Rating: M for violence/gore, strong language, adult themes and more. Read at your own discretion.
Summary: Royce once promised Isabelle he'd find them a way home… but nine months later, he's holding his infant daughter, tears staining his cheeks. He's determined to protect her no matter what but things take an interesting turn when the Yautja learn there's an Ooman pup on the loose.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Predators/Aliens universe, all rights belong to Fox and all the respective parties. Also, keep in mind this story is unbetaed and while I preview and edit everything to the best of my abilities, I cannot possibly account for everything. This is also my first fanfic, so go easy on me! :)
Additional Notes: I am so sorry for the what... 3-4 month wait? It was certainly not within my intentions for such a thing to occur but my personal laptop broke down and I had/have some health issues. At the moment I am struggling to find a new laptop to purchase as well as battling severe allergies that have me taking days off of work. Nevertheless, here is another chapter and I will hopefully get the next one out sooner. I have a friend who is letting me write on their laptop and I see them every couple of days. Many thanks to them and of course, everyone that has read and supported my story so far! You guys are amazing and without you all I would most likely have dropped this story after the 1st chapter.
So without further adieu, here is the 3rd chapter!
Half a Year Ago...
When Royce found Isabelle, it was if his heart had been pierced by one thousand bullets.
It seemed like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs and the shadows of death lingered in the edges of his vision threatening to overwhelm him. A chasm had opened up in his chest; so great he felt as if he'd been physically split open.
As he staggered back, lost his footing and clumsily fell backward, he could not contain the howl of anguish that tore through him. A sound of raw agony and remorse ripped through the air and everything within half a mile stilled for no one had ever heard a noise so wretched...
With hands fisting the grass, he screamed his lungs out and although no tears fell, the chasm in his chest only widened and the darkness within grew, greedily clambering into every nook and cranny of Royce's mind.
At that moment he embodied the very aspect of total and utter misery.
And then came the hate.
Why? A tiny voice inside him asked, sounding much like his missing little girl, why did they kill her? What threat was Isabelle to them? What pleasure could those monsters possibly derive from murdering a defenseless woman? Was there any reason at all?
No, no reason could justify the carnage laying in front of him. No rationale in the entire fucking galaxy could explain this...
All that was left was the burning anger and grief from within the chasm inside him. How dare they, he thought viciously, picking himself up and clutching his spear until his knuckles turned white, how dare they take her from me! As if no punishment will come to them...
The darkness in his mind cackled evilly as Royce's hollow eyes surveyed the scene for any sign of the culprit or Dawn.
Dawn.
Either the murderer had killed his baby girl too or somehow she had gotten away. Perhaps she was hiding somewhere? Afraid and all alone, waiting for her daddy to find and save her?
Although his heart bled, he dared not call out for her in case the monster was still lurking somewhere close. If they still loitered in the surrounding area, they would have heard his screaming, so calling out wouldn't do him any more favors.
With one last look at the butchered remains of what used to be the woman he loved, he turned away and began searching the area for clues.
It became disgustingly obvious that Isabelle's killer had gone with the up, close and personal method and made as big a mess as possible. There was blood, rotting human remains and clear evidence of a struggle. The body had been left laying on the jungle floor instead of hung in a tree as was the usual practice of the Predators. That meant one of two things, the monster Royce hunted cared not for habit or it had been interrupted.
The body was half skinned from the torso down meaning it was most definitely the latter and that meant something had either physically halted the task or captured its attention.
It could have left to go after Dawn, Royce realized with growing dread.
Hastening his search he headed back to the cave, where he'd originally arrived at right before he had discovered his family hadn't been there for days. The cave was untouched and there was no evidence that a Predator had gone through anything; which meant it had ambushed Isabelle outside of the cave. It was unlikely Dawn was anywhere near the cave or he would have seen recent tracks or evidence of her presence.
Along with Dawn's current location, another mystery presented itself; where the fuck was Cujo?
He'd trained that damned mutt for two whole years and what good had it done? Isabelle was dead, again, and Dawn was missing until proved otherwise.
So fucking much for training a guard dog, he thought bitterly as he made his way out of the cave and back to the murder site.
