Chapter Three- Adapting.
Alaric, bandaged and staggering, sifted through the charred remains of his home. He looked around at the skeletal frames jutting out of the ashes. He pictured his home the day his life was taken, torn up and filled with the screams of his wife and child still echoing in his mind. He felt hard flooring underneath the debris and he cleared the surrounding area, barely wincing at his own injuries. A trapdoor revealed itself and he pulled it open. Ash slipped past in grey and black streams as the hatch was opened fully, revealing steps. Alaric stepped down them. Flicking a torch on, he shone it around the small basement. The only object here was a large, long wooden chest. Hooking the torch on the ceiling, Alaric opened the chest. He looked at the contents before pulling out a cloth bundle. He looked at it for a few moments before placing it aside. He reached back in and pulled out a hand axe. The rune on the axe head glinted in the torch light and reflected in Alaric's eyes.
Alaric sat in the bathroom on a stool wiping his hair. His thick hair wasn't sticking up now as it was before because he was washing it to get rid of the stale engine grease in it that kept it up. He had the courtesy of washing his hair in a separate bowl as not to contaminate either the bath or the highly ornate sink.
His boots, harness and gloves was neatly placed behind the stool as not to get dirty by the slag water. The water from his hair dripped into the bowl, making ripples of orange in the bowl that was slowly turning into a dirty orange when the substance that dyed his hair was being drawn out by the grease, reverting his hair back into its jet black state that contrasted with his eyes.
Finding out how to turn the taps on and off took a moment for Alaric to understand but he was quick to learn on how yautja technology worked. There weren't any taps per say, rather retracting panels in the upper rims of the basin
I have got to find a better alternative then grease, he thought as he remembered the day he retook the oath.
He engraved five runes into his arm, using the black ashes of his home as the pigment. He barely winced as he cut into himself with a knife. When all five runes were cut, he took a hand full of ash and rubbed the ashes hard into his arm. He then repeated the process again and again until the marks were as black as night. Picking up his axes and the cloth bundle, he walked back outside. He would have his vengeance.
He blotted the memory from his mind as he continued cleaning his hair.
He heard the door slide open and in came Ja'anya she walked past him and went over to the sink unit to check on her cut palm. She removed the bandage and examined the wound. It had stopped bleeding days ago but the flesh seemed unable to heal itself together. She never heard of any blade do this before. Monomolecular blades were supposed to be impossible to make by human hands, save for the famous katana swords of Japanese samurai.
Alaric noticed her cut hand and he looked at his axes. He knew exactly what just have happened.
"So you had touched the axe blade did you?" Alaric said, still wiping his hair, clinging messily to his body and head before he stood up and walked over where he took her hand and examined the cut. "Cuts from them never heal on their own, trust me on that."
Ja'anya watched him as he checked on how deep the cut was.
"Hmm, have you got any needles?" he asked.
"Yes" Ja'anya replied not knowing what he needed them for.
He nodded and went over to his harness which was still on the floor. He opened a pouch on the left chest strap and pulled out a small plexi-glass box.
"Inferno ants" he said, indicating the bright red insects in the box.
Inferno ants are the scourge of floria VII. A whole swarm has to be one of the most lethal predators to ever exist. One account told of how a whole swarm virtually devoured a psuedo-raptor, leaving nothing more then a set of bleached bones in just under an hour.
Ja'anya suddenly looked a bit worried about what he had in mind but she had a surgical needle in her other hand. He came back and took her hand again in one hand and the needle with his other.
"This'll sting a bit, but it works" he said with a slight grimace on his face. "I learned the hard way."
He then gently jab the inside of her cut palm with the needle making her wince, instantly it started bleeding, her florescent blood seeping out of the cut. He held her hand reassuringly before picking one of the ants by it's body, it's pincer like mandibles opening and closing frantically.
He brought it to her cut hand; he pinched the flesh lightly making the wound close before setting the ant on it, it instantly bit into her flesh and she gave a small yelp. A second later Alaric ripped its body of clean from its head, its head still biting.
"Look, continues biting even when it's dead" he remarked. "Earliest suture in existence."
He repeated this until the wound was thoroughly closed and there was a line of heads sticking out of her hand. By now, Ja'anya thought her hand was on fire, but she could feel her cut going numb. Alaric checked her cut to see if it was sealed sufficiently. He had used up all the ants in the box, not that there were many to begin with.
