Late, I know, more than late. Apologies,

Enjoy,

M.


Chapter 8: The Stalker

"… I can assure you, the xenomorph I described has been in this establishment. I believe he would be most likely known as 'Flinch Spacey'…"

"Dunno…" grunted one Bouncer.

"Your information ain't good…" replied the other, shaking his head.

A'ka'an-dra sighed impatiently. He had spoken to numerous patrons and staff of the Bounty Board Cantina, as this was the most logical place to start. But logic flew out the window when it came to the two large, meat headed security guards bouncing the stairwell that lead to the upper levels of the Bounty Board; where the money was made.

"How much is it going to take…?" asked the freelance Yautja Operative.

He sighed again when they didn't respond. Creatures of this kind usually only responded to one sort of stimuli, the physical kind. This was something he wanted to avoid for the most part, flooring the two biggest bouncers in the place would do nothing to aid his search for information.

"Look, there is a contact of mine, an intelligence asset, to be clear…"

"Ain't no intelligence assets here…"

"Ain't no fuckin' intelligence neither…" A'ka'an mimicked the bouncers slow, simple accent. "What…? Nothing…?"

"We don't like your type comin' round here and stirrin' shit up."

"My type…? Yautja…?" A'ka'an-dra cocked his head slightly. "Or can you actually define the differences between varying social castes?" He knew he was starting to wear on one of the walking slabs of meat at least.

"Do yourself a favor…" the same bouncer started. "… No one is gonna talk to you in here. Just go get yourself a drink and enjoy the night. No one has seen any bugs round here tonight, 'specially ones with a blue head and a dust coat."

"But you have." A'ka'an smirked. The pleasure of intellectual victory almost made it worth the trouble of dealing with them.

"Wha…?"

"I only mentioned the suspects' marking on his head, not what he was wearing. Though, thank you for speeding this whole process up."

The two bouncers traded semi-confused looks as the cogs churned slowly inside their heads, trying to decipher just exactly what was unfolding before their eyes.

"That is correct… You just dropped yourself in it. So before I start spreading rumors about how certain staff here cannot keep 'client' information as quiet as they are paid to, how about you let me upstairs and we can just agree that this whole thing never happened."

"But… I… Wha…"

"Thank you gentlemen. Have a pleasant evening." A'ka'an nodded, wearing a smile obscured by, first his mask, then the large hood of his recently acquired traveling cloak.

"Uh-Uh…" grunted the grumpier looking meat mountain, clasping onto the rear of A'ka'an's long traveling cloak as he pushed passed the guards. "We said you ain't goin' up there, and you ain't goin."

A'ka'an-dra quickly ducked out of the cloak, leaving the bouncer standing holding the garment with a surprised look on his face. The Yautja male's armor looked even more foreboding in the low light. He stepped lightly toward the towering security guards, probably something they weren't very used to.

"This is not going to end well for anyone…" A'ka'an spoke in a low, authoritative voice, "I do not want to hurt you, but preventing me from achieving my objective is a hostile act. I assure you; no harm will come to the being I seek."

The guard holding the Yautja's cloak made to lunge at him again, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks.

"…That's the Stalker they were talking about before… Just let him go. His word is his bond." The remaining bouncer scowled begrudgingly as he tried to convince his partner. "That's how they work…"

After a tense moment of hesitation, the burly guard backed off slightly and tossed A'ka'an-dra his cloak with a flick of his wrist. The Yautja male nodded to them both before swishing the long garment over his shoulders and heading off up the stairwell.

"Thank you. You made the right choice…"

There was a strange bouquet of scents to be sampled as A'ka'an-dra neared the top of the stairs. The lust was strong enough to make his eyes water. As he crested the landing, the nomad operative concentrated his senses; the unique overtone of Kainde Amedha met his palate as he neared the first door. He filtered out the various noises coming from nearby rooms, trying to pick out anything specific from the distasteful babble of over-enthusiastic coital moaning.

