It didn't take long for the whispers to start. Everywhere he went he heard them, the villagers, talking about him and his actions to save his father. Some were awed, most likely by the sheer fact he was still alive after killing an Elder. Others watched him in distain and open anger. He had been on his way to a kiosk to get some supplies for his weaponry when he heard one yautja speaking to his three comrades near by.

"That D'jilk has gotten away with actions the rest of us would have lost our heads over. Why does he get a special pass?"

One yautja piped up. "Its being said that he took Gweith's head clean off his shoulders but no one knows for certain…they had Gweith covered when they brought him out of the trees."

"My point." The first yautja snapped. "Killing an Elder? That Da'C'jit, little shit, should be half way across the galaxy right now, hiding in some shithole, praying against the Paya that an arbitrator doesn't find him."

Another yautja who was listening whacked him on the arm and nodded with his head, having seen A'luet not a stone throw away.

Four pairs of eyes stared at him, unblinking. Fuck the supplies. He turned and left. He wanted to go home but Issa and J'mper were constantly on him. He knew they were trying to soften the blow to his name and make him feel normal. Better. But it wasn't working.

In the moment he hadn't been thinking about the hereafter. His focus had been on his father, making sure he didn't lose his last parent. Yautja didn't care about such trivial things so why did he? Yautja culture: it was be self-reliant and gain honor or die. Yes they mourned losses but they didn't go out of their way to save their siblings and they never had contact with their parents. If a family member was being attacked by something the others usually went for the assailant with honor on their minds for themselves, if they saved the member of their party it was a bonus. He couldn't understand the greed. And it was greed. If Paya or someone were being attacked in front of him, he'd go for the assailant to kill them and save his cousin or who ever. He wouldn't care to take a trophy.

He found himself on the riverbank of the U'sl-kwe. Thankfully there was no one around. Not caring if the current swept him off his feet he stepped into the water and crossed it.

Skemte let the water run past him as he washed the mud off him. He could still hear Warkha laughing his ass off after he, Skemte, had misjudged the slipperiness of the riverbank.

"Shut your trap before I come up there."

It took a moment but Warkha soon took deep breaths to slow his mirth. "That's gotta be the funniest thing I've ever seen. An Arbitrator, you, sliding down an embankment on your ass."

"Yeah, yeah. If you breathe a word I'll hunt you down."

"You'd miss me."

"Doubtful."

Warkha carefully climbed a boulder, missing the slippery spots and sat. Skemte watched his apprentice swat a big fly before he submerged himself. When he came up for air Warkha was staring upstream.

"Isn't that the T'Jierk kid?"

Skemte wiped the water out of his eyes before following Warkha's gaze. He didn't respond.

"It looks like it." Warkha continued.

Skemte shook the water out of his ears and moved towards Warkha. "Move. I'm climbing up." He dug his claws into the boulder and hauled himself up with barely a restrain. "Let's go."

….

A'luet was beginning to think the scene he had seen in the woods with the Gods speaking to him had been nothing more than a stress-related breakdown. He didn't know if he could live in the village, live on the planet after what he had done. The Ancients had been alerted and told T'sey-s they didn't have interest in speaking with a Young Blood. They did call for punishment, understanding the circumstances but nonetheless upholding the law. A'luet was getting off easy they had said by not being executed. He wondered briefly what he might get. He had seen the Eta with deep scars on their backs from flogging; would he get that? Or I could self-destruct. It would be easier. I wouldn't be around to constantly embarrass the family name…my father who is honorable and has worked hard to get that respect. I've just been screwing it up this whole time. He was almost disappointed he hadn't gotten the death penalty. He looked down at his gauntlet.

"What are you doing?"

The sudden voice scared the shit out of him, having had total silence for an hour except for the relaxing sounds of the river. The arbitrator who had arrived on Kehrite de Kantra to apprehend Strangya was standing to his right, another predator with him. Where the hell did he come from?

He got to his feet slowly, knowing if he tried to run the predator would easily catch him. It's worth it.

The yautja seemed to guess his plan. "I'm not here to harm you."

A'luet took a step back, realizing he had his fingers hovering above the touch pad of his gauntlet, his device set to detonate. He didn't remember setting it to self-destruct. "Stay away from me."

The predator came forward slowly, his hands out.

With reckless impulsiveness he hit confirm, the device beginning its countdown. He couldn't hear much as he waited for the final number. His heart was extremely loud, the blood pumping through his ears deafening him. Somewhere he heard a voice, horrified, say he had started the self-destruct sequence.

Then he was hit hard, landing on his back. He tried to fight but was easily overpowered as he felt a sharp dragging sensation on his left wrist. He bucked but it felt like he was hitting a rock. He felt his gauntlet come loose and he was hauled upright and made to move. He hit his knees behind a hefty boulder just as a powerful blast splintered rock and tree alike. The shockwave came soon after, knocking his safe haven loose and throwing him backwards.

