This is a story I made last year and entered it in a forum writing contest, hosted by a buddy of mine Cassiopeia1979. I actually sat at the computer for 3 weeks straight in order to finish it by the deadline and I beat it by a half an hour! Best part is I came in second place! (Silvermoonlight GJ came in first by 2 votes :D) So I thought I could share it with all fo you. I hope you enjoy it!
This story is dedicated to my younger brother and to the memory of his teammate Justin, who was killed on August 6, 2005 at age 17
By Believing, One Sees
Ptar'mus ran across the kehrite while spinning his ki its–pa over his head. He planted both feet on the ground, vaulted into the air and swung his legs over his upper body, causing him to spin half way around before he landed back on his feet. His long dread locks flew around his head as he jabbed and twirled his spear in an series of complicated movements. Ptar'mus kept on the balls of his feet as he brought back his weapon, twisted his body and kicked out, his leg making a wide, powerful arc in the air. He swung the spear around his torso once, then planted his foot firmly on the ground and spun his ki its–pa up down and around his body, switching from one had to the other. His weapon became a blur around him until he threw it up in the air, turned around, stuck out his hand and caught the spear with perfect timing, ending his performance in a lunge.
The male stood up to his full seven foot ten height and gave a long sigh, his huge muscles glistening with sweat. Ptar'mus looked like any adult Yautja. His layered dread locks was decorated with the etched metal rings his species commonly wore, his skin was yellowy orange, reptilian like and his arms, legs and back were dotted with common black birth marks. He showed the strength, endurance and knowledge of a fully trained warrior; but after one glance at his blank grey eyes, it was obvious that there was something very different about him. Ptar'mus was blind.
The experienced warrior adjusted his leather harness over his chest and his brown loincloth over his hips before he turned and walked to a group of six un–bloods, who had witnessed his performance. He could sense their shock and disbelief and he felt amusement rise in his chest.
"How...how did you do that Leader?" asked one male un–blood.
Ptar'mus laughed when he heard the amazement in the student's voice, "I may be blind young one, but I can still see as well as any warrior."
The un–blood shook his head in confusion, "I don't understand."
"Have you ever heard of the term, seeing is believing?"
"Yes."
"While that may be true, there are going to be times in your life when your eyes will deceive you. A perfect example would be an incident that happened to a warrior who went to the ooman planet for a hunt, about a thousand years ago. The oomans, after learning that he had arrived on their world, wanted to obtain him for their scientific ambitions. These oomans knew he could see through heat and wore suits that blocked their body heat, so the warrior could not see them. However young ones, the warrior was able to elude the oomans and eventually finished them off one by one. Can anyone tell me how he was able to do that?"
For a moment there was silence.
"Leader," said an un–blood with vibrant orange eyes, "he listened for the oomans. They are not very good at keeping silent."
Ptar'mus nodded in the direction of the voice, "Correct, he could hear them. What else did he do to defeat the oomans?"
Another, who was the shortest of the group, spoke up.
"He used his sense of smell, oomans give off a foul odour."
Ptar'mus chuckled, "Exactly youngling. Even though the warrior was handicapped with one sense, he had others that took over," he waved his hand to the training room, "as I have shown you, blindness did not prevent me from becoming a warrior and hunter. While I cannot see, I can still smell, hear, touch and taste. Using any of the other senses can provided the best form of sight. But I had to train long and hard to focus my senses so they could be used as my eyes. Every sense you have is equally important, one never dominates the other. You younglings must train these senses to be as sharp as a shuriken blade, if not shaper."
Ptar'mus didn't say a word as he heard the would–be warriors whisper to each other while they absorbed his teachings. The male cleared his throat and the group became quiet.
"You are all dismissed for the day. Rest well young ones for tomorrow you will begin your Kainde Amedha Chiva."