A'ka'an's vision sharpened as a lone U'lon female emerged from a room at the far end of the hall. He didn't break stride nor show any sign of interest. Remaining completely stoic, he walked right by the tall, light blue skinned female, taking in her scent as he did so. Even through the various fragrances; soaps, perfumes and the like, there was something familiar: Xenomorph.

A'ka'an turned silently on his heel and stepped back toward the U'lon female.

"Excuse me; I wonder if I could trouble you for a moment of your time…?"

"…Ah not now. I am off the clock." She answered in an almost forced tone. But as she turned and got a better look under the hood of A'ka'an's cloak, she drew a startled breath and tried her best to find some sort of composure. "Sorry…"

"Thank you for answering my next question." A'ka'an-dra nodded, indicating back toward the room she had emerged from with a wave of his hand. "Now, if you would please accompany me for a few moments of your time. No harm will come to you. You have my word."

"…I… Wha…" The U'lon hesitated, looking from A'ka'an's masked face, toward the stairs, then back to the Yautja.

"Do not signal them. It will do no good for anyone. Please, I merely wish to ask you a few questions."

The U'lon female sighed and hung her head as she walked back toward the room she rented while working at the Bounty Board. She had heard something about a rogue Yautja at the races earlier that day; she prayed that this was not the one…

"… Daksha Too'leta…?" questioned A'ka'an-dra as they walked through the door.

"Yes." She answered with a simple tone, making her way toward the bed in the center of the room.

"Stay right where you are." A'ka'an raised his hand. "I know you have concealed weapons here. It would be unwise to try anything, so I will prevent you from it now." He beckoned her back toward him. Her hand clenched, and with an aggravated huff, she half-turned back toward him.

"What do you want…?" Her icy tone and hard eyes covered the rising alarm she felt.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully." A'ka'an-dra replied, removing the hood from his head. "Tell me everything you know about Flinch Spacey…"

"How do you know that I know this 'Finch Spacey'…"

"Because this room is abound with his scent… As are you." replied A'ka'an, tilting his head slightly to one side, letting the provocative features of his mask do the intimidating for him. Her eyes lost the veneer of cold confidence as she realized that pleading ignorance was not an option.

"Look… All he wanted to know was about the Entak Crew… I think they have a hit on him or something…"

"They do. I accepted it." He replied simply.

"…Wha… You're going to fucking kill him…?" she asked, in disbelief. Her mind boggled at just how fast things were unraveling around her. Was this her fault…? She may have wanted him out of her life, but this is not what she meant.

"I have not decided yet. Possibly."

"Why…? You don't look like a run of the mill merc… What's in it for you, apart from the pay?"

"No more questions." A'ka'an-dra held up his hand. "Did he tell you where he might be going?"

"N… No he didn't tell me anything." She looked at her feet, emotionally stunned as she fought the tears that threatened to well up. "P…Please don't kill him. He is a pain in the arse, a pain in everyone's arse, but…"

"Tell me where I might find him, and I give you my word, no undue harm will come to Flinch Spacey." A'ka'an interrupted.

"West…" The U'lon hesitated for a moment. "He probably headed west; he knows a lot of places to hide out that way…"

"Good Evening, Daksha Too'leta."

With a flick of his traveling cloak, the strange Yautja was gone.


A'ka'an-dra knew the U'lon female was lying about Flinch heading west. It was written all over her scent. She may have been able to talk her way around most people with a flash of cleavage and a bat of her eyes, but she couldn't control her scent. Daksha may have had some 'special talents' but that wasn't one of them.

The nomad operative made his way down stairs, pushed back through the crowded cantina and returned to the further crowded intersection outside the Edridion Prime market place. He tilted his head toward the clear night sky and took a long breath. A'ka'an wasn't expecting to scent anything out of the ordinary, he just wanted to get the taste of lust and Jooba cigarettes off his palate.