The next few hours were filled with quiet stalking and careful listening as Royce crept through the jungle looking for tracks and keeping an eye out for any sign of Dawn. Once in a while, he would find half a track or two of muddy hellhound footprints. Going by the direction and infrequency, Royce would guess that Cujo had been heading away from home and quickly, making leaps and bounds with those powerful back haunches of his. It made him wonder if the alien dog had simply run away at the first sign of danger and the very thought incensed him enough to punch a tree.
Fuck.
As Royce kept going, night fell and in the cloak of darkness, he was able to travel quicker. His footsteps were silent as he moved over and around things with practiced ease, as to not disturb the stillness of the night. He paced himself and stopped briefly every two to three hours for a water break and to catch his breath. He still hadn't found any sign of Dawn and although Cujo's tracks were getting more frequent and easier to track, they seemed to go on forever.
That blasted hound really did run away, he thought scathingly, if I ever see that cur again, I'm gonna kill it.
His rage gave him an energy boost for the next several hours until dawn broke and the jungle was bathed in sunlight once more. Royce was forced to slow his pace and keep to the thicker and denser parts of the jungle to avoid being seen or tracked easily. He still didn't know where his wife's killer was but for now, it wasn't a priority. By his estimations, Isabelle had been killed three to four days before his return which meant the Predator responsible was presumably nowhere within the vicinity.
The matter of finding Dawn came first and as soon as he found her, he would never let her out of his sight again.
I never should have gone on that damn trip, he knew, regret poisoning his thoughts, if I had been with my family, where I belonged... none of this would have happened. Its all my fault... Isabelle's death is my fault.
The sorrow in his heart made him come to a complete stop.
It was his fault, wasn't it. His family was dead. How could Dawn survive by herself anyway? It was likely Royce would never find her body; being forever lost in the wilderness or merely dragged away and eaten by wild animals. The mere thought of it caused bile to rise in his throat and he bent over coughing and hacking up they dried jerky he'd eaten on his last break.
Wiping his mouth, he forced himself to carry on. His eyes held a dead look to them but in his stride was unwavering determination. He would find Dawn. There was no other option.
And if she was dead... fuck it, he'd put a bullet in his mouth. There was no reason to live without his family... at least, not anymore.
A Few Weeks Later...
Royce was beginning to lose hope.
He'd lost Cujo's tracks and for the last two days, had been wandering aimlessly throughout a forest that bordered a rolling golden-grassed savanna. He had grown weary and felt mentally ill at the thought of continuing his futile search and abandoning his daughter.
There had been no sign of her that he'd found while tracking Cujo and he was beginning to hallucinate Predators in the treetops. He would see them out of the corners of his eyes but they'd vanish into nothing the minute he turned his head. He never heard them nor saw any sign of them. The phantoms were just there... haunting him and reminding him he was nothing but prey to be looked down upon and hunted.
Sinking to his knee's by a trickling stream, he washed his face and drank. His beard was getting longer and in the way, meaning he'd have to shave it off sometime soon. He didn't have the energy for it but it was starting to irritate him, making his skin itch and getting twigs and leaves caught in it.
Isabelle had often joked he looked manlier with a beard and he'd shot back with a, ''All men look more manly with a beard'' and then in an afterthought, ''They aren't practical''. She'd then challenged him to maintain a beard for a full year without one complaint. He hadn't even lasted three months before he had broke down and scraped it all off whilst cursing up a storm as Isabelle giggled behind him with Dawn in her arms.
The memory opened up an aching wound inside him and it bled into his state of mind until he just couldn't take it anymore. Rearing up, he tore his knife out of its sheath and began hacking away at his face. He felt no pain except an occasional sting or scrape as he destroyed his beard and probably took off two layers of his skin along with it.
By the time he was finished, blood was streaming down his cheeks and neck. Numbly, he stooped to clean his blade and washed his face, watching with dull fascination as his blood was swept downstream.
It was then he caught sight of a familiar hulking figure behind him and he whirled around, half expecting it to disappear like normal.
It didn't.
The Predator stood, leaned up against a tree, head cocked and mask angled towards him. It's body language told him it had been there for some time even though his mind screamed there was no way something that huge had crept up on him and had been watching him for over twenty minutes. Yet, the massive alien was indeed relaxed and currently in a state of observation, silently regarding him through its lifeless metal mask. It's massive tree-trunk thick arms were folded across it's chest in a familiar human gesture and the tilt to its head mimicked curiosity. The shoulder cannon currently had its three little red dots settled directly on Royce's chest, hovering with lethal intent. In contrast to Royce, the alien looked relaxed but alert and ready for the man to make a move. It made Royce grit his teeth to know the giant hunter apparently didn't even consider him a threat.