The eager clicking from the un–bloods reverberated in his ears and he felt the many sandalled feet vibrate through the floor as the group left the kehrite. Ptar'mus remained alone on the arena. He gave a long sigh as he thought more about the Hard Meat trial tomorrow. As one of seven the Leaders on the ship, he was responsible for instructing this pack of un–bloods before they faced their chiva. He and the other Leaders had spent many months, instructing the un–bloods on how to fight against the kainde amedha and the ways of the Hunt. The male hoped that they would all remember what was taught to them. Only the ones who trained hard and payed attention to their lessons, would survive the trial and earn their rite of passage to become Young Bloods.Ptar'mus placed his hand on the wall and felt his way around the room until he found a towel rack. He selected one and wiped the sweat of his forehead and neck, then threw the used towel in a laundry basket and felt his way to the exit. When he entered the corridor, Ptar'mus immediately felt the raised, coiling designs under his sensitive fingers as he dragged his hand over the wall. With only a single touch, the male could immediately determine his exact position in the maze of the ship's corridors. He wanted to go to the public bath to clean and soak his tense muscles before the trial and he knew it would be a long walk to the location.
As he walked through the wide, dimly lit hallway, he felt the gentle thrum of the ship's engines mingle with the vibrations of the Yautja's footsteps, under his sandalled feet; he also caught their different musks in the heavy, foggy air as they passed him. Ptar'mus grinned when he felt an all too familiar vibration come towards him from behind. He continued his pace as he sensed the tremors coming closer and closer, then at the last second Ptar'mus stepped to one side and stuck out his foot. He felt something bump against his ankle and his sensitive ears picked up a surprised yelp and thud when a heavy body fell to the floor. Ptar'mus stood over the intruder with his chest puffed out in pride.
"Nice try Jin, you almost had me there!"
The male Predator on the floor growled as he turned, his short bone and ringed dread locks swinging with the movement. Jin appeared a head shorter and slightly younger than Ptar'mus, his skin was a light green and the birth marks that covered his body were like that of a speckled frog. Ptar'mus chuckled when he sensed his friend's annoyance. He reached out with his clawed hand and Jin grabbed it to pull himself up.
"One of these days Ptar'mus, I will catch you off guard!"
The taller male laughed, "You haven't been able to sneak up on me since we were young bloods."
"Hey, you have to admit I was close!"
"Oh alright, this was the closest you have gotten with out my knowing."
Ptar'mus knew the Leader's ego had just grew larger as he turned to continue down the corridor with, Jin following beside him. Many decades ago, the two had met during a supervised hunt to a nearby planet. Jin, the hothead of the group but a very accomplished fighter, had challenged Ptar'mus to a spar, thinking that another easy win would raise his rank amongst the pack of young bloods. However he was never more wrong with his assumption. Ptar'mus fought as well as any warrior who could see and Jin was undoubtedly shocked by this discovery. The battle lasted long and ended as a tie. Since then, the young warrior came to realise that Ptar'mus was indeed a worthy fighter and later a loyal friend.
"Is there something you want to tell me?" asked the taller warrior.
Jin nodded, "Yes, Elder Mer'augh has summoned all Leaders to come to the bridge as soon as possible. He has important information to tell us about the planet we are to take the un–bloods."
Ptar'mus sighed, "Tell the Elder I'll be there shortly. I shall meet you on the bridge."
The close friends gave each other a firm shake on the shoulder, then Jin walked around Ptar'mus and disappeared through the corridor. The tall male ran his hands over the wall designs until they disappeared and to empty space. That meant he was at a new entrance and he groped at the current wall. It wasn't the right hallway and so he continued along the same path, often passing by young and old Yautja. Finally the designs changed under his fingers and Ptar'mus knew he was close to his quarters. He felt the main corridor branch off to another hallway and proceeded into it, counting down four doors until came to a stop in front of the fifth. After fumbling for the panel beside the door, he ran over the beady letters on the pad and tapped out a code. He heard the door hiss open and he stepped into his room. The interior was like any Yautja's quarters. Many skulls from his previous hunts lined the right wall of his room, a bed covered with fur blankets was situated at the far end, with a leather chair and a holographic monitor beside it and several shelving on the left wall held his many pieces of armour, weaponry and clothing. Ptar'mus took off his sandals, placed them beside the door and clicked softly as he walked from cold metal to a fur rug. The male dragged a claw lovingly over his polished skulls before disappearing into a room in the corner.