He made his way out onto a semi clear siding near an alley that ran behind the Bounty Board Cantina. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe it was fate, maybe it was something else, but one thing or another drew the Yautja male into the dark alley. He walked slowly, his razor sharp vision analyzing everything, with each step a surge of hunting euphoria sang in his veins. A gentle breeze wafted through the laneway, kicking up scents from the ground. The smell of urine was to be expected considering the location, but the fortunate surprise was the unique redolence of rogue Xenomorph.

A'ka'an-dra moved closer to the external wall of the neighboring building, following his well-trained senses. To his right, there was a large open window at chest height. The rabble of noise from the Bounty Board Cantina increased as he neared. He raised his head, looking up the wall where the Xenomorph scent was stronger. The hive guardian had climbed the wall in effort to escape, no doubt after making his egress from the window.

He could have expelled energy and actually scaled the building, or even forced entry and climbed from the inside, a more stealthy option. But, what was the point…?

A'ka'an turned slowly on his heel and walked softly back out onto the main street. The noise and bright lights returned as he stepped back into the semi-clustered flow of bodies. He walked until he came to the next alley, parallel to the one he had emerged from moments before. Slipping back into the shadows, the nomad operative keyed into the unique scent almost straight away.

"Well that saves some time…" A'ka'an-dra mumbled under his breath, sighing softly as he looked back into the Main Street. "And that… will not." He scowled under his mask.


The nomad operative had been tracking his target along the main stretch of road, winding in a semi-northern direction through several suburbs for more than an hour. As well as several stops at random bars, Flinch Spacey had paid visits to several twenty seven hour weapon and ammunition stores. Whether any of this had been a deliberate attempt to avoid capture, or simply a means to be able to look back out into the street without making himself look suspicious, who knew?

A short while later, A'ka'an-dra came upon the more tightly populated intersection where the main street veered to the left, leading toward Edridion Central. There was an extension of Main Street, continuing on straight ahead toward the more Northern Suburbs, at a guess, this was the way Flinch Spacey would have gone. All the decisions he had made so far that evening lead A'ka'an to believe this would be the most probable route for his target to take.

The crowds seemed to dwell around this area. Popular bars and numerous eateries saw to that, especially this time of night. The nomad operative moved as quickly as he could up the footpath, picking his way in and out of the throngs of bodies. As A'ka'an approached what appeared to be a rather prevalent establishment, he made to push past the queue waiting to get in when the door suddenly erupted outward with startling force. The two security guards were both knocked several meters out into the street, as were several other bystanders. At first A'ka'an-dra thought it was an explosion, but there was no heat or scent to indicate such a thing. The guards and civilians were fine, just a little taken by surprise.

His mask instantly shifted operating factors as its control system detected the change in A'ka'an's biological readings, reconfiguring into offensive mode. He began to analyze the latent change in his surroundings, scents, debris, the blast radius and the dazed creatures that lay inside of it. Instinct prevailing, civilians became his priority; he quickly stepped into the clearing dust, moving closer to assess them. A great deal of the injuries that were sustained were nothing more than a few bumps and scratches at most. He continued to survey the wreckage, checking for any more survivors; that was when he saw it.

Amongst the rubble and scattered reinforcing of the large, double door frame lay a being like A'ka'an had never seen before. Ignoring the commotion that was unfolding around him as other bystanders started to involve themselves, he stepped cautiously toward the apparently unconscious being. It was imperceptibly reptilian in appearance, yet humanoid in stature. As the dust began to clear, A'ka'an-dra got a better look at the creature. Possessing a clearly female physique, the unconscious being lay on her back amongst the debris. The coverings she wore appeared to be some sort of thick animal hide. The cut of the attire hinted that it was intended for increased movement over anything else, though by appearance, one would get the message that she wasn't overly shy about showing herself.

As he bent down over her, the Yautja male brushed some of the dust from her exposed shoulder, revealing the vibrant, true color of her skin, or now that they were not covered in dust, scales. The peculiar female was covered from head to toe in millions of tiny scales, each perfectly encompassing the next. A'ka'an-dra cocked his head slightly in question. He took pride in his knowledge of a great many species, but he had heard nothing about a species such as this. His attention shifted to her face as he detected her breathing rhythm increase. He took note of her prominent features; her eyes were set in a classic reptilian tilt with a hardened bridge of scales forming a hairless brow, a short, yet distinguishable muzzle, the grouping of tiny scales around the parting of her jaws darkened perceptibly.