Some minutes later his hearing returned, the present coming back to him. On his left he could hear a choking cough. On his right a large predator was getting to his feet.

"What the hell-" The yautja on his left managed to choke out. "Are you fucking insane?"

"Warkha, that's enough." The other snapped, his demeanor signifying he was way older than both of them. Then A'luet remembered. He's the Arbitrator.

"Get up A'luet."

He knows my god damn name…

Shakily he got to his feet.

The arbitrator looked like he wanted to say something but didn't. Instead he grasped A'luet's shoulder to get him to move. "Come."

He heard the low murmuring in the front room as he sat in the shadows of his room. As luck would have it An'nu came home in the middle of the discussion. Another embarrassment. His offspring can't even complete a suicide.

At some point he heard Noni's voice, relaying the news that A'luet had been put on the non-reproduction list. "The Elders do not want offspring with the iss-" She stopped. Then she sighed.

"-A'luet is prone to depression. The Elders do not want that gene passed on."

He was impressed it had taken so long for the Elders to decide to bar him from reproducing. He had expected his name on that list a lot sooner.

"It's nothing you did An'nu." Strangya. "The kid has had a lot of shit in his life and he's only 17. It would be a miracle if anyone came out unscathed in every sense of the word, after dealing with everything he's dealt with."

"He really hit the self-destruct?" P'sy

A'luet hadn't realized just how many people were in the house discussing him.

"Yeah." The arbitrator murmured. "He didn't look like he was there with us."

"What does that mean?" Issa demanded.

"He was blank. No lights on upstairs." Warkha answered before Skemte did.

Silence. Then.

"If he is unable to lead you then I'll do it." Aine.

"What?" Several voices in unison asked.

"I'll do it. Kujhade is not going to wait. I understand A'luet's predicament but we can't wait for him."

A'luet got to his feet unsteady. P'sy and Kainde, who hadn't spoken the whole time A'luet sat in his room, saw him first. "I'll lead. but the whole village thinks I'm a murderer."

"Not the whole village." Noni interjected. "Just a few and the Elders know who they are. They will be dealt with."

"Great. That's going to make it look like I went and whined to you."

"It will not." Noni hissed, not mad at him. She visibly relaxed. "You aren't going to be alone in this, I promise you that."

He didn't respond, just shut his door to wall himself off.

….

Atmosphere of Yautja Prime

Three miles above ground

Village: Prime

Kujhade studied the ten volunteers through the one-way glass. By the next high sun there would be ten U'darahje to rip apart the pathetic shithole below him. Try to survive another Z'skvy-de attack T'Jierk.

"Everything is ready." Sheik-Mell appeared by his side.

"Good." Kujhade stepped away, heading down the hall, reveling in the fact that all Hish in the tight corridor quickly moved to give him room. "Drop them off tonight. And make sure they know what a great honor it is to be completing this phase in their lives."

Sheik-Mell nodded respectfully before turning and heading back the way they had come. Kujhade continued on, reaching his quarters. Lazily he looked at a large computer he had mounted to his wall that was supposed to be the link between him and Aine. There was still no word from her. It was looking more and more like she was a turncoat. Deep down he wasn't surprised. At some point he had known her yautja brain would kick on. He was impressed it had taken 24 years. He had expected a lot sooner. Never one to take the blame, he focused on J'agannath as the root of his problems. He should never have let Aine and the predator get as close as they had. J'agannath had taken an interest in the little girl almost immediately after Kujhade had taken her away from her home. He should have seen it then. But I didn't expect him of all people to become a traitor to his race.

…..

The before….

"What are you going to do with her Kujhade?" J'agannath's question was soft.

Kujhade half turned to face his second-in-command and then surveyed the child sitting on a rock just out of earshot.

"I'm working on it."

"Well work a little faster."

"Excuse me?" Kujhade faced the predator fully, unbelieving at the disrespect.

J'agannath was unperturbed. "You just killed her mother. Who knows if the woman was part of a clan... we don't have time for you to work on it."

Kujhade felt a tug on his weapons belt. The two male predators looked down to see she had left her seat. For a split second he was impressed he hadn't heard her move. How much had she heard? Kujhade wondered. She had to have been in earshot when J'agannath mentioned him killing the lou-dte Kalei. Maybe she was too young to understand. That would be best-case scenario.

"I'm hungry."

Did he really want to be saddled with this D'jilk, to be responsible for her until she was self-reliant? No, he didn't want that but he was a firm believer when it came to 'making your bed and lying in it.'

He became intensely aware that J'agannath was staring at him, waiting for his answer. He resisted a growl.

"What is your name child?"

"Dekna-Payai."

It was a beautiful name even he had to admit, but if she was to become solely his then even the name had to be his. He'd change it later.