The bathroom was quite small than the one he had back home, as did most ship's facilities. There was a sink, a toilet bowl and two slabs of marble placed horizontally along the right wall. One slab was for cleansing and the other was for washing. Ptar'mus would've preferred to soak in the public baths on the ship, but he was in a hurry; Elders did not like to be kept waiting. Ptar'mus quickly took off his harness and loincloth, then stepped onto the washing slab. He ran the pads of his fingers along the wall until he came to a button and pressed it. The male purred and closed his blank eyes as warm water from a shower head poured over his face and body, relaxing his tense muscles. He pressed the same button again to stop the water and stepped onto the cleansing slab. Ptar'mus picked up a washing cloth and groped the wall for his soap dispenser. He read the raised symbols with his fingers until he found what he wanted and turned the dial to release a creamy green liquid onto the cloth. The warrior sighed as he scrubbed his body, his half lidded eyes staring at the ground.
Ptar'mus had been blind almost his entire life. He had been born with the sense of sight, but when he had just learned how to walk he was struck with a terrible fever. Although Ptar'mus survived the sickness, it robbed him of his sight and his parents devastatingly found out, when they saw him loose his balance every time he stood on his own or wouldn't react to any movement in front of his face. Needless to say, they did not know how to handle the situation and wondered what to do with him. Yautja, who had disabilities that prevented them to become a hunter, were made into slaves or executed. Both of his parents had come from strong blood lines and did not want that kind of disgrace hanging over them. But they were suddenly surprised one day, when their son actually stood up on his own and began to walk again as if he had never had lost his sight. Although he occasionally ran into walls and furniture around the dwelling, Ptar'mus learned very quickly in his infancy to use his other senses to identify his surroundings. He had found that each room would smell or feel slightly different than the other, and it wasn't long until he was able to successfully manoeuver through his home. His mother and father noticed this adaptation and decided to use this amazing ability to their son's advantage.
Speech was actually hard for Ptar'mus than most thought. While he could hear the guttural sounding language from his mother, father and other Yautja, he could never see how their mouths moved to form the words properly. To solve this problem, Ptar'mus's mother would sit him on her lap, with his hands on her face and she would speak to him while he felt how her mandibles moved. The young male would then place his hands over his mouth and mimic what he had sensed. Ptar'mus was very quick to learn and it wasn't long before he could speak perfectly. His mother had also used the same method to identify objects around and outside the house. She would place small objects in his hands or have him grope over larger objects, tell him the identifying word and he would repeat it. Reading had been somewhat a challenge for Ptar'mus. His parents had made imprints of the alphabet on sheets of metal and that enabled him to feel the different letters and numbers with his fingers. It had been the same with writing; although he could never use a writing utensil his parents were able to obtain a special computer with raised lettering on the keys. It had taken a lot of practice for him to master the computer, but that was the easy part of his learning.
Before Ptar'mus was trained to fight, his mother would sometimes take him to the interior of the city so he could learn more about the world he lived on. It had been quite a strange sight for other Yautja to see Ptar'mus fondle and smell everything, but his behaviour was accepted more often then not. Many Yautja in the city knew of the blind suckling, since such a thing was very rare amongst the race of warriors and hunters. How else was a child suppose to learn about his home when he lacked a very important sense? However those many people had mumbled to themselves that Ptar'mus would never be a successful hunter, much less a fighter. But his parents knew their son had great potential to be a warrior and with strong determination they began his training.
