Disclaimer: Ooman is the sole work of blacktalon117 and the producers of the movies

"I will teach you to follow orders, young blood!"

Ti'kon slammed K'on against the wall of the ship so hard his head snapped back. Time may have passed since K'on had made his mistake, but his punishment was just as relevant now as it was the day he had made it.

After he had taken care of his female, and the ship had broken through the atmosphere. Ti'kon put the craft into autopilot and turned on K'on. He must learn from his mistakes if he was going to be a strong warrior.

He grabbed the front of the young bloods chest plate and threw him to the floor. K'on hit with a resonating thud, face down, the fog around him separating.

This carrier vessel was seven decades out of date, and the environmental controls still created the mist that came up to his knees. If the ship was more modern the dramatic fog would not be an issue. For Ti'kon this just pointed out how long the Oomans had been in possession of their technology. . . too long.

K'on tried to get up and Ti'kon pushed him back down with his foot.

"You deliberately disobeyed a direct order form your elder, and for what?"

Ti'kon pushed down hard, taking the wind from the young blood's lungs.

"For your foolish pride. For a few more useless moments in discovered hunting grounds. And what did your actions cause young blood?"

"I'm sorry," K'on panted, trying to get oxygen in his lungs.

Ti'kon removed his foot, only to kick him in the side, making the Yautja grunt.

"What are you sorry for young blood?" He roared.

"I'm sorry. I know I was stupid, but I wanted more trophies, I-"

K'on was cut off by another powerful kick to his ribs, making his body arch in.

"A true warrior is worth more than his trophies. A true warrior values honor and integrity. Has skills born in the heat of battle. He is brave, shows no fear, and values discipline."

K'on curled more into himself, tucking his head in.

"If you want the respect of others and the attention of females, you have to be more than just your trophies. There is a fine line between being brave and stupid, and you crossed it young blood, by not heading orders. Get up."

K'on struggled to his feet wearily.

"Do you understand?" Ti'kon asked.

"Yes, elder. I am sorry."

"Good, but on another matter," he reached for the young blood, clasping his shoulder.

K'on flinched, but did not move away. "If it was not for you, we would not have found the other warrior, the ship, or the Child maker. She would still be in the ungrateful hands of her own kind, being tortured. For that I owe you my personal thanks."

K'on relaxed beneath his grip, and placed his own hand on Ti'kon's shoulder.

"I am glad you could salvage something from my stupidity, Uncle."

Ti'kon laughed, shaking his nephew lightly. "So am I. Now, go check on the lone warrior. Make sure he still breathes. I will try to pilot this backwater vessel."

"Should I check on the female as well?" K'on asked.

The elder only just managed to restrain his territorial growl. The young blood would have never offered such a thing only a day ago. He knew he was being unreasonable, but he didn't want another male near Dahdtoudi, even if it was a young one.

"No, I have already seen to her."

"I'm sure you have."

Ti'kon turned to reprimand the young blood for his insolence, but he had already left the control room. He would have to speak to K'on about holding his tongue later.

He turned back to the controls, taking a seat, watching the stars whiz past the observation window. He would have to compile a report on the last weeks events, and submit it to the the clan's High elder, the only Yautja Ti'kon took orders from. But his shoulders felt heavy as he took note of all the primitive controls. He had failed to protect his female. A filthy Ooman male had held a gun to her head, then he had been careless, and not noticed the collapsing walkway until it was too late. She had almost been killed, and if she had died during their escape Ti'kon wasn't sure if he could ever forgive himself. The relief he felt when he scanned her with his mask and found her heart still beating was great.

He had taken care when seeing to her injuries. Washing the gore and blood of the battle from her skin, before mixing up a soothing medical paste for her damaged tissue. He had applied it carefully to her face, where the Ooman male must have hit her, trying not to prod the inflamed skin with his large talons. He held the torn flesh on her skull together, stapling the wound, before applying liberal amounts of paste and bandaging her. During her treatment he also noticed that her wrists were cut and slathered the paste there as well. Her body was covered with scars, and now she would have a few more. At least theses were battle scars that she could be proud of. When he finished he put her in a bed he intended to claim for himself later. She had slept with him in the cell, and he intended to continue the practice.

