Sorry that this has taken so long to get out to you guys, house hunting has eaten up quite a bit of my time. I hope you guys enjoy.


This was the most difficult female he had ever fought. She knew what she was doing; she hit all the right places, and she hit hard. More than once had he been brought to his knee by a well-placed strike to his lower legs. She was trying to get him to the ground where she would have the advantage, and every time it seemed he barely managed to stand to his feet and snatch the opportunity away from her.

It was hard, it was tiring, he hurt, but never had he been so excited. The harder she fought him, the more he wanted her, to the point it was almost unbearable. She came at him straight-on and he anticipated a frontal attack, but did not expect his grasping arms to grapple air as she ducked beneath his hold and delivered a solid strike to his middle, forcing the air out of his lungs. She dashed out before he could react to grab her, and danced on her toes, moving to the side.

It took him a bit to recover, longer than it should for his breath to return due to his aching need. He kept his arms up in a defensive position, claws bared, ready, in case she made to attack again while he was faltering. As an unblooded he was always taught to not simply barrel over a female for her inexperience in fighting and take her. He did not even have that option here.

Still, he couldn't take any more of this; his desire was painful at this point, never mind the growing bruises and bleeding wounds. But every opening she gave was a trap, and every weakness she expressed was a lure. It seemed impossible, but he would not give up, perhaps the direct approach would be best. Roaring in the face of his prize, he charged straight-on, the only approach he had not tried. His thick arms wrapped around her body, sweeping her off the ground. Seemingly stunned by his sudden blatant attack the female was taken several feet backwards before her back was slammed against the ground.

He could feel all the fight leave her body as it was pressed beneath him. Instead there was only the quick fevered breaths she took, the rising heat of her body, and the near-audible pounding of her heart. He lifted himself up until he was looking down at her. She looked at him, her strange alien eyes, bright with heat. Too-soft fingertips ran across his neck, teasing the edges of the rings there. He raked his own claws down hers and down her collarbone. She did not look away from him as his hand travelled down her chest and to her trembling stomach. She smiled in that strange human grimace, as his hand lifted away and his fingers curled against her stomach, releasing his wristblades straight through her heart. She continued to smile, even as hot blood flowed from her mouth.

Jar-hidda's eyes snapped open and the room came into focus instantly, he could feel a small warmth against him and could hear breathing. For a terrible moment he didn't recognize where he was, thinking he was back in one of the rooms of the females he mated.

When the inside of the room of his ship became recognizable, his heart finally leveled out to a steady rhythm. He turned towards the sound of breathing. Hannah was asleep next to him; somehow she had slipped into bed without awakening him. Not good, he shouldn't sleep that deeply, it was dangerous. He shifted up and slipped off the edge of the bed, walking over to where he saw his kilt on the door to the shower. He wrapped it around his waist and moved to go clear his head.

His steps lead him to his training room. He heard the sound of the light come on that slowly heated the skulls so that he could see them. He moved towards them, looking at the ones that were recently broken that he had fixed. Purring in pleasure at fond memories he walked down the wall to where Hannah's two skulls were. The she had done excellent work. Though without his mask his vision was not very good, when he had seen it, the work had been flawless.

The larger reptile, that had denser bones and had been spared from the crash, brought a chuckle from the yautja. When the reptile had rolled to throw Hannah off of it, it broke nearly every bone in her body, but it had caused her spear to be pushed entirely into its body. A fluke? Maybe, but Hannah's kill nonetheless.

Walking back down the wall he stopped before the skulls of the warriors of Jh'uda-tjauke. He lifted his claws and ran them against the smooth bone. He wondered, when it came time, where he would put Hannah's skull.

Jar-hidda snorted and shook his head. Hannah's skull would not be here. If she died it wouldn't be by his hand; it would be wrong to take her skull, he would give her a warrior's funeral and burn her body so no animals would defile it. He turned abruptly from the wall to the weapons. He removed his glaive, feeling the small notch that caused it to extend. Without delay, and forgoing the reverent rituals beginning his practice, he swung into battle with an invisible foe.

This foe was Garv, and his mind projected the arbiter before him. Garv was below-average in size for a yautja, but he made up for it in skill. He was well armed; in addition to his wristblades, hidden blades on the clan leader's legs would give him the advantage if Jar-hidda played it too close. He employed a fighting tactic using the sharp end of the glaive only, keeping his distance, thrusting and striking. He anticipated Garv's moves, moving back when he tried to get close. Jar-hidda danced this way until he left an opening for Garv to take. The leader stepped forward to strike with a blade on his knee, but Jar-hidda turned the glaive from its angle and stabbed down, pinning the leg to the ground. A decided victory.