The male smiled and stopped scrubbing for a moment when he remembered his training days. While most parents would have taught defensive moves to their sucklings first, Ptar'mus's parents took a different approach. They wanted to have their son train his sensitive hearing, touching and smelling to be his eyes, so they started to teach him the ways of tracking. His parents would take turns hiding in the thick forests near their home, and Ptar'mus had to hunt them down. He had acted very much like an animal, sniffing the air and ground to try and catch his parents' distinctive musks. He would strain his hearing to catch and separate the sounds of the forest; he would place his hands and feet on the ground, staying absolutely still so the vibrations of the vast forest could flow over his sensitive skin. From there, Ptar'mus could pick out the movements of his mother or father and take off into the woods. He never ran into the trees as one might have thought. Ptar'mus had figured out on his own to use his own vibrations to locate stationary objects; like a bat would use echolocation, except his tremors were caused by his feet.
The training had been long and gruelling for Ptar'mus. His mother and father would constantly fool him with false trails by using their tracks, scent and even their vibrations. Time and time again the young male would fall for the traps and become lost in the immense forest, until he would be brought back by his parents, who were never far from him. He remembered he would become so frustrated with himself that he just wanted to give up and stop the training. But Ptar'mus's parents would not let him quit and they pushed him harder to sharpen his senses. After months of tracking, Ptar'mus finally learned how to distinguish a fake trail from a real one and soon his parents could no longer elude their son.
Defensive training followed after that. Ptar'mus now used his much more sensitive hearing to listen to the punches and kicks his mother and father would make while they spared. He had found each movement had it's own tone; a kick made a whirling noise, a push made a slapping sound, and high attack made the air vibrate faster than a low attack. From these disturbances in the air, he was able to gauge the distance of an on coming attack and allow him to block with counter attacks. Offensive and weapons training came along very easily to Ptar'mus, now that he understood how to use sound and tremors as his eyes. The shuriken blades and ki its–pa were his favourite weapons because he liked the way they sounded in the air.
Unfortunately, when he had reached the age to become a blooded member of the clan, he was denied by many Elders to even enter a ship. All they saw in Ptar'mus was his blindness, it didn't matter if he had the ability to fight. His parents had argued with the Elders to allow him to join a blooding hunt and they came close to losing their ranks in doing so. Finally, after two years of continued protests he was accepted onto a ship, but even then the Elder, Leaders and the un–bloods he was training with, labelled the sightless Ptar'mus a poor excuse for a Yautja.
The blind male sighed as he finished sudsing and stepped onto the washing slab. He remembered feeling very nervous and apprehensive when he had entered the giant ship for the first time. The smells, the sounds, even the things he touched were completely different; and the new environment frightened him. There was nothing familiar on the ship and his parents were no longer there to comfort him. Ptar'mus squeezed his eyes shut as the water washed the soap off. He could never forget how the other un–bloods would gang up on him and tease his disability; often beating him until cuts and bruises covered his body. None of that helped him during training sessions. Combined with previous beatings and the unfamiliar sounds and vibrations from his sparing partners, Ptar'mus frequently panicked and lost many fights. He had even once become lost when he wanted to go to his quarters, but ended up in the engine rooms on the lower levels of the great cruiser. All of these incidences had convinced the Elder, his teacher and the rest of the un–bloods that he was not fit to become a warrior.
It was when Ptar'mus was in his quarters, thinking about his home, did he finally had enough of his weak attitude. He was not going to bring dishonour to his family after they had worked so hard and never stopped believing in him. The young male refused to allow everyone on the ship think he was worthless. With his renewed confidence, Ptar'mus spent days coping with the differences. He would explore the ship with one hand on the wall, picking out identifiable designs so he could easily find his way around. He would memorise the different footsteps and smells produced by his peers and teachers, he strained his ears to pick up the sounds his partner's limbs created in the air and on the ground as they fought; determining their speed, accuracy and even pinpointing openings and weaknesses vulnerable to attack. Ptar'mus would spend hours in the kehrite alone, practising with the weaponry on the ship to improve his balance, focus and strength. It wasn't long until the young male won a few sparing matches and build a new respect from his Leader and the Elder.
