Disclaimer: I do not own Predators. OMG! I left you hanging in the last chapter. And though I'm completely evil to Rh'anka, I'm not mean to readers. So here's the next chapter. Hot off the metaphorical press.

Chapter 9

Chaos ensued.

Fighting smoke and the gut wrenching smell of burnt flesh Trinity tensed to launch herself into the arena from the Councillors seating area. A firm hand stopped her. "Trinity stop."

"Rh'anka she could be hurt!" She shouted above the roars of pain below, her blue eyes darting in frantic hope to see through the grey smog and to find a red skinned yautja.

"Others will go," Mik'ail nodded to several Arbitrators and Elders over Trinity's struggling body. "You have other responsibilities now."

Trinity lashed out at her Battle Mate, her claws drawing blood along his forearm. His grip never faulted, but his eyes narrowed. "She's my sister!" She roared, wanting to follow the yautja males who had just jumped to the arena below.

There was no clang of weapons, or the searing sizzle of lasers, there was only barks of identification as the guards and arbitrators moved through the smoke. Clearing ground and confirming who had survived.

Rh'anka, nor Kallum had been mentioned yet.

"Trinity stop. Let others go. Wait." He pulled her into his arms as she continued to struggle, starting his calming purr.

At first she tensed, but then relaxed, sinking into his warmth. Letting the vibrations take her worry, take her fear that her sister, their Matriarch had died.

"Can someone turn on the Pauking ventilation!" Gem'nax roared as he propped himself off the ground after being blown to the floor by the force of the explosion. He pulled Elders that had yet to stand from the metal ground before looking into the smoke.

Within seconds of his command a slight hum started before the smoke started to twirl into rising spirals at various points along the roof. Claws digging into the railing, it was Ti'tan that spotted a sandy yautja first as the smog dispersed.

Elders and councillors together, concern at losing their hope marring their brows and raising their tressels, turned at Ti'tan's bark and followed his pointed finger to below. "Kallum!?"

Ignoring the death the explosion had caused, Trinity watched as Kallum ignored his name that was both a question and a thanks to the gods. He was searching like them. Wading with a limp through ripped off body parts and cold, lifeless bodies to find even a glimmer of red skin.

"Where is she?!" Trinity shouted from the platform, fighting the soothing lull of Mik'ail's purr.

Kallum turned at her question his head shaking in denial.

It was Jaduq that surprised them all, "Gem'nax," his hand came down on his co-councillor with a growl, "work with the elders and get as many yautja too the Medica as possible, save as many as possible."

Gem'nax didn't question the Keeper of Spirit, bowing his head and leaving the platform clicking furiously to the elders that followed him. "Ti'tan," wide gold eyes clashed with Jaduq at the name. Trinity could feel the sorrow within those gleaming depths. He had been on Yautja Prime the day it had been invaded by bad bloods. Had lead several guerrilla attacks against bad blood occupied cities and towns. Unquestionably he had seen just as much blood as Trinity and Rh'anka, it was beyond skin deep. A part of his soul. "Make sure this is the last and only bomb."

Within that second and the next Ti'tan had disappeared, jumping to the blackened arena below. "Mik'ail," he pointed to Trinity, "get her out of here and safe. Even if that means off Red Prime. Call back every warrior, every arbitrator in the universe. Red Prime is under attack."

Hissing, Mik'ail didn't obey straight away. "You surprise me Joduq. You've never spoken this way before." Although the councillors questioned his decisions, all respected his experience and wisdom when it came to governing and guiding the Yautja Clans. After all he was the only remaining councillor from Theia's rein as Matriarch.

Brown eyes eyed the brown and green mottled warrior in front of him, "This was how it all started thirteen years ago."

"The invasion." Mik'ail nodded in agreement, pulling Trinity in tighter on impulse.

"Firstly," Trinity growled and wrestled her way free from the binding grip of Mik'ail, both her palms held high to show him she had calmed down, "I'm not leaving Red Prime so shove that up your laser cannons. Secondly, we need to find Rh'anka. If we can't, we might as well kill ourselves now. We need a Matriarch."

