Chapter 7

A'sao saw the Bad Blood and two hounds strolling along, heading through the jungle. She heard scuffling in the crevice and her biomask indicated the ooman was alert. The image scanner was new, thanks to Vi'su and her 'unique' talent with technology, helping to hear the ooman's panicked heartbeat. Her concern, though, was with the Bad Blood. She needed to keep him alive to find information, should the initial Hunt for the Leader fail.

She tightened her bow, loaded an arrow and kept sights on the ic'jit. The hounds searched, one going ahead while the other stayed with its master. A'sao bit a mandible when the hound sniffed at the crevice. Why am I concerned? She shouldn't be worried about the ooman, he was on his own and she had a mission to take care of.

Strangely and so suddenly, the Bad Blood and the hound left. Surely he noticed something was wrong. But then again, they aren't the brightest.

When they were gone, that was when the ooman came out. He was smart to wait in the crevice and look for danger but he was too slow to realize they hadn't entirely left. A'sao watched as the ooman battled for his life, instincts carrying it to swipe at the beasts. It was done, or so show thought, until it managed to release from the hounds and crawl back into its hideout. The Bad Blood must have lost interest in the fun because he began to blow the entire ground with his shoulder cannon, a sloppy attempt to get his prey out.

It was then the ooman made a break for it. So much for credit that it was brave. Typical . . . Oomans have been known to shoot and escape instead of fighting till the end. She hoped that this one was different but it didn't and it was going to die like prey.

The hound and Bad Blood had it trapped . . . and the ooman knew it. Of course, the Bad Blood began mocking it with the loop recorder. It won't be long now.

But then, something happened.

Instead of running, the ooman loaded its burner and ran towards the Bad Blood, screaming in defiance. There was no fear in its eyes, prepared to die fighting like any honorable Yautja warrior would. A'sao never expected this but she knew there was something special about this ooman.

Something . . .

But even with such a display of honor and courage, its efforts were for naught. The Bad Blood had set a trap for it earlier and got the ooman right in the middle of it. Now, it was hanging and ready to be killed, skull and spike ripped away in a bloody victory. A'sao's fingers were shaking. If she didn't do anything now, the ooman was finished. Showing mercy would be inexcusable for a hunter, but she had the Bad Blood off guard. So she had a choice . . . Either the ooman or the Bad Blood.

The Bad Blood and the ooman exchanged words, the yautja snorting, "Brave, Soft Meat. But stupid."

It was a long pause until she was amazed that the ooman spat right at the Bad Blood, "Fuck you."

She widened her eyes. The angry in the Bad Blood burned like fire, raising its blades in retaliation, the hound snapped in anticipation. Instinct drove her to act. She raised her bow, pulled the arrow back and let it go.

Within a second, the Bad Blood fell to his knees, his screams of agony rattled her with joy. The arrow was made with special metal that could pierce through anything, so flesh was nothing but butter under the blade. The Bad Blood fell like a boulder, holding his shoulder. Now's my chance!

She leapt from the branch, barely feeling the scratches from broken branches as she extended her dah'kte down. Although she was certain of victory, fate had other plans.

The Bad Blood tilted his neck enough that the blades left only a scratch, twisting to grab her forearm and throw her over. Hissing, she clawed into his arm, forcing him to let go. Both sides at a distance, glares and growls exchanged.

"Lou-dte kalei!" He pulled out the arrow, throwing it away, "You've come for us at last?"

A'sao snorted, "Overdue but your clan won't escape this time. Your deaths will be our victory and I will spill your thwei as easily as I've done to those before!"

The Bad Blood cried the nan-de than gaun, thrashing his head toward the air and arms stretched out before he charged. Quick to the point, huh? He thrusted his blades and pulled out a knife in one hand, the male had points for keeping his ground and not running away, either he was brave or very stupid to challenge a warrior and a female no less. Regardless, he made his decision. And he'll regret it.

A'sao and the Bad Blood met blade-to-blade, sparks obscuring the vision in their masks for a moment as they separated and then clashed again. She was impressed that the impudent male had some skills and audacity to challenge a female Yautja, much less a hunter. Props for talent, not much in common sense.

After a few long seconds of the same old moves, she was fed up with this Bad Blood. Time to finish this. With a swift and decisive kick to the stomach and the Bad Blood flinched, she seized the opportunity. She unsheathed her bow and aimed for his head, one shot would be enough to break the mask and pierce his skull. The male, realizing his doom was coming, screeched. It didn't matter, the Bad Blood was done for.

Right as she was about to release, the kurn charged from the side and snapped its jaws around her hip. She clamped her mandibles in pain before swinging the beast away, firing an arrow into its skull before it could recover from its tumble in the dirt. Stupid mutt!

The Bad Blood came at her swiftly, knocking her bow away and managed to plunge his blades into her stomach, twisting with a chuckle of satisfaction. It was bad but not deadly, the wound oozing almost into a constant flow, creating a pool of green underneath but it would be the last move the Bad Blood would make. As soon as she lifted her head to stare down, there was no doubt he was caught in her trap and knew she was grinning underneath her mask.

A'sao grabbed his neck with her massive hands, almost making him a small toy in her perspective. She roared as she used all of her strength, twisting back and forth, feeling the tendons and ligaments snap like string, bones snapping against each other. The Bad Blood gasped his last breath right as she ripped his head and spine from the body in a rain of blood and guts, howling her victory with overwhelming pleasure.

