well, it's been a long ass time

and i have no excuse, i just had writer's block, as one would say

let me know what you think of this chapter please, i need to know if the direction i'm going is good or not!

so please comment? that would be nice orz

With the exchange done between the two clans, Kali'adah rejecting the other half of the proposal, Warkha humiliated in front of his peers and leader, and, consequently, Lar'ja standing tall and proud next to her in the aftermath, they embarked on the ship to leave.

Za'jo bid his hunt brother goodbye, shaking Ci'tde's shoulder vigorously.

Naturally, the human female was radiating with fury, even as they broke away from the Tu'jan clan's mothership and started their trek back to their own. There was more to this transaction and she had yet to be told about the bad blood hunt that Lar'ja had mentioned to her. They did have arbitrators on board too, so she still couldn't understand why they couldn't just take a ship by themselves and save the rest of them the hassle. Arbitrators were lonesome, very disciplined and could handle the haze of the mating season better than any male could, they were trained for that, had self-restraint that not even elders could exercise sometimes.

Clearly, the mothership going out of its way for this, was not a good idea.

The worst case scenario would be males killing each other and females slaughtering other females in challenges, turning their clan ship into a blood bath.

And Kali, while able to outsmart many males, didn't want to even imagine having to deal with the moment their mind got clouded by pheromones. At this, she clenched her hands into fists atop the armrests of the pilot chair. Suddenly, the warmth of Lar'ja's proximity was becoming annoying and suffocating.

Barking an order at him to back off was not an option, at least, not with the clan leader on her other side.

R'ka was missing with the female that had joined them on this trek and the other two males sported fresh wounds, which could only mean that the former was rutting as the victor. Not like they could say anything or try to get some of their med-kit serum, they didn't want to look weak after the defeat.

What a bunch of idiots. For such an intelligent race, they sure had their stupid moments -in the form of two sulking mountains in the other available chairs behind her seat, staring solemnly into the distance and dripping blood on the platform.

Kali shook her head.

The rest of the journey was spent in silence, the clan leader eventually retreating to his wing of the shuttle and Lar'ja choosing to remain with her in the piloting area, minding his own business on his wrist computer. She didn't bother to look and see what exactly he was doing, but if she had to guess, it was probably just conversing with a fellow hunter on their mothership.

The huntress let her hand swipe lazily over the holo image of the ship, checking the sensors and the transport bay. Her expression fell into disgust when her eyes landed on the two dots that were pulsing in that location -sure enough, there was R'ka and the elite female that did absolutely nothing this whole journey. In fact, Kali could bet she didn't even lift a talon to help with the eggs or the extra fuel and metal they procured.

"Ugh…" she grunted without meaning to. In a second flat, the firstborn was at her side, tilting his head this way and that, trying to gauge what made her react so soundly. If she weren't used to these towering giants, she would have been startled by him. Instead, she merely lifted her ice cold gaze to lock eyes with him.

"What?"

"Sound you make,"

"It was nothing," she flushed, glaring away, and switched the holo images with a flick of her wrist, choosing to stop entertaining her malice towards the unworthy "Where are we going now that we have fuel?"

Lar'ja chuffed and rolled his shoulders. "Kv'var,"

"I know that, but...shouldn't the arbitrators handle this kv'var?"

"H'ko, too many,"

Oh. This time, she was the one searching his gaze. "How many?"

"Clan,"

"C'jit," she hissed, starting to feel agitated at the prospect. A clan of bad bloods on a planet? That could stretch from roughly 200 individuals to a whooping 1000 or more. Made sense why they wouldn't just send the arbitrators. "Only send elites?"

"Elite, honored and arbitrators," his lower mandibles spread open, showing interest in her reaction. Which was livid -yes, she hunted bad bloods sometimes, rare occasions, when the arbitrators were not available and her hunt group was the only one in the vicinity. It didn't mean they had it easy, in fact, bad bloods made her recoil, they were lawless, they were mad and power-hungry. Strayed from Paya's path -nothing to lose, no honor, nothing. And she was going to join this crazy hunt.

If one managed to kill half of her hunt group, then she didn't want to think what so many could accomplish. At some point in their lives, these bad bloods were warriors, some more experienced than others, that held high status. Imagine having to square up to one that used to be an elder or an arbitrator, as such cases were not that uncommon.

"Fear?" he reached out, one talon brushing her cheek. "H'ko. Weariness," she growled, smacking his hand away from her face.