Jaduq nodded slowly walking to the railing and gripping it as his mandibles spread into a roar, "Kallum, find her, whatever it takes! Whatever you need!"

The response was tort with stress and other emotions, the search to find the red skinned yautja in the aftermath of the explosion a failure. Their Matriarch had been taken from them. "I need Fluf."

Ooo

Before Rh'anka had opened her eyes she knew several things. She had been beaten. Her left mandible and the roots of her tressels were throbbing from being dragged, bashed and broken. She had been cut. A large portion of her blood drained through various incisions and slices along her skin. The dizzy, full-headed feeling between her ears and behind her eyes attested to that. And she was a prisoner. The metal links around her tender wrists and ankles stopping any escape.

She knew these things purely because she had lived through hundreds of these awakenings as a prisoner of the Bad Blood King.

The beating kept her in pain. The blood loss made her weak. The bindings stole her hope.

Gods, if she hadn't had the memory of Kallum's nibbling teeth along her throat, or his vibrating purr pressed against her heated core, she would have broken in the split second it took her to realise these things and open her eyes.

But the memories were fresh, not twelve years old. She would not be the same prisoner they remembered. The fire Kallum awoke inside of her burning in fierce delight. She would be ferocious, she would be merciless, she would be relentless.

Piercing light shone from above her, hurting her sensitive mind, causing her to flash her eyelids close before re-opening them slowly this time. Her vision landing on the grey skin of her first born son. "Hello Mother." The greeting was hissed, pointed teeth gleamed in disgust under flared mandibles. Thick black hair strands with silver links shook in menace. A metallic glint stole her attention, her eyes resting on a single handed battle axe hanging loosely by his side.

Rh'anka sighed low, letting the threatening demeanour of her son wash over her. "Greetings Kil'ton." He was every bit the man his father was. Grey skin, thick tusked mandibles, insane eyes. Mika and Ed'war had more of her in their genetics. One red with grey patches and grey eyes, the other grey with red patches and green eyes.

The male yautja in front of her hand been completely devoured by his King. Even his green eyes were slowly being swallowed by a grey rim. She didn't even use the name she had chosen at his birth. Killum. He was too far gone to deserve that name.

"Why am I here?" Rh'anka asked as she looked around the room.

With shelving and various curved hooks, she knew it was a trophy room she was being held prisoner in. Behind Kil'ton lay a door that would lead to a basic living area. They were still on Red Prime. Muscles she didn't even know were tensed suddenly relaxed.

"You are here to serve punishment for the murder of our King." Kil'ton clicked matter-of-factly as the battle axe rose and he traced a claw along its cutting edge.

Mandibles pulled up in a smile, Rh'anka clicked, "That's what I mean, why am I not dead?" Not that she objected.

The growl was low, "I watched you that day."

"What day was that?" Rh'anka was quick to respond. "The day your father killed younglings and fed them to the jackles? The day he took Oomans sexually against their will and then slit their throats because they held undesirable genetics?"

"SILENCE!" Kil'ton mandibles flared in a spitting roar, the sound as deafening in the confined room as the explosion that had knocked her unconscious.

Wiping the saliva off her face, Rh'anka's green eyes narrowed on the yautja that loomed above her.

"I watched you and that pathetic Halfling kill my father, our King." Kil'ton hissed.

"Trinity can't be that pathetic if she defeated your father in battle." Rh'anka pointed out with a crinkle from the chains that bound her.

A blink and Kil'ton gripped her right mandible tight, his axe held high before falling in a clean swipe.

White heat surged though her jaw and into her mind. All Rh'anka could do was scream. The pain rolling her mind into a frenzy of memory as she thrashed on the floor. Hopelessness flooded her mind. She had never escaped the Bad Blood King. It was all a dream. A lie to survive. She had been here all along. The King was still here in front of her.