Sadly enough, it was right. Royce was outgunned and standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, bleeding profusely from his face by self-inflicted wounds with nothing but a knife in hand. He'd never have enough time to draw his gun or make an escape before the cannon disintegrated him in seconds...
Royce heaved a quiet sigh as he lowered his knife and gave the Predator a menacing warning glare.
Just then the sudden familiarity hit him and he gasped, staring at the alien with renewed caution and interest. The height, the sheer size, the lack of hostility... it was the same Predator that had saved Isabelle two years ago! Even the crude markings on it's mask were the same!
Mouth slightly ajar, he simply stared the colossal monster with a stupified expression, unable to come up with any reaction other than gaping.
It couldn't be responsible for Isabelle's murder, could it? This particular Predator had never tried to attack him or given him any reason to do so, in fact, he had saved the lives of his wife and child and then simply let them be. Royce still hadn't figured out just how the alien had brought his wife back to life and now that he was staring the mammoth being in the mask, he couldn't bring himself to ask.
Yet despite it all, what if he really was staring at Isabelle's killer? What if it had all been some sort of convoluted ploy and this creature really was responsible for the deaths of his wife and baby girl? Weren't all Predators the same? A giant killing machine that hunted for sport and killed indiscriminately until nothing was left?
The red haze of undiluted rage and hurt slammed into Royce and he bellowed, blinding charging at the monster with murder in his eyes.
The next thing he knew he was on his back with the wind knocked out of him. His chest was smoking as if he'd just been hit with a fireball. The smell of his own smoldering flesh was nauseating and the searing pain was almost unbearable. That motherfucker had shot him... shot him but oddly enough, hadn't killed him.
While he writhed on the ground in agony, the Predator was busy growling and clicking at him in a way he'd never heard. The clicks were sharp and distinguished between the occasional throaty growl and it took Royce a full two minutes to realize the bastard was speaking to him. Royce had known the alien hunters communicated with each other via a series of clicks they made with their mandibles and he'd been the cause of growling before but never before had the two been combined to form a set of foreign sounds that mirrored an actual language.
The fact the titan had spoken to him was groundbreaking enough and then there was the fact Royce had been shot by the canon and lived.
As he managed to sit up with no small amount of groaning and huffing in pain, he immediately noticed the Predator hadn't moved an inch and was now rumbling rhythmically at him. It's shoulders shook and it's massive chest seemed to vibrate as a rumbling baritone sounded from deep within.
Sonuvabitch is laughing at me, Royce finally surmised, expression betraying his utter shock.
However, when he struggled up to find his bearings once more, the rumbling ceased abruptly. The mask dipped towards him, no doubt analyzing him as the canon ticked and whirled, the three little dots settling on Royce's chest once more.
Another round of clicking and growling instinctively told Royce that he was being warned 'not to try that again'. Royce glared back at the Predator but sighed as he finally made to stand and glanced down at his smoking chest with a look of incredulity.
The canon blast had all but destroyed his hide-leather shirt and the bulletproof vest he had been wearing and his chest was now covered in a giant blossoming second-degree burn. The pain was still ripe and he felt lightheaded from just standing up; Royce having to stubbornly remind himself he'd been through worse. The impact from the blast hadn't helped either and his lungs and ribs throbbed as a result.
Asshole gave me a warning shot, he thought and then took a step back, trying to figure out the massive alien's goal. The Predator didn't seem interested in killing him or he would've done Royce in a long time ago and certainly wouldn't have bothered with a warning shot. In addition, despite Royce's earlier aggression, it still hadn't gauged him as a threat yet.
So what did it want?
Royce had zero experience with a situation like this and the beginnings of anxiety were starting to eat at him. Every Predator he and every one of his men had come into contact with had undoubtedly wanted to kill them; from stalking and chasing, to hunting and slaughtering them one by one... if it was one thing that remained constant with each Predator, it was the desire to hunt and kill humans.
So who gave this fuckface of an alien the go-ahead to break the mold and go rogue? Not Royce, that's for damn sure.