It lasted a few moments before her wounds started to sting, the adrenaline slowly fading away. Ignoring it, she picked up her bow and attached her prize on her back as she sighed. There goes my information though but a good trophy.

She stood up, holding a grunt. Now, what about the ooman?

She saw it was still dangling but not attempting to break free. She thought it passed out but noticed the shock on its face. If it had that reaction, she wondered what it would do when it saw her approached.

A'sao walked slowly toward the ooman. Its pale face and brown hair swayed across, looking while trying to pry its ankle free. Her concern was that it was bleeding badly from its shoulder, the crimson liquid already forming a pool and spilling across, any longer and it may not survive.

She clicked her mandibles and the ooman froze, fear written on its face. Where did that bravery go?

Thinking that the ordeal might have stunned its process to think, A'sao had to be careful. If it still had some fight, it was going to do everything it can to survive. To ease its fears, she stopped her advances, lowered a little and raised her hands.

The ooman paused . . . and she waited.

Ethan thought he was going to have a panic attack, witnessing a fight that made all of his experiences in the battlefield look like roughhousing between children, pathetic and sloppy. This creature was built to fight, to hunt, and to kill with such brutality that he feared he was next, facing a worst punishment that his pursuer. Seeing the bloody head and spine on its back terrified him.

I need to get out. Now!

Ethan worked on the rope around his ankle but no matter what, it was too tight for his fingers. If he hadn't lost his knife back with the other aliens, he would have been freed. But as he thought of an alternative, he heard it click. He froze as the alien took another step. Shit! It's coming!

Suddenly, it stopped, lowered to a crouch to meet him at an equal level and held its clawed hands. Confusion had taken over his mind for that second. What?

It was bigger than the others, staring down with its mask that had red stripes over the eyes, wore armor like a hunter with weapons he couldn't identify, had reptilian skin was decorated in a yellowish tan. It had abs that would put any man in shame but he was surprised when it had breasts. A female? Really?

She didn't appear hostile, her posture was one of curiosity and interest. The female kept her hands up and took a slow step, a cautious move to show no harm. Ethan stopped, wondering what she was going to do next.

"Qui es-tu?"

He did a double take off what he heard. It was deeper but he knew the accent. He studied the language and was fluent in it, but he was too shocked to respond.

The female tilted her head. "¿Quién eres tú?"

Ethan thought he was in a scene of some movie. He was talking to a female alien hunter who spoke French and Spanish, asking him who he was. His mouth opened and shut.

What the fuck do I say? Hi, my name is Ethan and I don't want to die. Sure . . .

The female pulled her head back, making the clicking sound again until she suddenly spoke, "Who are you?"

That clicked into his head. She spoke perfect English, almost as clear as day. Ethan shook his hands, shaking them in a 'no' gesture. "What . . . do you want?"

She lowered her hands and took another step. Ethan tensed, hands tightened into fists. His heart racing like he ran a marathon; not good when the blood is rushing through one's head.

The female stopped, probably sensing his distress. After a minute, she tried again. If she had wanted to kill him, she could easily do it. Taking the effort to communicate indicated she wanted to talk. Is this a joke? A false pretend to lower my guard?

She pulled out two serrated blades from her gauntlet. Ethan thought he was going to be proven right about his last thought, cut like meat being prepped for butchery.

"I won't hurt you." She was calm and collected as she approached. Ethan relaxed a bit by her words but stayed wary.

In a flash, she cut the rope and Ethan fell hard. It was bad enough that his head got the brunt force, the pain returned to his injured shoulder like a motherfucker. He closed his eyes to deal with it, almost ignoring the fact that he had a seven foot alien with him. He scrambled to his knees and looked up.

She didn't move, almost still as a statue. Ethan took the uneasy truce to catch his breath and put as much pressure on his shoulder. The female seemed to wait for him to calm down.

He swallowed, "What do you want?"

She didn't answer but stepped closer until she was a few feet away. Ethan kept his eyes vigilant as she suddenly went down on one knee. His eyebrow raised. What is she up to?

She pointed to herself and then gave her hand, "Not going to kill. You will not be harmed."

It was nice—somewhat. The female made it clear she didn't intend to do anything to him. She seemed curious but about what he didn't know.

But at least she won't kill me. Maybe.

Her clawed hand hung between them. She was different from the rest he encountered. Maybe there's more of them that are different? It could be valuable to have someone who may know what's going on and how he came to this planet, much more if he's lucky to find a way out of this horrible place. If he stayed in her good graces, perhaps he might become a reality. It was a hope that he clung on tightly.

With slight hesitation, he stretched his hand and let it come closer, fingers barely an inch away. He was about to go against what common sense told him but then again, that wasn't a lot in a world thick with the smell of blood and death.

They were barely about to touch when an encompassing roar sounded from behind. Ethan had a second turn around when the female deflected a knife aimed for him, spinning aimlessly away. He grabbed his rifle from the ground as the female growled, displaying raw aggression at something.

That was when he saw two more hunters emerge from the jungle, both obviously female like the first. Unlike before, these two appeared to come for trouble. Ethan didn't like this one bit.

Now what?

NOTES:

Normal = Human speaking human (ooman) language

Bold = Yautja speaking ooman language

Bold and Italics = Yautja speaking Yautja language

Qui es-tu?/¿Quién eres tú? = Who are you? (in French/Spanish)

Dah'kte = Wrist blades

Ic'jit = Bad Blood

Lou-dte kalei = Child Maker (insult)

Nan-de than gaun = Kiss of Midnight (no mercy)

Thwei = Blood