The male did not like the way he was treated, by the way his scorching eyes fixed her afterwards. Despite that, he retreated from her side, with a clenched fist at his side and a blissfully ignorant ooman watching him go, satisfied.

...

Upon returning to the mothership, Lar'ja watched his soon-to-be conquest leave the dropship in exchange for her quarters, as she responded when he inquired, after his sire abandoned the docks area with the other hunters in tow. Her hips swayed and moved tantalizingly, the vision setting he chose for the whole journey providing quite a view of her muscled legs, the scars that adorned her exposed flesh and the most exotic part of her, the face.

The firstborn straightened his posture as the female mingled with the other yautja and disappeared from his sight. Seeing her so small and fearless amongst tall and powerful warriors made a light growl spring through his sternum, an instinct to protect, to whisk her away, to bend her over and bite into her, almost clouding his senses. This infatuation he had with her, as his clan leader called it, started long before their last hunt of this rotation. In fact, if he recalled it correctly, it began with her return from her chiva, when he was already an elite standing by the mentors in the welcoming party that greeted the new blooded of that generation.

That's when he saw her, small, lithe, quick, with so much astuteness in her eyes, holding her chin high and her trophies with pride, standing out from the few warriors left of her group. She had no fear, only confidence, pouring through the way she carried herself, the way she took them all in, the way she presented her win. She smelled like acid, vegetation, dirt and victory -and he was witness to her ascension as he took her scent in, committing it to memory.

She didn't know how his insides stirred with the prospect of challenge. At least, that is what he believed it was, the desire to rip her apart, she was prey, after all, prey living among his kind. And he watched her closely, like the apex predator that he was. Throughout celebrations, throughout hunts, the manner in which she sometimes would linger by the kehrite, how she would take on challengers with calm rage.

As if she wanted to engrave her role in their society. Make a stand or die trying.

But then it became different, it changed each time he saw, smelt or heard her.

Until he found himself stalking her on some of her hunts, as part of her hunt group. He blamed it on her exoticism, on the way she moved that provoked him at an instinctual level. Shameful as it was back then, he resumed to rutting females of his species in hopes that it would keep his mind as stimulated as she was able. None of it worked, mating cycle or not, in the fever of desire or not, it didn't change how he saw her.

He waited more, he pondered more than he should have, he behaved uninterested, if not straight out hostile...even if, he would admit the swell of pride he felt when she elevated her status in their society, became a honored warrior, joined successful hunts and brought back trophies that could put others of higher status to shame. With her new worth came her mating rights, something she didn't have before, as only sain'ja did -so more than ever before, his senses were completely focused on all the males that would even breathe her way, in aggression, in possessive mannerisms that drove curious gazes away, those like Marc'te's. It was the realization that another male could try to make her theirs that drove him to finally act on impulse and decide to court her -it was the way that pauk'de Marc'te watched her, how his interest showed through his change in scent.

His sire was outraged when the news had reached him, which was also why he wished for Kali'adah to join their meeting with the other clan, to show him how unworthy she was, how her nature was, how oomans were supposed to be treated, how she was going to be mated with one of her species.

"Rut her and be done with this foolishness! She can bear you no pups, she is beneath us. Paya was graceful with her through our matriarch, too graceful!" -were some of his choice wordings. His interest didn't wane, it only strengthened and it wasn't the heat implementing thoughts in his mind. By Paya, he could not wait for the mating celebration to begin as soon as they returned to their homeworld, where he could finally have her properly.

Truthfully, Lar'ja could not say if this infatuation was due to her differences or if it would go away after he would have had her, but he knew what he wanted and needed now.

Seeing yautja with ooman females on the other clan's ship made him bolder, made him feel like he wasn't the only fool in this universe that found a female of a different species appealing to the eye. There were others like him and that only encouraged him further.

"Let's go, mei'hswei," R'ka chittered as he passed him by, smelling like that female's musk all over, as was usual after a mating to display.

His mandibles flared outwards as he turned abruptly to look at his hunt brother, having paused on the ramp for far too long. He needed to focus his mind on the hunt, to emerge victorious and bring her worthy trophies at the celebration, gift her something that would make her dismiss all other males that might show interest in her at the ceremony.

Regardless, he would best them all if that would be the case and he would wear her scent with pride.

The bad blood situation had priority, however.