'' Whaddya want?'' Royce asked him, unable to keep the slight tremor from his voice as he boldly met the Predator's stare.
The alien cocked his head again and then shrugged. Royce frowned at the distinctly human gesture and waved a hand towards it,'' You don't seem interested in wearing my skull as a decoration so what do you want?''
Pushing off the tree, the Predator suddenly stalked towards him causing Royce to start backing up in a panic. The colossus stopped and trilled inquisitively at him which in turn made Royce halt. Royce shook his head and shot the Predator another incredulous look hoping to convey the fact he had no fucking idea what this giant alien expected from him.
'' Not... hurt you,'' the Predator spoke suddenly and Royce gaped at him.
No fucking way... this Predator spoke English?! Royce was almost ninety percent sure he was hallucinating the whole thing by now and had no clue what to do now expect pinch himself which would be pointless because his facial wounds stung and his chest still throbbed.
Movement from the Predator caught his attention once more as the mammoth being started tapping away at the computer on his right gauntlet. A green-lit holographic map lit up above the gauntlet and the Predator motioned for Royce to come forward.
Hesitating briefly because who wouldn't, Royce finally approached and stared at the Predator and then the map.
'' Its a map of the entire fucking planet,'' he breathed in awe despite himself. The flickering shamrock green map started zooming in on their location as the Predator pressed more buttons and Royce caught sight of several blue and red blips all signaling specific locations. Most of the blips were moving around which Royce then pointed out.
'' What do those red and blue dots mean? Are they animals?'' he asked pensively, wondering if he'd receive a reply.
'' Red pyode-amedha, blue Yautja,'' the Predator answered him in it's gruff tone, then zoomed in on it and Royce's location.
Royce stared at the Predator for about six seconds before another question popped into his mind. '' What the fuck is pie-ode whatever and the hell is a Yautja?'' he questioned with a scowl. He was certain he'd heard the words 'red' and 'blue' but the other two were unfamiliar.
With a wave of it's left clawed hand, it gestured to Royce and then grunted,'' Pyode-amedha, Ooman,'' and then gestured to itself,'' Yautja.''
So Predators were Yautja, whatever the fuck that was? The name of their race perhaps? And 'pyode amedha' apparently meant human because 'ooman' sounded suspiciously similar to human. Something like that at least, Royce surmised, still uncertain about it all.
'' Wait, so the red is humans!?'' he demanded suddenly, ignoring the pointed look the Predator gave him and continued,'' I need to see the red again!''
Right now the map was settled on Royce and the Yautja's position, a single red and gold dot which he presumed was color specific to the Predator in front of him. However, if the massive alien had the locations of humans logged in it's map, it might be able to show where Dawn was!
When he tried to touch the gauntlet, the Predator gave him what must have passed for nothing more than 'swat' in Yautja-land but for Royce he might as well have been sucker-punched in the shoulder. He went stumbling backward and landed on his rear and was just about to draw his handgun when the bastard started laughing at him again.
'' Ki'cte, Ooman,'' the Predator told Royce as if the man understood a word it said.
'' What the fuck does that mean?!'' Royce shot back, not giving a damn if he was shot by the cannon again and aggravated beyond reason,'' If you can speak English, speak fucking English. I don't understand a word you say otherwise! And I still don't know what you want from me!''
He should have checked himself before he started screaming bloody murder at Death-on-two-legs but in his defense, he had gone days without a proper eight hours of sleep and was running on little more than slivers of dried jerky. He was bound to snap and snap he did.
'' What the fuck do want from me, huh? I got nothing, pal! You killed my wife and took my daughter from me so I got nothing left! If you're going to kill me then just do it already! Quit playing mind games, you big pussy!'' Royce roared uncontrollably, emotions all over the place.
When he finished his rant, he stood there panting, chest heaving and rivets of blood still running down his face. He must have looked nothing short of insane but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was done and this hulking ass-kicker of a Pred had destroyed any semblance of composure he had left.
He fully expected to be decapitated for his outburst or at the very least, blasted again but as seconds ticked by, nothing happened.
When he finally looked up, he found the titan hadn't reacted in the slightest to his outburst and stood serenely as he'd left it, mask tilted once more and gauntlet raised with the map still visible.
'' Anything phase you?'' he asked dumbly, still reeling from the fact he'd had a tantrum in front of a seven-foot alien and hadn't been gutted on the spot.