Those jaws parted slightly as she drew a long breath. Her chest swelled upward, and without warning, her eyes snapped open.

"You smell a little funny for a Yautja…" The voice was light but somewhat husky.

"Given that you know the base scent of my kind, and I did not know yours existed, I will extend my greetings, though not without curiosity…" He looked down through his mask into her bright golden eyes, his hand outstretched.

"Perhaps some other time, Mister Mysterious. I have a few things to take care of…"

The extraordinary looking female reached out, clasped her hand around A'ka'an-dra's forearm, and pulled herself up with amazing strength. As she pulled herself out of the layer of rubble, the nomad operative's eyes widened under his mask as his surprise peaked again. The female brushed some stray chunks of dirt from her left shoulder before slowly unfurling a large pair of wings that had been previously hidden by her position and the layer of building waste. She lightly shook herself, generating another cloud of dust that was exaggerated as she flicked her wide, leathery wings, debris and larger clods of dirt falling from the folds of strong, gristly hide.

"Ever had a jagged-ass stone in your boot…?" she asked, ignoring the surprise written all over A'ka'an's scent, as well as his body language. "Trust me when I tell ya, its worse when you get one in your wing…" she finished with half a smirk and turned back toward the bar.

Slowly batting her wings once more gave the Yautja male a clear view of her back as she took a step toward the exploded entrance to the bar. Before she pulled them close to her body, A'ka'an-dra saw her reach around with both hands and pull two short baton like weapons that hung from the rear of a utility belt around her waist. Just before she disappeared into the destroyed opening, the winged female flicked her wrists, activating a pulsing electrical discharge from the end of the weapons. A'ka'an heard her voice over the growing babble as beings starting rushing in to help.

"…Now who taught you boys how to treat a woman…?"


"… Fucking disgusting monsters should be annihilated from existence! Dammit, why am I the only one here who is saying what we're all thinking!"

"Christ…! Sit the hell down human!" spat the bartender. "Before someone pulls your head off…" he mumbled, his eyes rolling with frustration as he opened a fresh beverage and sat it on the bar for Flinch to grasp when ready.

"No! Just… No! I have seen what these things do! They are the very evil in this universe we should be fighting to wipe out! Something all species have in common is that we're not as corrupt and soulless as these giant monsters!"

One thing Edridion lacked, surprisingly, in excessive quantities around the built up areas was humans. A fact that made this densely populated hellhole a literal haven for any creature that saw, unfortunately, no end to the human species' hypocritical bickering. Flinch was no stranger to narrow minded critics laying down the blame on his shoulders. But humans? They express it the most, and find no end to it. Apparently mortal fear is no match against pure human stupidity.

Flinch had always hated the Yautja for what they did to his hive, and do to his kind. But, humans he despised far more. Not only for their selfish ego's and destructive nature, but their inability to see the wrong in their actions and repeatedly blame complicated problems on others rather than themselves. Xenomorphs especially seemed to be the prime target of their extreme, fairy-tail style hatred. It was widely joked about, by most of the more dominant species', that because humans have such poor senses, they tend to judge all things off first appearances, and humans were very fussy when it came to the appearance of anything.

Flinch could accept being called a bug, hard meat, or other belittling words that are more nicknames which annoyingly enough stuck to his race. But a monster? Such a word always crossed his tail, even more so when a human said it. But after a tiring day of losing money, nearly being killed twice or three times, selling out a friendship, and being forced to hide out in the overcrowded Eye of The Yard saloon, the rogue guardian simply couldn't be bothered putting this harsh, vocal critic in his place.

"…These monsters kill innocent beings! Young or old…!"

Although… if he kept this up...