Some other honored warriors greeted them as soon as they entered the communal baths, having been in the middle of sharing some old tales of kainde amedha hunts. It became a habit to lounge within the hot waters of the shared pool after hunts or before them. Etas were responsible for keeping the place clean and full with bowls of naxa fruit, incense, oils and pelts for after the bathing, in fact, in their culture, it was somewhat of a place where they could come together, debate, tell stories and enjoy themselves.

Lar'ja alone was known to relish the extremely scorching water a bit too much for his own good, often preferring the location after training in the kehrite or just after a long, active cycle. R'ka was welcomed alongside him with firm shakes of their shoulders as soon as they undressed and entered the pool, which the males returned in kind, joining the conversation and taking in the other company at the far corner.

There were five females soaking there, chittering and turning to watch them intensely. Their musk was easy to remark, even with all the fog and incense, and it riled up the males around him, all five of them, including his mei'hswei. Despite this, Lar'ja made no effort to puff out his chest or show interest like them, he merely began a topic he was genuinely curious about. "What is the location of the pauk'de ic'jit agaj'ya?"

R'ka, as if snapped from his trance, cocked his head to the side, clicking his lower mandibles at his friend. "Game preserve planet, Etna 02, three cycles away," he responded, albeit, a bit reluctantly "You have not received the data?"

Lar'ja chuffed, remembering he had messed with some of the wrist computer's wires, as it became faulty after the last hunt of the rotation, when it came in contact with water from a swamp he had stalked through.

It wasn't often that a mothership was ordered by the matriarch to participate in such a large hunt, normally they would be debriefed before the event, but this was not normal, was it? He himself had only heard of one such hunts and memory of events from hundreds of rotations ago escaped him as he was unblooded then. R'ka was more in tune with the protocols when it came to such events, so he made a mental note to check the data once he retired to his quarters.

Instead of saying something, the male simply gave his companion a curt nod and leaned back against the ledge of the pool, relaxing his muscles. He didn't want to seem too ignorant or dismissive in regard to the mission, especially in front of other warriors, even if he knew that their minds were anywhere but on the hunt at this moment in time.

Another topic was started and by the end of their soak, three of the males ended up challenging some of the females in the corner. Lar'ja took that as his cue to leave.

...

As soon as the next cycle began, after a long slumber in his nest, the large yautja was busy overlooking the transforming of the d'lex in the lowest levels of the mothership, by the eta metal workers. The weapons and armor they were making were courtesy of the clan leader's graciousness, a last gift for the warriors that would march into battle with the bad blood clan, due in just two cycles.

For those that would pass, it would be a honorable death and the weapons would help them in facing Cetanu and Paya.

With him, arbitrator Ye'sta, was procuring his combi stick from being repaired, as it fractured in the last mission he had been on. He had said that he managed to put it off as much as it was possible, until this moment when he knew he needed the trusty javelin.

"Cetanu will welcome many of our warriors this hunt," he rumbled, deep in thought as he watched the etas forging armor in the scorching fires of the ship's belly.

"Sei-i," Lar'ja found himself agreeing. But it would be through honorable means, by bringing a clan of criminals to justice. "I fear there is more to this than a simple purge of their kin," the arbitrator added, pulling his mandibles tight against his face.

The firstborn turned his head to look at the red-brown male, inquiring with the click of his tusks.

"There has been a report that an ooman colony had settled there a few rotations back, I cannot help but wonder if they are still there or if they have been killed," he continued, prompted by Lar'ja's chirr.

At the new information, the elite growled deep in his chest. "They have been left alone as they posed no threat, not warriors, not bad bloods, only groups of sires, bearers and pups, the scout said,"

"Does Za'jo know of this?"

"Sei-i. He was the one that decided to do nothing and leave them to their own devices," Ye'sta replied, a soft, almost inaudible keen leaving his throat at the prospect of pups and bearers being killed mercilessly. Their code of honor prohibited such heinous acts, even punished them through exile -yet, they couldn't sympathize with the situation either, they could only wipe out the bad bloods that committed the acts.

Oomans were emotional creatures, Lar'ja knew, from his many encounters with their warriors and primitive weapons. With yautja, it was different, emotions did not come like a river, they came more like a kicked pebble here and there, if he were to make a comparison. They felt, but to their core, they were not empathizers.

"We will see when we reach the game preserve," he grumbled with finality, unwilling to go further into a topic that had been intentionally kept from the rest of them. Besides, there was still another stop that they had to make before that, and Lar'ja was the kind of male that would solve a problem once faced with it.

