The Champion
"It is coming."
The Adamah's words were simple and direct. Everything about him was that way.
"I'm searching." She replied simply. The scope mounted on her rifle whirred as it adjusted automatically.
The next day they were out doing what he called "foraging." Looking for anything; food, supplies, weapons, anything that could be useful. It was a large game preserve, with lots of dangerous things in it.
"It's trying to lure us out." He hissed.
To her enormous relief she had slept through the night unbothered in that odd thing he called a drill. She was able to stay awake and vigilant for most of the night, but eventually she moved into another room and slept. When she awoke the Adamah-the other human-was gone. She was worried at first, but he soon appeared. Unharmed and expectantly looking at her to join him for foraging. A madman like the doctor probably would have tried something by now.
So she found she could trust him, at least a little bit. That didn't change the fact she knew nothing about him. Not even his name.
He scope and eyes adjusted automatically to the figure in the gloom. Tall, angular creature.
"One o'clock, one-hundred meters."
"Take him!" the man ordered, the creature disappeared into the mist again.
"Damnit," she grunted, hefting her rifle.
In her mind she called him The Adamah, which meant 'the human', and a slight pun on his regular habit of coating himself in mud, or Ish, which simply meant Man. He did not ask for her name. She had yet to ask for her his.
It had been a busy morning.
The Man's eyes narrowed. He glanced at her, and then stepped out of the jungle.
"What are you doing?" she hissed in amazement. He glanced at her coldly, "Don't miss." He said simply, and began to run.
The dark angular shadow sprang after him. The Woman did not hesitate. Instantly years of training and experience kicked in. She began tracking, focusing, she had the creature in her sights, she mentally adjusted for her target's speed, she timed to shoot between her heartbeats. Her aim was perfect. Now.
She fired the angular creature dropped. Isabelle kept her eye focused through the scope, then glanced up, a sigh of relief in her throat. One that was not quite ready to be exhaled.
The Man appeared from the jungle. Not the slightest bit of fear or regret marred his features. He looked down at her with his cold eyes. "Nice shot." He said. There was sincerity in his voice, but there was also a lack of care that seemed oddly disturbing to her. She rose gracefully from rice paddy position, and dusted herself off. The Woman knew then that whatever this Man was he was not afraid of death. He had no fear.
0o0o0o0o0o
"So, you got a name?"
It was not the first time she had asked this. It had been earlier this morning when he brought her out of his "home", but he had not answered. He changed the subject, informing her of the exits, where she could go to relieve herself, all the practical things she needed to know living there. Then they had climbed up to the "roof" and watched for any landing ships. A pointless little ritual he liked to keep up.
For some reason he did not feel to answer. He was relieved to have found another person, he admitted that to himself. He just wasn't sure he wanted to start making attachments.
He wasn't a sociopath, he knew that. He also knew he could be cold ruthless and uncaring. He was sure she knew this by now.
Yet still she asked for his name.
He didn't want to deal with this. Not now, maybe not ever, but something inside of him told him he would have to.
The Man changed the subject again. "We're almost there."
The trees were in fruit, he had noticed that a few days ago. This was tropical jungle, so there didn't seem to be much in seasons, still different fruit would come in and different times of the year. Now he had an extra pair of hands to help him harvest.
"Breakfast." He told her. He almost smiled, but did not.
They worked through most of the morning. They both kept their eyes and ears open. Just in case the creature she shot wasn't the only thing lurking about. The sun slowly, but steadily grew higher. The woman wiped the sweat from her forehead.
After eating and gathering the Man led her to another part of the valley.
"There's a series of caves there. Could be something useful in them. Let's check it out." She followed him without another question.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
He watched the pair with interest. He had lost track of them for days and days, but eventually he found them again in "his" game preserve. He knew most of their hideouts by now. He could find them now only in a matter of hours.
Of course he would keep this information to himself, not share it with the other hunters. If they wanted to hunt them they had to do it on their own skills and merits. He didn't think any would catch them. Perfect.
Nor was he saving this information for himself. He was the oldest and therefore most knowledgeable hunter on this moon. He knew its territory and no doubt he could find them anytime he wished, and he stood a very good chance of hunting and killing both of them, but that's not what he had in mind.
He had herded the huntress, the Quiet One, into this valley. He had to put down a damn fine hunting dog thanks to her, not to mention the injuries he had sustained at her hands. What a lovely trophy her delicate skull would have made on his wall! But he had restrained himself. If he was younger and more ambitious he doubted he could resist.
When, at his insistence, they had healed the other one, the fierce wiry one who fought at every other opportunity, he had visually examined him. Now he knew for certain he was male. He had long known their sexual dimorphism was the opposite of his species, still he had made sure. Then he moved to phase two of his grand plan.