He heard a soft noise behind him.

He swiveled in his chair to find Dahdtoudi standing waist deep in fog. Blinking slowly, her eyes scanned the control room, before they fell on him. She should not be up and walking in her condition. She should be resting safe in bed where he left her.

"Am I on a spaceship?" She asked.

Ti'kon nodded.

"In space?"

He nodded more slowly, wondering if her head wound was more serious than he first thought.

"That's. . . awesome," she said with a smile that surprised him.

She waded towards him through the mist, deliberately disturbing it with her palms, watching the patterns it formed. She seemed to be fascinated with the fog. When she reached his side, her eyes hardened as she regarded him.

"Did the bomb go off?"

He nodded twice, knowing the question was important to her.

"Good," she responded, and then crawled into his lap.

Ti'kon didn't think there was that much room between him and the controls, but she managed to fit, bring her knees to her chest, curling up in a little ball. So he could still reach the panel if he leant forward, not that he wanted to reach it any more. She made herself comfortable, nuzzling her face into his chest. He trilled to her, letting her know the action was welcomed.

"Take of your mask, Big guy. All the gold is cool, but I like your face better."

Ti'kon felt his chest swell, he couldn't stop the instinctive reaction to her words. Oomans were know for finding the Yautja appearance frightening, and yet she seemed to enjoy his. Little Knife had played with his tusks often when they were celled together, touching his face and hands, although she stayed clear of his hair now. Add to that, the fact that a female ordering you to take your armor off was something a male found hard to refuse in the best of circumstances.

With simple movements, he disconnected the mask, dropping it carelessly to the floor. It vanished beneath the fog. He would find it later.

She smiled, and immediately reached for his face, weaving her fingers into his tusks.

"That's better!" She declared, and Ti'kon took a mental note to wear his mask around her as little as possible.

Gently removing her fingers from his face, he leant forward, and being careful not to disturb her bandage, wove his mandibles through her hair. Purring once to show his happiness at her acceptance of his features.

"Do you know what a nightmare is, Big guy?" She spoke, her words suddenly serious.

Ti'kon leant back in his seat to regard her and the sudden question.

"Mo."

"Well, they're what humans call bad dreams. And when I was knocked out, I had another one. You know, like the ones I had in your cell?"

Ti'kon nodded. He remembered her waking up from many bad dreams, holding her close would calm her instantly. She would often go back to sleep, if he purred to her for a while. Was this why she was up and not in bed where she should be?

"Well, in this one I wake up and I'm back in my cell. I looked for you, but I'm alone again. And I call for you, but no one answers me, and I start screaming for you and-"

Little knife's words were choked as tears started to fall from her eyes, she couldn't finish her words. He had always had trouble with crying females, he hated to see them cry, no matter what race they came from. A females tears could often move the most hardened warrior, especially if he considered the female his, and Ti'kon was not immune.

He purred to her, holding her tight, wanting her tears to stop. But his actions only seemed to make her cry harder. He didn't know what to do, so he continued to purr, petting her hair thinking this would help. Eventually she stopped, and looked up at him with watery eyes.

Looking into her sad eyes made his chest ache with a feeling he couldn't name.

"Promise me you wont let me be alone. Promise you wont leave me."

He had never been asked such a thing. Did Little Knife even know what she asked? If he agreed, the little Ooman would have a claim over him. He would be bound by his word of honor. Similar to being bound to a life-mate but not quite the same. She was asking for his protection, for the piece of mind his presence gave her. She simply wanted him to be there with her. Such a sweet thing for her to ask of him.

"Pro-misss," he nodded to her, saying the difficult Ooman word.

She threw her arms around his neck, and he held her close as she started to cry again, much to his displeasure.

"Thank you," she whispered to him.

She really shouldn't have thanked him, even though he had accepted her and given her his word. Now he had to convince his clan of her worth as a member. A task that was not so simple.

What would he do if she was refused?