"There you go, give it a few hours and that'll be good as new." He said as he went back to the stool and continued cleaning his hair. "Beats cauterising any day thanks to a certain element in their toxin."
Ja'anya on the other hand felt like her hand was on fire. But secretly, she was impressed by his survival knowledge. There is a rule in the harshest of environments that had been in force since the beginning of time. Adapt or die. That was the only explanation for Alaric surviving on that would with only his axes and no modern technology of any kind.
He picked up the bowl, placed it to the side of the bath, out of the way and got up. His thick hair was now completely black, resting down past his shoulders and down to his waist. He went out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom to retrieve his axes. He looked at the mark on the bed, the great greasy star that was sprawled where his head was. He picked his axes as he looked at it.
Surprised I didn't lose my head for that, he thought. Maybe she's biding her time.
He came back out and he was met by Ja'anya who had now bandaged her hand again.
"So what are you planning to do since you are up and about?" she asked.
"Same thing I've been doing for all my life. Perfect my skills." he said, juggling one of his hand axes. "You can join me if you wish"
Ja'anya thought for a moment before going into her room to change into training gear. Alaric waited outside patiently for her and she came out a few minutes later dressed in a short skirt and vest along with her glaive, the vest only covered the top of her chest, showing off her abdomen revealing her naturally curved physic.
She guided him to the sparing room. it was spacious and had her collection of trophies from her previous hunts mounted on the far wall, Alaric went over and had a look while he was tying his hair back into a ponytail with a shred of cloth.
"Hmm, you killed some bugs. Pretty damn good" he remarked, 'bugs' being the slang term for the xenomorphs by humans.
"Yes. See those three over there," she pointed at the three that was to the far left. "Those were the first ones I hunted, I got them in one slash from my glaive."
"Impressive, though it doesn't make any difference. You can wipe out whole nests of them and they'll still pop out from nowhere" he said.
His memory flashed as he remembered that incident in which he, alone and with only one of his axes, wiped out a whole hive. He refused to give his superiors any details, stating that he would not talk about it to anyone. Despite gaining a breathing space, the USCMC soon found itself back to square one as the xenomorphs repopulated their numbers when extremists arrived on the scene.
He placed the axes down at the edge of the sparing ring and picked up his double handed axe, he thought for a second as he held it.
"Just how tough are yautja weapons?" he asked.
Ja'anya looked at him in puzzlement.
"Why do you ask?" she questioned.
"Because every time I fought a hunter, his weaponry keeps breaking whenever I hit them."
Ja'anya thought she understood what he meant and pulled out from a weapons cabinet several combi-staffs.
She threw one to Alaric which he caught. After a few seconds of examination to see how it worked, he extended the weapon to its combat configuration. He placed it on the floor before readying his axe.
"Just a precaution, I don't want to hurt you…yet" he said to Ja'anya.
With that, he brought his axe down hard on the weapon. In a hail of sparks it had sliced it cleanly in two, the cut edges were glowing.
Ja'anya looked at it for a second with wide eyes. This was not something she expected to see in her life.
"I think your axes are gonna be out of the question." Ja'anya said, pointing a surprised finger. "And for obvious reasons."
"I thought yautja weapons were tougher then human ones". Alaric said, picking the two ends and tossing them out of the ring. "This happens every time I block their weapons with the axe blade."
She threw one of the staff weapons to him and caught it; he looked at it admiringly appreciating yautja craftsmanship with its subtle details. He placed his own axe back down and readied himself.
Ja'anya bowed to him; combi-stick ready and Alaric did the same. He had studied some yautja etiquette from some accounts of others who encountered the yautja and what he saw during his jungle stay. With that Ja'anya charged at him and attacked. He blocked her many stick thrusts and spinning kicks and she evaded his staff swings.
Alaric had to admit that he enjoyed this, the chance for some recreational training then the fight-for-your-life regime back on that planet. He also noted Ja'anya's fighting style, using her smaller then average body to evade attacks more effectively. That would make her an excellent skirmisher.
Ja'anya watched Alaric block her blows without breaking his stride. He showed remarkable endurance far beyond any humans she hunted and had a determined mind. Once he had set his mind on trying to beat her in the ring he wasn't going to let anything stop him.
She locked her stick with his staff and they started to struggle against each other. They had been in this match for roughly three hours, stopping for the occasional rest and Alaric wasn't even tired, but Ja'anya was starting to slowdown yet she still fought on determined. They were both sweating as much as a xenomorph salivates, the sweat on their bodies making their skin shine in the light.