One day, he thought, he would remembered as a great genius for what he would do, like the great ancestors who had discovered their hunting companions, like the ones who split off from the weakling false hunter race, taking only the fiercest hunters and biggest females with them. He thought of the deeds of his fathers, great warriors, farseeing visionaries. When his plan came to fruition he would be looked upon with the awe the hunters had for such great ancestors. Not to mention the female attention…he felt his mandibles curl with pleasure at the thought.
After all when one lived as long as he hunting lost some of its savor, he needed, another way to secure glory and honor, this way was perfect.
There was one flaw though, one that caused a shadow of unease to pass through him. The male, the fierce fighter, had such a reputation he was still attracting inordinate attention. They were planning another hunt, sending in a champion. He was glad the female was with him now.
He tossed his head, feeling his long mane sweep across his back. If the male was worthy, he would live. If not…well there were more of them were he came from.
0o0o0o0o0o0o
At night she dreamed.
She dreamed of shooting, she dreamed of Isaac. She dreamed of being watched from the shadows, of a bright light. She dreamed she was flying over a vast expanse of stars of being unceremoniously pushed out of a ship. She was falling again. They had taken her.
No.
But she was helpless; there was nothing she could do.
No.
Soon the hunt would begin again.
"NO!"
"Hey, hey, relax, it's just me."
The Sniper jerked awake, ready to fight in an instant then relaxed. In the same instant she took in her surroundings, it was only the Man. She studied his now familiar features; the long nose, the thin angular face. At first glance his eyes were dark, shadowed, now she saw they were a light color, hazel. His eyebrows were up in what might have been worry. But it was brief, his expression soon settled again. Gently he removed his hand from her shoulder.
The Woman groaned as she sat up. He stomach felt as if it might rebel against the dinner of wild fruit and rice they had discovered (the only useful thing of their foraging) but she repressed it. She delicately took a sip of water. The Man sat back on his heels and studied her neutrally.
The Sniper knew he was being silent for a reason. She was uncomfortable. After she finished her drink she stated only the obvious. "I was dreaming."
"Yes I know." He said dryly in his rough voice. She felt like snapping at him but restrained herself.
"Did you know what I was doing when I was captured?" She asked suddenly. He made no response, just continued to stare at her.
"I was on assignment when my spotter, Isaac, was captured. I could have tried to save him, but if I did I would have been killed along side him. So I hid, stayed silent, and saved myself. Now I wish to God I would have pulled the trigger."
He wasn't touched by her little confession. He shrugged and helped himself to more rice. "You do what can to survive."
She leaned. "That's not what I meant."
"Well, what did you mean then?" He asked with a hint of irritability.
She lowered her eyes for a moment. Then stared directly into his cold hard eyes. "What I mean is that this life we've been living, hunting aliens and gathering fruit is going to end soon."
He felt the rice turn hard and sticky in his throat. He swallowed it, hard and tried not to let it affect him.
"Things are going to get much, much worse for us."
He stayed silent, and it wasn't because of disagreement.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
When he came all knew of it.
Even the Elder respected his skills, even though deep inside of him he wished to see the arrogant one fail.
Purger, hunter of the strange and exotic, father of multitudes. Undefeated.
The Champion.
He came because of the rumors, rumors of an abundant source of conflict and prey here. He came because he heard of one creature that could give him a decent challenge, and of course add another trophy to his wall. He swaggered in and demanded details.
The other younger hunters, in awe, told him of all they knew. There was a creature on the Game Preserve who hunted like them, took trophies like them. He stole their prey, sometimes right out from under them. He was small, compared to a Hunter, and scrawny by their standards. But all who had tried to hunt him had been killed or come back to the bas ashamed and disappointed. He evaded all traps, avoided all hunting dogs. He fought and won, and lived.
They called him Da'bade, the Knife Blade. Thin but sharp.
Immediately the champion went to bragging. Of course he would kill this creature; of course he would mount his skull and spine on his wall. All he needed was time, and not even much of that.
The Elder watched his unknowing foe with detached skepticism. What a braggart. Of course he had no shortage of things to brag about this Champion, but the way he did it, his unseemly crowing about himself. The Elder found it distasteful. The young ones were even worse, little sycophants, and he detested the name "Knife Blade."
The Elder was a Hunter of many surprises he had one in store now. No one else knew of Quiet One, or his plans. But he had one more surprise in store for "the Champion."
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A/N: I had pretty bad writer's block on this one but I think it's gone now, hopefully. I decided to split The Champion into two parts, so sorry, action packed stuff is yet another chapter away.
By necessity some dialogue has to be lifted from the movie. I hope you won't take this as plagiarizing.
Reviews will be appreciated!