No! The single affirmation echoed through her mind before feral thoughts could sink in their claws. She had escaped. The King was now dead. This was her son.

"Consider that a warning." Kil'ton growled, " the video I watched showed you chopping off his head."

Pain subsiding, Rh'anka peered through clenched eyes as she observed Kil'ton playing with her mandible as if it was a throwing knife. Blood was everywhere, her mouth, nose and down her chest. Rh'anka spat the green liquid onto the floor in front of Kil'ton. "Thanks for that, I was thinking of giving that mandible a trim."

Rage incensed by her brave and rare sarcasim, Kil'ton roared again, his axe rising high in the air. Hungry for her neck.

"Kil'ton." There were several thundering knocks from the other side of the door.

Freezing Kil'ton barked harshly in response, "What?!"

"Reeka is in position." The clicks were short and sharp, informative nothing else.

A swinging hand hit the control panel of the door. Sliding open to reveal another regret. Her second son. "Is the retrival team ready to go?"

Ed'war nodded and Kil'ton continued jerking his head toward her. "Stay with her, if she talks, cut off her head." And then he was gone, taking her mandible with him.

Rh'anka didn't care. Another battle scar to prove she was a survivor. Besides she still had three left. The amputation in a way would make her look even fiercer when it came to battling and hunting. She would be an unstoppable force. If she got out of here.

No! The affirmation was back, her mind quaking under the strength of that single word. Not if, she thought glaring up at the warrior, when. "I'm guessing you saw your father die and want revenge as well?" Rh'anka's question finished with another spit of blood.

To her surprise, Ed'war shot forward, crouching low to stare intensely into her eyes. Green. They were so green. It was like looking into her own eyes. A mirror.

"Quiet Mother, we haven't much time. You need to tell me what you know about the Gguk Clan and the Bad Bloods."

One blink. Two. Before Rh'anka barked out into a fit of huffing laughter. Her severed mandible still sore, but ignored. Never in her wildest most secret dreams had she been asked this question by any of her children. Yet it had just happened. "Even if I tell you, you won't believe me. It will just be a waste of breath." She finished on a snarl, her laughter forgotten.

Ed'war rose to loom over his mother, "I would like to know."

Rh'anka sighed, the sound a tired flutter from the heart. "Tell me why."

Stepping away from her, Ed'war fiddled with a hook before turning back and fixing her with deep green eyes. "Because you are right, I did watch a video of my Father's assassination by your hand. But I have watched other things over the years." He paused taking a deep breath. "I have watched my Mother being publically shamed, beaten and tortured. I have watched my sister being beaten and tortured after I disobeyed a battle law. I've watched thousands of Ooman females die and thousands of Halfling younglings cut down for being too slow, or too scared. I've heard screams that twist my stomach and curl my toes. And even with the passage of time, still ring in my ears. I continually ask myself, is this the Gguk Clan? Is this true honour? All this blood and death?"

Now he crouched down in front of her, his clicks becoming quiet, almost a whisper. "And then yesterday my sister tells me that she's met another female yautja." Pulling a white fabric from a pouch on his waist, he offered his Mother a bandage for her bleeding mandible.

Rh'anka nodded in thanks. Ed'war continued. "How do Bad Bloods have a female yautja when they've completely destroyed all females of our race?" The question was hissed, his frustration from confusion.

Every click melted the ice inside of her, she wanted to reach out and give him physical reassurance. But stopped herself. She had never dared to hope to have this conversation, yet here she was. Her second son in front of her. She didn't want to ruin it with unwanted contact.

Finally she would speak the truth and he would listen. Not because she was screaming it at him, or even begging him to understand. But because he had asked. He had taken the first step. And she found she could offer him nothing but truth.

"The answer to your question; is because you have been lied to your entire life."

"Then tell me Mother," Ed'war huffed, "before I come to my senses." He stood crossing his arms with a growl, "Who are the real Bad Bloods?"

"You are."