"I suggest you sit down human. And keep your thoughts to yourself." The bartender spoke as he resumed tending to the growing lines of customers around the large bar. The Eye of The Yard wasn't renowned as one of the more friendlier establishments; in fact…

It was probably the worst…

As Flinch's only line of defense moved to tend to customers, the human began to croak more and more, working himself and the posse he was with up.

"Look at you. Simply despicable how you take the lives of the innocent and breed your maggoty kind around the universe like a plague." the smuggler said as he lowered his tone and showed his teeth, expressing all the anger for both himself and Flinch. "You know what I think?"

"If you could think quietly, that'd be real nice." Flinch said as he took a sip from his drink. Not even acknowledging the smuggler by looking at him.

"I think the devil himself is behind your creation. Brought you along to exterminate happiness from the very fabric of time; the only explanation for your inexcusably inferior monstrous state."

A few seconds of silence passed as the human smuggler and his posse made ready to open fire on Flinch, who was clutching his drink tightly. He thought for a moment about giving into their demands and simply killing the lot of them, but after waiting a few more seconds Flinch began to chuckle quietly with a small grin on his face.

"Man, I've heard some bullshit in my time. But damn. The devil huh…?" Flinch said as he continued to chuckle, slowly facing the smuggler as he rested on the bench taking sips from his beer. "Just to be clear, the devil is a human creation, shit head. So for all intents and purposes, humans are to blame for sour Xeno-Human relations." Flinch smirked as he finished his drink, displaying a very cheeky grin on his face.

The smuggler simply glared at Flinch with great contempt. No doubt he would dress up this story differently to his peers, as humans always do.

"Now that your fucking preaching has come to a halt, I suggest we part ways before the devil tells me to eat the hearts of some piss weak little humans." Flinch said with a change in tone, his playful cockiness now replaced by dead seriousness.

Without even the slightest warning, he suddenly flung his empty in the air and smashed it with the very tip of his tail blade, displaying his superior speed and strength. The sound and sudden movement startled the smuggler and the rest of his cronies, finally convincing them to keep quiet and move on. Flinch kept his senses on them as they slowly moved into the chunks of outlaws and slowly disappeared from sight and scent.

Feeling he had successfully put his harsh human critic in his place, he turned back to the bar with a proud smile on his face. There was nothing Flinch enjoyed more than beating a human, accept maybe a Yautja.

His cocky smirk faded after a few moments when the realization of the impending danger he was truly facing came creeping back.

He shrugged.

No matter; Flinch Spacey was hardly one to let his enemies see feelings of fear or anxiety displayed on his eyeless dome. That being said, it wasn't an easy task to actually read his emotions, and that's the way he liked it. He would rather go down being as stubborn and crude as possible rather than let anyone get the satisfaction of seeing his deepest feelings expressed.

"Hey! I need tending to!" Flinch huffed as he supported his weight on the bar bench looking for someone to serve him another drink. Drinking seemed to be his only plan for the rest of the night, until whatever happened, happened. The likelihood of someone actually tracking him into The Yard was pretty slim; he had done a good job of covering his tracks.

As Flinch waited to be served, he couldn't help but smell a familiar scent, that of a female. He awkwardly turned around, trying to hone in on the soothing smell, which proved to be difficult after a few drinks. After gazing for a few moments, he spotted a pair of legs he remembered being so elegantly wrapped around his waist; the Tel'shak female who tried to get with him at the Bounty board earlier that day.

A slow grin began to spread over his face as he watched her through the crowds of oddball scumbags. Her tail flicked slowly and gracefully. She was seated at a rather large poker table that was being used only by herself and the lucky fella she was occupying. Seeing her working hard encouraged Flinch to actually devise a plan to turn her attention to him.

"Another cheap glass of piss insect?"

"Please, something fancy. And give me two of it." Flinch grinned as he dropped a good amount of hard currency on the bar, not taking his senses off his target. "Make one of them dirty…"

The Tel'shak female, while cunning in her work to indulge the male mind in any pleasurable scenario of his choice, couldn't keep her poker face from expressing her true feelings for the scumbag she was entertaining at present.

