decapitation, but had tasted the wickedness of the razor sharp blade on the arbiter's naginata as it cut through their chest slicing through flesh and bone. The men screamed out in piercing terror as they grabbed at their open bleeding torsos trying to hold their mutilated entrails. Their efforts were of no use; their organs would not stay in their chest cavities they slipped through their bloodied hands as their life slipped away from them. Slowly the seven men sank to the ground knowing their efforts to keep their vital organs inside was futile. They were dying before the arbiter in a most excruciating manner.
It was not his intention to make the oomans suffer, but he could not completely control the hunt, only fate guided the outcome of the nain-de.
"Paya have h'chak on your pitiful souls," the arbiter said as he quickly swung his naginata again and this time he felt and heard his blade cut through the necks and spines of the humans.
The decapitations weren't clean, but at least the oomans were dead and their suffering cut short.
Moving back to his right and hoping to take out his third row of ooman, the arbiter was faced with automatic gunfire. The oomans had recovered themselves enough to pull several yards away from the arbiter and open fire on him.
"Yes!" the arbiter roared in his native tongue as he charged the oomans.
They were giving him challenge and it pleased him; fueled him and satisfied his huntlust. He felt the ooman's warm blood splatter against and it elated him. He also felt a strange biting sensation across his flesh that was not covered by his awu'asa. He felt his own blood flowing from him.
"Kill the motherfucker! Kill it dead," a male ooman voice shouted and the gunshots from behind him bit angrily into his exposed flesh.
Prolonging the battle and using the oomans as shields, the arbiter jumped over the oomans in front of him and landed in their midst. The gun fire continued to ring out and the arbiter continued to swing his naginata cutting down the oomans in the process. The oomans that were behind the arbiter continued to shoot at him killing their comrades in the process.
"Cease fire! Cease fire!" the male's voice yelled realizing that the soldiers were killing other soldiers and not hitting their target. The man yelled above the gunfire and the blasting sounds of automatic weapons until they were quieted.
The arbiter, in his fighting frenzy continued to swing and chop his naginata, cutting down anything that moved in his path.
"Tranquilize! Tranquilize!" the voice sounded again, but he arbiter could not here.
The only thing the arbiter could sense was the smell of fear, death and destruction. It hung in the corridor heavy threatening to choke and kill all that was living. He felt the tantalizing warmth of human blood on his body caressing skin like a sensual lover. His huntlust begged for more and he satisfied it.
Once he had downed all the oomans that had been to his right and in front of him, he moved to kill the oomans that had been to his left and behind him.
Turning to face the oomans, he saw they had moved further away from him and had positioned themselves in an odd formation. There were two rows of oomans, one kneeling and the other standing directly behind them, two rows of eight oomans each and they all had weapons. They had their weapons pointed at him waiting for him. Without wasting time, he ran towards them as he let out an ear splitting battle cry.
"First squad… READY! AIM! FIRE!" a female's voice sounded and the kneeling oomans obeyed. "Reload!" the female barked and all eight soldiers' weapons clicked discharging the used rounds.
The arbiter felt eight sharp pricks bite deep into his hide and he faltered in his steps.
"Second squad… READY! AIM! FIRE!" a female barked quickly and all eight standing oomans quickly obeyed. "Reload!" she barked a second command to the standing oomans and in unison eight soldiers discharged their weapons.
Again, the arbiter felt eight sharp pricks bite in different areas of his unprotected flesh. He faltered again and realized he wasn't moving as fast as he had been moving. His feet were beginning to feel heavy and unsure.
"First squad… READY! AIM! FIRE!" the female repeated quickly and the kneeling oomans hurriedly obeyed. "Reload!" she barked. One single loud sound of discharge and reload echoed in the corridor. The soldiers were holding their nerve and position; closely following the orders of their commander without wavering
A third time the arbiter felt the biting at his flesh. The oomans in front of him bean to wave and distort themselves as their heat signatures were beginning to merge with each other. He blinked inside his mask to clear his vision, but they heat signatures continued to fuse. The oomans appeared to be moving further away from him.
"Second squad… READY! AIM! FIRE!" He heard the female's voice say a fourth time. It sounded far away from him like it was fading in the distance. "Reload!" he heard the voice say, but now it sounded slurred and intoxicated.
The arbiter felt more biting at his flesh, but it was faint, a mere annoyance among of something greater; the fading of his strength. His awu'asa felt heavy on his body. It was like he was a tiny pup trying to carry his sire's awu'asa. Too heavy and too big, he thought. He tried to lift his feet to move them, but they would not obey him. They felt as if they had sunk into the floor and become part of it.
The voice sounded again.
"First squad…" it slurred and the arbiter couldn't distinguish if it was male or female.
"READY…" it slurred on.
He felt his knees buckle beneath him.
"AIM…" the second command slurred.
He heard metal crash against the floor and knew he had dropped is naginata. A moment later he saw his naginata lying on the corridor floor in front of him. He reached for his weapon, but saw a booted foot kick it away.
He never heard the last command to "FIRE".
Darkness enveloped him and he waited to be greeted by Cetanu, Death.
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Vocabulary/translation
(Have fun with these words and translations… I did… feel free to use them)
(Words…)
Pr'Ehon and Zu'heus the yautja name for twin galaxies adjacent to earth's galaxy.
dre'ek week
nain-de a type of hunt
kwei tricky, sly
gkinmaru the view screen of a ship
pauk! fuck!
oomans humans
data' shon'de scanners yautja technology, scanners that allow several thermal ground-tracking techniques to be used so yautja can bypass and jam any radar tracking system
pebbles recon nascence probes yautja technology, probesthe size of a golf ball to attach themselves to the alien crafts and gather information from the craft's computerized system
Whu'tang active camouflage yautja technology, an upgraded cloaking device designed so not even yautja helms could read the wearer's heat signature or see the wearer provided the wearer remained perfectly still
awu'asa full body armor
helm helmet, yautja face covering
score twelve
huntlust a strong and overwhelming desire to hunt prey, that it is almost erotic in nature
guan night
chu'khah! wow!
sire father
bearer mother
nok a measurement, about 13 inches
Yautja Code, Code Yautja Law
c'jit shit
Paya yautja god
rotation/turn a yautja year (four human years)
Nain-desintje-de the Pure Win (Absolute Victory)
gkei'moun simple, silly
ki'cti-pas weapons, wristblades
"Dtai'k-dte sa-de nav'g-kon dtain'aun bpide" "The fight begun would not end until the end."
vende-thwei badblood
pyode amedha soft meat
pup child
zi'pattas small animals about the size of chimpanzees; that looks like a cross between a hyena and a emaciated walrus; they are ferocious when they attack and hunt; they hunt as a group surround the prey and attack as a unit until death
naginata a self-powered telescoping spear that is merely one meter at its shortest length, but extends by two meters at each end
h'chakmercy
hiju fighting stance
Cetanu Death
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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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