'' H'ko.'' Was the only answer Royce received who in turn shook his head and tried to reign in his temper. He was probably on the last legs of this Yautja's patience, he just knew it and sooner or later, the bastard would be trying to take his head off.
'' Hulij-bpe Ooman, come,'' the Predator motioned for Royce to come forward and the pointed at an area on the map, '' Go. More Oomans.''
Royce frowned and squinted at the map, realizing the location had been changed and he was now staring at a mass of squirming red dots that looked suspiciously like ants on an ant-hill, a large bump on the terrain that Royce assumed was a mountain. The more he stared at it, the more he started to make out landmarks and even Noland's former hideout. The mess of red blips seemed to be circulated around the abandoned alien drill site and Royce instinctively started mapping out a route in his head.
He snapped out of his thoughts when the map suddenly vanished and the Predator began walking away. '' Wait, what about my daughter?'' he yelled, storming after the massive alien.
The Predator ignored him and the camouflage was initiated as Royce soon lost sight of the behemoth. Irritated, he could find no tracks nor trace of the Yautja and as a result, he resorted to punching trees again.
'' Asshole!'' he bellowed and then after some thought, reluctantly added,'' Thanks.''
Without another word, he retrieved his fallen knife and his gear and began his trek.
There was a chance, Dawn had been picked up by some surviving humans and the thought gave him little comfort. He trusted no one to take care of his little girl except himself and after the Davenport slaughter, couldn't bring himself to trust his fellow man anymore.
He would continue his search for Dawn but for the moment, he headed towards Noland's former hideout, hoping to not only find Dawn but perhaps some help. As much as it did irritate him to rely on others, he had no other choice. The possibility Dawn was with them or at least in the area was too high to ignore.
Isabelle always did try to believe in others and although Royce kept even his closest buddies at arm's length, he could force himself to interact with other people again. After all, they all had one thing in common...
They were prisoners of the Predators and surviving was their goal.
Several Weeks Earlier... (following the same time span as the above)
Nrak'ytara hadn't intended on following the Ooman male at first.
As the Yautja sat crouched on a branch of one of the larger jungle tree's, his mask followed the movements of a single Ooman that walked below him. The male had yet to sense Nrak'ytara's presence and by the looks of things, wasn't about to anytime soon. Most Oomans went unaware they were being watched, he had noticed in his years hunting them; it was if they had no sense of caution when they didn't think they were in any immediate danger. Such a mistake usually led to getting annihilated by a plasmacaster or mowed down by a chakt-ra, a disc-thrower.
Watching this Ooman male, he did note that this one was at least careful with it's feet and the tracks it left behind. Although it wouldn't stop a Blooded warrior from tracking him regardless, at least this male was one step ahead of the rest of it's race.
When the male found the remains of his mate, the sound that ripped from it's throat shook even Nrak'ytara as he stilled and listened intently to the despairing cry of remorse and anguish. He wasn't at all surprised by the raw emotion in the wail and he did share a slight feeling of regret, seeing as the female's death was most unfortunate and unnecessary.
While he had been aware of a fellow Yautja stalking the female Ooman and her pup, he hadn't thought the Blooded would take action and kill the female; especially in such a gruesome manner. The warrior had taken his time and tortured the female, unaware of the pup and her timely escape with the Yauthound.
Such butchery would most likely go unnoticed by the rest of the hunters that kept to the hunting preserve and thus no punishment would be given for the Blooded's crime. If another warrior had witnessed his crimes against the defenseless Ooman female, he would be tried and most likely banished; to be hunted down by Arbitrators. That was if his clan was any normal functioning clan with stability and laws.
However, since no other hunter had witnessed it aside from Nrak'ytara and he knew his testimony, no matter how concrete, would most likely be dismissed by the Council and of course the fact that disemboweling females, Ooman or not, was not considered a crime, the Blooded warrior would get away with his crimes. As irritating as it was, it mattered little to Nrak'ytara; the female's death could ultimately prove useful at a later date once the pup was old enough to understand it.
Attention returning to the Ooman male, he found it tromping around looking for clues, no doubt of the killer and his missing pup. The male's sense of duty was admirable to say the least but Nrak'ytara had no intention of reuniting the male with his pup.