Then came the day of the Kainde Amedha Chiva. Ptar'mus was both nervous and excited. This was his chance to prove that blindness will never prevent him from becoming a hunter. At the end of the chiva he had shocked everyone on the ship, not only because he was one of the few to survive, but because came back with more trophies than any un–blood! Ptar'mus was then marked with the symbol of his clan and held with high honours. But nothing gave the young male more pride when he had returned home and received praise from his entire family.
The male turned off the water and dried the rest of his body with a towel. Even though he had proven himself, he still had to work long and hard to gain the status he had now. The male inhaled deeply as he walked out of the bathroom and groped to his shelves, where he found a new loin cloth, his small utility belt and a chest plate. The plate was made of a light alloy, brightly polished and bore the symbol of his clan; a crescent moon with an extended shuriken blade in the centre of the moon's points. The chest plate once belonged to his father and it was a gift from him after he had completed his blooding trial, so many decades ago. His father had told him to wear it with pride and honour when he was old enough and Ptar'mus took it to his father's words. He never wore it on hunts, only on ceremonies and meetings with the Elder. Ptar'mus felt his way to the door and it opened automatically as he approached it. He quickly slipped on his sandals before entering the hallway and walked to the main corridor, hearing the click his door made as it locked. He soon found his way out and he kept his hand on the wall as he headed for the bridge. The male was half way there when he caught a wonderful scent. Ptar'mus raised his head and smiled with his eyes.
"Hello Ticka," he greeted.
An eight foot and a half female with sandy yellow, brown striped skin and wearing a white chest veil and a long brown loin cloth brushed up against his arm. Her honey coloured eyes sparkled as a smile appeared on her beautiful features.
"Hello Ptar'mus, how did you know I wasn't Jin or someone else?"
"Jin does not smell as lovely as you."
Ticka raised and eyebrow, "I'd be very concerned if he did."
The couple laughed as the continued their pace through the corridor, then up a flight of steal steps. Ticka held the male's arm for guidance and even though he didn't need it, he still enjoyed the touch of her warm, smooth skin on his own. Ticka and Ptat'mus were mates and Leaders on the giant ship, but the female lead a different un–blood team. Both of them met each other some twenty–three years ago when they were part of a chosen team to eliminate a Hard Meat nest on a desert planet. The colony had become so out of control, almost the whole planet was covered with the Kainde Amedha and it was too dangerous for any warrior to hunt on. Over three hundred Yautja left the ship to secure the area around the main nest entrance and Ticka and Ptar'mus were amongst the ground crew. Like most of their race, Ticka was very sceptic of the blind male's abilities, but she was very stunned and impressed when she saw him fight against the swarms of Hard Meat. Ticka had never seen anyone fight like him; in fact she had thought Ptar'mus fought better than the warriors who could see. After hours of battling, the area was clear enough to lay down enough explosives to blow the planet to atoms. Many warriors were lost, but Ptar'mus and Ticka were amongst the survivors. During the months in space and later on the Homeworld, the two grew to love each others company. Together they had two children, a daughter and son. Their daughter was currently on her first lone hunt on the ooman world and their son was on a different ship about to become a blooded warrior, should he survive.
"What do you think Elder Mer'augh is concerned about? He rarely calls all Leaders to the bridge," said the sightless male.
Ticka shrugged, "I heard rumours that there are not only Hard Meat populating the planet, but oomans as well."
Ptar'mus's eyes didn't move as he turned his head, "Oomans?"
"Yes, I heard there is some kind of military and science facility not too far from the main nest."
The male growled, "A science facility can only mean one thing, the oomans are still trying to find a way to control the Hard Meat."
The large female nodded, "I agree, and Paya help us all if the succeed. We're here Ptar'mus."