"Have you hunted before Dekna-Payai?"

The little girl cocked her head. "I've watched." Her eyes strayed past them and into the darkness of the jungle; in the direction Kujhade knew her hut had been. "Is Ma'da coming?"

"No." Kujhade's reply was short. J'agannath growled lowly in response. Kujhade resisted telling him to shut up. The girl had to learn at some point. Life wasn't rosy. Not in his world. "Your mother is not coming back Dekna-Payai."

He expected some immature whine to come from her, a temper tantrum or something; but she simply stood there, her eyes ticking between him and J'agannath. He could feel the hole his comrade was burning though him with his gaze but he ignored it. Well at least he lucked out with being subjected to a whiner. She seemed like she was accepting her fate, though some small piece of him felt a twinge of guilt. Was it guilt though or annoyance at the predicament he had put himself in. He should have left the bitch alive. Knock her around, break a few bones, maybe even make her have to eat her food through a wooden straw, but he shouldn't have killed her. It was his stupidity and now he had to live with it. At least he now had someone to hone, mold and twist to his liking. She was going to be his star. Maybe the bitch the lou-dte Kalei being dead wasn't as bad as he thought. Time would only tell.

….

All was well in Kujhade's eyes. He noted the girl who he named the Ooman name Aine grow closer to J'agannath as she grew older. There were many times he had to resort to using the ship's camera system to find her, only to spot her somewhere on board with his second-in-command. The training room, the mess hall and even once or twice in the predator's quarters. Suspicion growing he made sure to be around her more just waiting to take that whiff of his musk on her, but it never came so he relaxed. It didn't matter long anyways because when she turned 12 seasons J'agannath explained things had changed and she wouldn't be allowed in his living area anymore, it wasn't anything she did it was just the way things had to be. At first she didn't understand but she soon noticed the lust in the eyes of the Hish males around her; telling Kujhade he nor J'agannath or even Sheik-Mell (if he wanted to) would be able to protect her for long. The rigorous training began. Hours he made her work, eventually getting comments of veiled concern from J'agannath. Kujhade was quick to ask the predator if he was ready to beat half the crew off of her come her next cycle. He already had locked her in his rooms once to keep her away from the hungry Hish. He needed to know the girl could take care of herself.

The yautja had the asinine rule of when killing one of their own kind resulted in the killers being branded bad bloods. The Hish didn't concern themselves with such nonsense. So when Aine appeared in the control room splattered in phosphorous green ichor, Kujhade felt admiration not horror when it came out that she had killed an overly aggressive moron who had tried to jump her. Ci'tde had had his wandering eyes on her for months. He didn't feel bad booting the dying predator out of the pressurized chute into outer space. He hoped it took a long time for the asshole to suffocate. What did make him pause was her angst over the whole affair. She didn't speak to him for a month, barely left her room. When she did leave she was always in the company of J'agannath, eventually planting a seed of resentment. What drew her to him? Kujhade didn't know; he still hadn't figured it out. What puzzled him even more years later, as she had grown into a well disciplined and accomplished killer; she intervened during J'agannath's execution. She had seen the betrayal and the immoral slap against everything a Hish stood for, there wasn't any rule J'agannath hadn't broken during those few months. The ship doctor had said in some males the killer gland grew weaker as they aged, that information in mind there was no other explanation to describe his top officer. The Hish simply lost his thirst for blood almost over night; in fact the night Kujhade kicked the sniveling Ci'tde out into space if he was remembering the events correctly. He should have had Aine forcibly removed from the room and let the execution go as planned. If he had he wouldn't be faced with this new treachery. It was his fault if some washed up radical had swayed her. It was he who listened to her plea to not kill the heavily injured predator, he who let the traitor bleed for the night in the Cage. With a gross displeasure he found the Cage empty the next day and the predator in Aine's hard metal tub, unconscious. Aine blamed him openly, her anger sparking his own fury. She told him to leave J'agannath alone and that he Kujhade, had done enough damage for one night. Honestly he had expected the piece of C'jit to die from his wounds, that being the only reason he left the traitorous C'jit in Aine's room but the gods never favored him. In less than a week rumors went around the ship like Mi, fire, that J'agannath was awake his memory ravaged and unable to move.

Staring at the blank computer screen he found he was starting to regret having the communication link blocked, just incase it is true…she would never do that to me…. He was curious as to her location, what she was doing. Maybe this whole thing was nothing more than hysteria. He cursed Sheik-Mell. If that moron was wrong in any way he'd be either sharing Ci'tde's demise or J'agannath's. And if I choose for him to go the way of J'agannath, Mas-T'Eall will splatter his brain around the room. I heard he still has a killing aim. It had been some time since Kujhade had hunted and pillaged with the Hish so he was merely going by a second party account, but he was willing to see for himself.