Next Scenario. Jar-hidda walked to the side, swinging his spear from the ground. New opponent. He conjured to mind Fireblood, the brute appearing to stand in the middle of his trophies, smug, mandibles spread. A larger opponent needed to be handled differently than a yautja of standard size. He honed his focus. He had fought with Fireblood many times before, he knew his style. Despite his large size he preferred the shuriken and would make this a battle of range if he was allowed it. Jar-hidda needed to get in close.

He began with a lunge, feinting to the side and spinning away from the counter attack, and the returning of the spinning blade to its master's hand. He didn't immediately attack directly, feinting again to another side, maneuvering him to further sideways. He waited until he saw Fireblood's footing slip to the position he needed, lunging with his glaive held horizontally, smacking the yautja high across his chest with the shaft and toppling the behemoth. He allowed Fireblood to rise; he was not done with him yet. The threat he made, to take Hannah from him and keep her as some exotic toy for his desires, burned in his mind. Naturally he may have been joking, as Fireblood was known to have a strange sense of humor.

Once his opponent stood to his feet, Jar-hidda attacked again, this time a true frontal assault, and he was relentless about it. He danced from side to side, striking on the vulnerable sides were only the mesh protected his body. A well-placed strike to his knee caused the giant to stumble but not fall. Strike after strike, Jar-hidda slowly bled his opponent until he whipped around and thrust his glaive forward.

The tip of the weapon had stopped just shy of the muzzle of the strange lizard creature. The animal was a black mass against the metal of the ground. Jar-hidda's mandibles slowly closed over his mouth as the creature tilted its head up towards him, calm and unafraid. Commendable traits. There were many times that Jar-hidda had wondered and imagined; if only the creature was larger and more aggressive, it would have made excellent prey.

The mocking laughter of the giant taunting him for his distraction rung in his ears, even only in his imagination.

This trip had not been worth it. The answer he had received from the high-eldress was unsatisfactory. A human may earn respect of the other sain'ja from hunting, but would only receive status if they went on a chiva. That was the case for Little Fighter. For Hannah, because of Jar-hidda's status of clanless and unblooded, wouldn't have status from a chiva anyway.

That on top of the fight he had with Fireblood where he had to flex his skill to put down the male after his threat, and having to mate several consecutive females as a result, made this trip more than a waste of time. And that was bleeding into his dreams, dreams that should be of hunting, fighting and mating, not the disturbing mess with Hannah that had awoken him. And now he was on edge enough that Smaug was able to sneak up on him. With a snort he withdrew his weapon and retracted it, returning it to the wall. He needed to get off this planet, go far enough away to calm down, but before that he had to trade for the repairs done to his ship, and see if his requested item was complete.

Pressing a sequence of buttons on the panel under his weapons, a part of the floor slid away. It was where he kept his broken and too-small weapons and armor. It was from this stockpile he had crafted everything that Hannah now wore minus the two kilts. It was also here that he kept the shrinking pile of human weapons he had taken from Hannah's home.

He lifted the wrap he kept them in and inspected what was left. He knew little of the modern human weapons but he knew the name of the long-barreled rifle and the shorter but broader shotgun. There was one left of those each, and three of the smaller firearms. He wrapped them back up and took the bundle onto his shoulder. He closed the compartment and stepped to the door. The lizard was still there, still looking up at him.

The yautja bent and scooped the angry, hissing, creature from the ground, walking back to the room. Hannah was still asleep, something he would have to reprimand her for later, but for now he set Smaug down on the bed beside her and turned to leave. Maybe she would stay asleep through trading and he could be up in the air and away from this place before she awoke. That would be the easy way, payas permitting.

He stepped out of the room and down the hall. Walking out of the ship was pleasant, the smell was expressly noticeable. Not that Hannah's scent bothered him, but a place that smelled distinctly yautja, without the high level of pheromones that a strictly male-populated ship had, was nice. It was dawn for this world; he could feel the temperature of it on his skin. Now what he needed to do was find Garv and get the trading done for the repairs, and hopefully never need to visit this place again for as long as Hannah lived.