Ticka let go of her mate's arm and he groped his way to the bridge. As he entered the large room, he could smell the individual musks of the Leaders and hear their guttural clicks and growls, mix with the mechanical beeping caused by the machines that surround the entire room. His ears also caught the familiar noises coming from a large holographic monitor and the shifting feet of the other Yautja who surrounded it. Ptar'mus caught Jin's scent and he travelled in that direction. He reached into a large pocket of his utility belt and pulled out a flat screen, with a long cord. Jin automatically reached for the cord and plugged the end into an outlet on the consol. The screen Ptar'mus held was specially made for meetings like the one he was attending. Generally, all meetings with the Elders involved the use of a holographic consol and obviously the male had no way of seeing the images. The screen contained millions of tiny metal beads that, could mold into any shape with the help of an imaging computer. When a hologram appeared on the consol, the information would pass through the cord, into the image computer and cause the beads to form a small 3D model on the screen. This enabled the male to feel the image to get an idea of what the others were seeing.
Ptar'mus felt the floor vibrate as Elder Mer'augh entered the bridge and stood at the head of the consol. His very long, dark grey dread locks was heavy with metal rings and strings of coloured beads; his face and forehead was covered with wrinkles, bore numerous scars from his many years of hunting and the white tusks of his mandibles showed a slight discolouration. The armour he wore on his chest and thighs was etched with many complicated symbols, outlined in gold and the black cloak that touched to the ground was held securely on his shoulders with bright silver shoulder guards that were carved to look like claws. The entire room bowed to the ancient Yautja and he replied with a stoop of his own.
"Greetings fellow warriors," the Elder addressed, "I have summoned you all hear on a very important matter. A few days ago our scanners picked up a most unsettling discovery."
The room went dim and the consol projected a very large hologram of a lush, tropical planet. The holographic sphere turned slightly to reveal three long, clunky looking spaceships. Ptar'mus felt the image of the ships and the design was undoubtedly known to him; they were ooman battle cruisers. The blind male heard the grumbles of the Leaders circle around the room and he could smell the anger and worry in their musk. Mer'augh growled for attention.
"The rumours that have been circulating around the ship are unfortunately true. The oomans have built a science facility and several military bases in this area here."
The planet flattened out and became a forest of tall trees and mass foliage that surrounded six buildings. Five smaller square buildings encircled a rather large structure in the middle. The building in the middle appeared to be the science centre, while the rest were the military bases. Ptar'mus ran his fingers over the model on his screen many times so he could remember it. He heard warrior speak.
"Elder, how is it that the oomans found this planet? It has been a well kept secret for centuries."
Mer'augh sighed, "I do not know. We hypothesise that the oomans found it by accident. What we do know is that the oomans have built this research facility to study the Hard Meat and have been doing so for quite some time."
Ptar'mus could smell the rising anger of the other Yautja and he too became angry. The Elder growl again for silence.
"The blooding hunt will still continue as planned. The four Leaders will take their un–bloods to the nest while the rest of us stay here and form a plan on how to destroy these buildings before the oomans continue their study. May the gods save us if they do."
The Leaders hissed their agreement and the hologram disappeared. Ptar'mus trailed down the cord until he came to the end and pulled it out. Elder Mer'augh turned in his direction.
"You four Leaders shall inform the situation to your teams immediately. Make sure they understand that they are not allowed to hunt the oomans, as they are not ready to take on such prey. However, if the oomans do interrupt the chiva, they are permitted to obtain their skulls as trophies; remember to keep to the Codes. You are all dismissed."
All the Leaders automatically bowed to the Elder and turned to file out of the bridge. Ptar'mus put his screen away and he felt Ticka's arm slip around his. She directed him down the stairs and through a long corridor that lead to the un–blood's quarters.
"I must relay this to my team as soon as possible," said the male.
Ticka nodded, "Yes, I shall leave you to that. I too have business elsewhere to attend, but unfortunately I cannot be there to see you off when you leave for the planet. Good hunting go with you my mate."
Ptar'mus felt her mandibles trace his cheek before she let go of his arm. The blind male sighed as he felt his mate's footsteps disappear down the hallway. He then groped for the intercom and called his team together.
There you have it Pred fans, the first chappy. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about my other fics. I felt bad for leaving you all in the dark for so long, so I hope this new fic makes up for the waiting. Tell me what you think about it in your reviews. Thanks a million!