I'm back with another, although relatively short, chapter. No action in this one though. Thank You for all of the Reviews!

Predator 3: Homeworld

Chapter 6: Past Stories

An'tir'de walked quietly down the corridors of the Yautja ship, heading for the containment chambers. He needed to sort things out once and for all.

As if the shock of Saren'te's words were not enough, they had checked all of the humans for injuries and made a shocking discovery. They had taken the human Saren'te had been attacking back to its' holding cell; it hadn't put up much of a fight, probably due to exhaustion. The smallest of the humans had a minor injury to its arm; it would most likely be fully healed in time for the Kat'ri'nyta battle.

Yet, the most fascinating discovery came from the large, unconscious human. When examined for any injuries, the blooded assigned to checking them over found a familiar scar on the human's left arm; the scar, from the way it healed, seemed to have been made by a Yautja plasma caster. Exactly which Yautja this being had fought was almost impossible to determine, but An'tir'de had a gut feeling that he knew exactly which Yautja this human had fought, AND survived; Saren'te's grandfather.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. There had indeed been other deaths on the human home world, but most of those humans would be dead by now. And, if the humans knew about their presence, why not send in the most experienced warriors to fight?

So preoccupied by his thoughts, An'tir'de nearly passed by the room Saren'te was locked in. By the silence that was issuing from the room, he figured Saren'te had calmed down. Nevertheless, he double-checked his belt to make sure he still had his knife.

Dutch awoke back in the cell they had been originally locked in. Harrigan was already up and eating some of the meat the Predators had given them. Jean lay on the floor, unconscious, with some black thing wrapped around her arm that looked a lot like a cast.

Harrigan, noticing that Dutch was awake, tossed him a bit of the dried meat and asked, "Some breakfast?" Dutch smiled and ate.

"So, what happened?"

Harrigan looked up. "I don't know. But whatever happened, I think these aliens have got a psycho on board. They had to literally drag him away from me. I wonder what his deal was."

"He probably just wanted to rip your skull out like all of those sadistic freaks. What happened to her?" Dutch nodded in the direction of Jean.

"She was more successful than us. She at least cut the thing, but she might have broke her arm in the process; just guessing by the cast thing."

"Well, I don't think we'll be getting out of this place anytime soon. Why don't you tell me what... experience you had with these guys; and when you're done I'll tell you mine."

Harrigan smiled and began to tell Dutch everything that happened that hot couple of days back in '97.

Saren'te heard the door of his cell slide open. He turned his head to the door and saw his leader standing there. "How am I going to explain that behavior?" Saren'te thought nervously. Death was not an unusual punishment for the behavior he exhibited.

An'tir'de began the conversation with a question. "How do you know that that human killed your father?"

Saren'te was surprised by the question, but not wanting to try An'tir'de's patience, he answered. "The trophy he carried. I recognized it."

An'tir'de nodded slightly; Saren'te noticed that An'tir'de's hand lay on a knife tucked into his belt.

An'tir'de followed Saren'te's gaze and answered the obvious question in Saren'te's eyes, "I'm not going to kill you." Relief visible, Saren'te lowered his head and gaze. "You would kill any other for a slight much smaller; why spare me?"

"Many would have acted of the same accord, even without a battle rage. Plus, I seem to have grown a liking for you." Saren'te chuckled dryly; An'tir'de had known him from when he was a youngling and had been good friends with his father.

"And, as it is, perhaps your battle rages will pass if you see your family's murderers dead." Saren'te started to nod, but paused. He lifted his head and stared at An'tir'de.

"What do mean by "murderers"?"

"I have good reason to believe that the other large human may have been the one human your grandfather succumbed to."

Saren'te just stared, his eyes glazing over. An'tir'de gripped the hilt of the knife tighter; if a rage came upon Saren'te, he didn't want to be caught off guard.

"The sooner they die, the happier I shall be," Saren'te replied in a forced calm voice, his hands clenching tightly into fists. An'tir'de smiled; maybe the boy was finally getting control.

I know, it was a short chapter, but I couldn't tack it onto the next one or chapter seven would be too long. Speaking of chapter seven, the trio will get their first look at the Predator home world. If you have any ideas on what the home world might look like, I'm open to suggestions. It might take a while to get up: vacations, writers block, and other things may get in the way, but I'll try and get it up ASAP. Don't forget to Review!

P.S. Here's a little sneak peek of chapter 7...

Harrigan, Dutch, and Jean were surrounded by the Predators, and bound in a strong, black, rope-like material. They could see the door ahead of them and the head of what was, supposedly, the leader of this clan.

With a shudder, the ship touched the ground. The soft hum of the engines died out leaving nothing but tension filled silence. Suddenly the door ahead of them opened. The trio squinted in the bright light that shot thought the entrance of the ship.

Once their eyes adjusted, the three humans laid their eyes on the Predator home world. Harrigan was the first to speak.

"My god..."