His plan was unfolding nicely despite the recent turn of events and now that the male had returned, it unconsciously threatened Nrak'ytara's careful planning. The Ooman would have to be relocated to a more farther and more profitable location... as far away from the pup as possible.
So he followed the male for the next several weeks.
The male mourned along the way and Nrak'ytara found the Ooman's strange sleep-fits to be most intriguing.
Although the male rested very briefly and never a proper rotation long, his slumber was often abruptly interrupted when the Ooman started thrashing and calling out. Nrak'ytara supposed the male cried out for his dead mate, perhaps seeing her at Cetanu's side and trying to summon her back to him. However miserable the male seemed to be, his determination was unshakable even when he lost the trail of the Yauthound he had been so feverishly tracking.
During the next couple of days, the Ooman literally wandered in circles.
Nrak'ytara was nonplussed to find the male had lost it's sense of direction and bearings all in one day. It hadn't been eating, hydrating or sleeping correctly hence the erratic behavior wasn't all that surprising.
It also amused him to no end that apparently the Ooman was treating him as some sort of mass hallucination. Nrak'ytara had intended to let the Ooman catch glimpses of him as to better prepare him for a direct meeting between them. Unsurprisingly, the male had gotten adequately close to his pup's location and was nearly a mile from her.
Thus it was now time to redirect the Ooman elsewhere.
However, Nrak'ytara had not been expecting to be treated as an illusion or some sort of bhu'ja. The male would stare at him out of the corners of his eyes and remain half-aware of him until he would turn fully and Nrak'ytara couldn't help but vanish, further insinuating that the male was being haunted or stalked by bhu'jas.
It was until the male stopped to rest at a stream that Nrak'ytara put an end to his mischief and settled himself comfortably up against a tree right behind the unassuming Ooman. He watched with little interest as the male washed briefly and then seemed to lapse into a mindless state.
Nrak'ytara was almost fully relaxed when the male did the unthinkable and pulled out it's knife before starting to saw away at it's own face. Nrak'ytara had nearly shot the male for pulling out the dagger before realizing the man had no idea he was there and was momentarily occupied with cutting off it's own face.
His plasmacaster remained trained on the Ooman just in case even as Nrak'ytara's incredulity and utter confusion rose to towering levels. What the pauk was this crazy Ooman doing and why? Had it's mind finally snapped under the pressure and was it trying to kill itself now? If so, why didn't it just stab itself in the chest or cut it's throat? Why slash it's own face? What was wrong with this Ooman?
Eventually, the Ooman stopped just short of sheering it's own nose off and finally seemed to notice the Yautja behind him.
Nrak'ytara tensed ever so slightly, waiting for the Ooman to charge or reach for another weapon, possibly the projectile caster on it's hip.
The two stared at each other and then the male lowered his knife only to suddenly tense back up and take a step back. The Ooman seemed unsure how to react, eyes sweeping up and down Nrak'ytara's form most likely trying to figure out it's chance of survival.
When the Ooman let out a furious bellow and charged, Nrak'ytara didn't hesitate to shoot him.
As the Ooman went flying backward and lay on the ground, groaning and writhing in pain, Nrak'ytara was thankful he had remembered to turn the charge of his plasmacaster down. Otherwise, he would have incinerated the Ooman on the spot and that wouldn't do.
'' Rediculous Ooman,'' he drawled in his native language, still reclining against the tree,'' How many more poor decisions are you going to make?''
As the seemed to realize, no he was not dead and that Nrak'ytara had no intentions of killing him, a bit of the fire in his eye's dimmed and he seemed to struggle with himself. Nrak'ytara couldn't help the rumbling laugh that built in his chest, finding the entire situation unlike anything he'd ever experienced before.
As the Ooman struggled to it's feet and glared at him, Nrak'ytara rattled out a warning that if the male tried charging again, his actions would be met with the same result. The Ooman stared at him with a mixed look of awe and confusion as if he had never been spoken to before and didn't know how to feel about it. It made Nrak'ytara wonder how Ooman's perceived his kind, whether Yautja were just giant primitive killers to the Ooman's. It was mildly insulting to be regarded as primitive by a race that was exclusive to only one planet and had yet to invest in advanced space travel whereas his own kind was far more technologically advanced and was ubiquitous in terms of space colonization.
'' Whaddya want?'' the male finally spoke, nervous and still angry from earlier.