Boredom.

Her eyes flicked from one meat sack to another around the large bar room, trying to locate a more exciting target. Anything would be better than the piece of shit sitting in front of her.

"You about ready to call it a night fella…? Others are waiting for their turn." She said with a powerful, commanding, yet soft tone.

Before her customer could even answer, he was sent off his chair with a well-timed flick of Flinch's tail. Being as drunk as he was, he never knew what just pelted him to the floor with such abrupt power. He mumbled something and gurgled as his consciousness faded.

"This seat taken…?" Flinch grinned as he picked up the chair with his tail, holding both drinks. He never took his eyes from her as he scooted right up to the Tel'shak female with a typical 'Flinch Spacey' level of persistence.

"Well if it isn't the insect millionaire, who has so thoughtfully graced my day with his presence once again." The Tel'shak said bitterly as she folded her arms, though graced her tone with a small smile. Clearly her excitement for him had drained, after a long day of hard work most likely. She simply waited to be paid before saying anything else.

Flinch kept his act up to please her as he sat a rather fancy looking glass of mixed expensive booze in front of her.

"Don't ask me what it is, I haven't the slightest fucking clue. It's bloody expensive though…"

"Is that supposed to impress me…?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That depends. Does it…?" Flinch grinned as he took a drink from his glass and tilted his head slightly at her. "I'd never forget a body like yours babe. Sticks out like a flower in a Yard of shit… See what I did there…?" The rogue xenomorph almost laughed at his own pun.

"How witty… But I doubt you can afford me now Mr. Spacey. The botched main race has no doubt taken your rich status from you…?" she taunted, keeping her smile at a minimum.

"Maybe some cash here and there, but my irresistible charm stays untouched. You can't put a price on that girl." Flinch chuckled as he sat his drink down.

"I can. Eighty credits up front, or don't bother wasting your time here." she replied without hesitation.

"Normally an introduction would go something along the lines of: 'I say my name, you say yours'." Flinch added as he learned forward, watching her like a predator watches his prey. His tone changed the conversation into a debate rather than a 'pick up'.

The Tel'shak simply silenced a comeback and tried to be obvious with her position by looking at other possible customers. Flinch picked this up quickly and dropped his smile only slightly. He didn't have anything to give her for payment besides his weapons, his clothes, or his drink. He scrambled for an idea to get her to stay, but nothing noteworthy came up. And he really didn't want her to walk away.

Before she could get up and leave for other ventures, Flinch accumulated a risky venture to keep him company, if just for a few seconds longer. As the Tel'shak went to stand up, she was treated with something that no one can really prepare for, a passionate kiss on the lips by a xenomorph.

Her eyes widened with shock at first, as xenomorph were usually very reserved when it came to physical contact, but after a few seconds of silence as the smooch was held up, she gently pressed her hands to his shoulders, urging him back slightly so she could see him.

Flinch kept quiet for a few seconds, knowing the silent treatment could help with picking up ladies. But to boost his potion more, he tilted his head, shrugging as he sat back in his chair and took a drink from his glass.

"Luttya. That's my name. And you wait right here while I clock off." she said with a genuine smile as she quickly got up to end her work for the day. Her hand slid along his purposely before she moved off past the crowds to end her shift early.

Flinch watched with a very proud grin on his face. At least his way with women was going well today. But, one thing he found himself thinking more about was the predator punk he bumped into while leaving the scene of the sled races. This was the only consequence that Flinch couldn't seem to figure out; Who the hell was the fancy predator with no smell? Flinch did have a tendency to overreact at times, but not often. He always saw himself more as laid back when it came to every day dangers he had to face.

As Flinch tried to think with all the noise and yelling amongst the crowds, he firmly asserted to himself that such a close call wouldn't ever happen again. So, he might as well drown his incessant 'danger' instincts in indulgence.

"So tell me, Mr Spacey. Why are we so persistent in grabbing my attention?"