Ye'sta, however, had to intone what really haunted him, and, consequently, the reason for his information splurge. "I say this because I have a request for you, firstborn,"

With a snort, Lar'ja turned his head away, tendrils slapping his shoulders at the aggressive motion. "H'ko," he hissed immediately, knowing full well what was coming. He was anything but foolish and the arbitrator, no matter how he tried to hide his intentions, did not deceive him.

"Not interested in your request, dhi'rauta kha'bj-te,"

There was silence and tension between the two males, only the clash of metal filling in the heavy air. "Very well. Payas leitjin-de Hma'mi'de, kv'var-de,"

Lar'ja did not budge, even as the other yautja left. He would not be part of these games.

...

"We are making a stop by the Intera Market?" Kali asked incredulously, Jac'in and Amelia sitting in the mess hall across from her. It wasn't usual for the female to bring the human servant along, choosing to hide her away in her quarters, but this was something the two didn't want to miss out on.

The Intera Market was built in the mined-out husk of a metallic asteroid, turned into the biggest marketplace in the galaxy, where you could find virtually anything. Usually, the mothership lingered by it only once in a rotation, allowing the hunters to descent with the dropships and get whatever they wanted from there.

It was mostly through exchange, though. Yautja being hunters, one could imagine the rare things they came across or had in their possession, so when the mothership did come by, they were very welcomed, greeted from the docking bay by goons sent as courtesy by the space station's governing, a small council of three different alien species .

In this place, where trading is the only law, many species of aliens took root, you could see almost all kinds of creatures, from all kinds of planets. The yautja, among them, were the most feared and respected, though, which is why they always got the best deals. Nobody wanted to anger a yautja.

"Sei-i," Jac'in confirmed, sparing a glance to her human lover. Amelia giggled in turn, her eyes joyful at the prospect. "I can finally get new sandals? And...can I also have a new dress?" she tugged on the bicep of the huntress, a loving expression on her face.

In return, Jac'in pressed her great forehead against the servant's, mandibles relaxed.

"You don't have to ask," she purred out, unusually affectionate. Kali watched the small intimate moment uncomfortably, mainly because she didn't see her hunt sister this...touchy before. Granted, it must be the heat, the pheromones and the approaching breeding season.

Their sizes were so odd that some would find it laughable, if the rapid clicking of witnesses at the display was anything to go by. The gargantuan yautja female and the small, fragile human woman.

It sure did garner unwanted attention as males passed by them.

While the Tu'jan clan was tolerating, even indulging in their ooman pets, the Etei clan was still coming to terms with having an ooman hunter among them. Losing a strong, fertile, yautja female to an ooman weakling….was not something they wanted to see broadcasted in public like this.

Amelia didn't know, she couldn't know, but Jac'in should know better. Kali'adah made eye contact with the female when she pulled away from her small lover, an unvoiced advice in her gaze, which the huntress huffed at and let a rumbled click reverberate, much to the servant's confusion.

"Jac'in, what is wrong?" her eyes jumped from one huntress to the other, brows furrowed. Kali felt bad for what she did, but it was for their own good, she told herself as she left their table and the mess hall altogether.

If they were stopping by the planetoid, then she might as well grab some items in case of an exchange. You never knew what you could find there.

From exotic pets, to weapons, slaves, substances, foods, incense, jewelry, down to objects only found on other planets and ship parts.

Last time, she made a trade for what Amelia called a brush, to untangle her hair. And she had to admit it was far better than using that bone comb she had carved for herself.

As she walked through hallways, moving through the calves-high fog permeating the floors of the ship, she noticed how riled up the other hunters were, an excitement in the air she didn't feel before. Perhaps it was because of the hunt that was nearing, a chance to bring down bad bloods and take their heads as trophies -those were the gifts that would impress females as well, their sense of honor. They were loud and obnoxious, beating their chests and collecting their things from their quarters for the Intera Market.

For some, she realized, it would be their last good time in this life.

Maybe that was why they made this abrupt decision to pass by the odd space station, as one last moment of peace. She snorted, what a gracious clan leader they had.

Kv'var=hunt

h'ko=no

c'jit=shit

pauk'de=fucking

mei'hswei=brother/hunt brother

pauk'de ic'jit agaj'ya=fucking shit realm

dhi'rauta kha'bj-te=cunning maniac

Payas leitjin-de Hma'mi'de, kv'var-de=remember the gods' practice, hunter