Chuffing gently but not enough for the Ooman to hear, Nrak'ytara shrugged and tilted his head. He hadn't understood the male's words, the slang going over his head but understood the general meaning. However, he wasn't about to indulge this Ooman so he shrugged the inquiry away and started towards the male. The Ooman immediately backpedaled and Nrak'ytara stopped.
He assured the Ooman he meant no harm although he was sure his assurance went completely ignored, he got straight to the point of this altercation. Activating the mapping system on his gauntlet, he ignited the hologram and started calibrating it to find his exact position.
Attention captured, the Ooman immediately started speaking, words coming out in rapid succession, almost too quick for Nrak'ytara to follow. He did understand the man's interest in the colored dots on the map and tried to explain it to him in an effort to appease the Ooman's growing curiosity. Instead, he recieved more questions, some he didn't understand and then the Ooman became angry and indignant when Nrak'ytara didn't respond with the answers he wanted.
Then the stupid thing tried to touch his gantlet.
A quick swat knocked the male away but then it also lost it's balance and toppled over. Nrak'ytara froze and then started laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation. This Ooman was proving to be a handful and he vaguely wondered if the pup would be as troublesome as her sire when she grew up. He had to admit he was looking forward to the possibility, the idea of a scared or subservient female was distasteful and wouldn't go well with his plans in the slightest. The more rebellious and challenging, the better.
'' Ki'cte, Ooman,'' he rumbled as he regarded the seething male once more. As per usual, the male surprised him by suddenly launching into a verbal tirade of words as it stood there and screamed it's puny lungs out at him.
Yet again, most of what was said went over his head but he did manage to catch the just of the unexpected fury. The Ooman was frustrated and furious and letting him know it. He also was apparently asking Nrak'ytara to kill him which made no sense but as far as the Yautja's grasp of the Ooman language went, that is what it came across as. He also understood that the male was gravely insulting him and making far too many demands. As far as tantrums went, this one reminded him of a grumpy pup's tantrum before it's dam either comforted it or smacked it upside the head.
Eventually, the rage subsided and the Ooman just stared at him before asking,'' Anything phase you?''
Nrak'ytara considered the question and then answered,'' H'ko,'' and gestured for the Ooman to come forward once more. Nrak'ytara was neither old nor young and in his long life he had witnessed many unexplainable events and dealt with stranger things than a crotchety Ooman. Besides, his own species weren't short on tantrums and outbursts either.
'' Hulij-bpe Ooman, look,'' Nrak'ytara finally intoned and pointed at a specific area on the map, '' Go. More Oomans.''
If the Ooman followed his directions, more time would be allotted for the pup's training and Nrak'ytara would be able to spend as much time on the planet's surface as he wanted without arousing suspicion. He suspected that his sire was already skeptical of his offspring's disappearance and he didn't feel like returning to the clan and finding out whether or not the ic'jit was lying in wait with accusations or not. The more time, the better.
Finally, the Ooman male seemed to grasp the concept Nrak'ytara was attempting to convey thus he turned off the gauntlet and prepared to leave. The Ooman hollered anxiously after him and Nrak'ytara ignored him, disappearing into the forest foliage. From what he had understood, the male was still anxious about his pup and although the aching familiarity of the situation bothered Nrak'ytara, he refused to acknowledge the Ooman's request.
He would reunite the male with his pup when she was ready and fit for the next stage of his plan. No sooner or later.
Silent and watchful, Nrak'ytara remained to see if the Ooman would follow his wishes and was pleased when the male finally headed in the desired direction, away from his pup and the savanna she lived in.
Now for the next stage of his plan.
Yautja Translations:
Pyode-amedha- soft meat/commonly used to refer to Humans.
Ooman - Yautja pronunciation of Human.
Ki'cte - enough.
H'ko - no.
Hulij-bpe/Hulij-bpe Ooman - Crazy, Crazy Human.
Chakt-ra - smart disc or disc thrower.
Blooded Warrior - a ranking achieved by surpassing one's chiva and proving themselves in a hunt/battle.
Chiva - coming of age hunt.
Yauthound - the Yautja name for the hellhound.
Cetanu - the Black Warrior and the personification of death/god or goddess of death.
Bhu'ja/s - ghost or ghosts.
Pauk - fuck.
Ic'jit - Badblood/criminal or outcast of Yautja society.