"You don't give up do you" Ja'anya said playfully.
"Nope, Slayers never fight deliberately to lose." he said. "That is no way for a warrior to die"
"So Slayers don't kill themselves?" she said. "Even when there is no hope of victory?"
She pulled the staff away from him with her stick and threw that away before lunging at him. He rolled backwards countering her attack, he put his feet up, caught her on them and pushed her into the air where she landed on her outstretched arms and flipped back up. He got up breathing heavily.
"Suicide isn't the way for slayers. To me, its the coward's way out." he said. "You either accept your fate or don't bother fighting in the first place."
That were some of the things his father's squad quoted from his father, Slayer lore as he called it.
"Interesting teachings." Ja'anya said, raising her stick to prepare for another attack.
Alaric seized his moment.
He charged at her and barreled into her body. He got her around her chest, pulling her down to the floor hard where they landed. She immediately pushed against him, using his weight against him, forcing him onto his back with a notable thud on the padded floor and she sat on top of him, her dreadlocks hanging down.
"Bugger, I fell for that, literally." Alaric panted.
"The hunter had become the hunted." Ja'anya said in victory, looking down at the loser.
They stayed there for what was like an eternity, Ja'anya's violet eyes staring into Alaric's red eyes. None of them knew why they had started to do that untill Alaric came to his senses and pushed her off him, catching the huntress off guard.
"No, I must not let myself get into that again" he said as he pushed back his hair and got up.
He walked over and retrieved his axes and walked out the room. Ja'anya sat there thinking, why did she just stare at him like that?
Whats with me? she thought to herself, trying to make sense of herself. Am I starting to get attracted to this ooman? He cute, strong, wise but…so much pain in his heart.
She looked at her hand and saw the ant heads were starting to come off as they lost their vice-like grip. She unwound the bandage and she gently prised them off. She was surprised and happy that the cut had healed up nicely in such short time. There wasn't even a scar.
He wasn't fooling around, she thought. It is better then cauterizing.
She picked herself up and picked up the discarded combi-staffs before she placed them back into the cabinet, excluding the broken one which she disposed of. She then went out of the room pushing back her dreadlocks and, to her surprise, she saw Alaric in the hallway.
He was sitting on the deck, in one hand was the locket of his wife and son and his eyes were covered by the other. His eyes were shut as if he was meditating and he was whispering to himself indistinctly.
She came over and watched him. The words he was saying was nothing like she had heard before, she never heard any other hunters use them whether mimicking human speech or anything. She placed a hand on his bare shoulder, his eyes jolted open and he looked at her.
"I'm sorry about that" he said.
It was like he was gathering his thoughts about what had just happened. She looked at him reassuringly and sat down beside him.
"Are you alright?" Ja'anya asked.
"Yes, I am." he told her. "Its just you remind me of my wife. She was a medic in the forces and we met when she was tending to a shrapnel wound in my leg."
Ja'anya gave a small giggle.
"I guess history repeated itself when I saw you." she joked.
"I just call it a coincidence" Alaric stated, not chuckling in the slightest.
"What conflict was it when you and her met?" she asked.
Alaric remembered the day perfectly, as it was one of the few days he was happy.
"It was in the Tyran conflict." he told her. "My battalion was sent there to quell down an extremist incursion. The same one where I fulfilled my ancestor's oath. But of course I didn't want to get into a relationship until my oath was fulfilled. She was an incentive as it turned out."
The priest stood there at the alter as Alaric paced over to him, an axe in his hand. The priest ordered many a cultist to stop Alaric and every single one was cut down. Then the priest had ran out of human shields. The priest could only watch horrified as a blood covered Alaric raised the axe and brought it down on him. Alaric felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him as he watched the lifeless body fall down the egg pit's shaft. Then an explosion erupted from below as the priest's suicide charge detonated. The grudge had been settled. Now, for the first time, he could live.
"Were you meditating?" she asked, her eyes shining with inquisitiveness.
Alaric clasped the locket together and let it drop down on to his tags making them jingle.
"In a way. It helps to bring peace to my mind." he said. "Learned from a Buddhist monk on the trip to Floria VII."
"You meditate often?"
Alaric nodded. He took a breath as what he was going to say, Ja'anya might not believe him. Like before he chose his word carefully.
"In my dreams, ever since their deaths, I can see my family." he explained. "A pale, ethereal vision of themselves. They stand there, tortured in the manner they had been during their final moments, calling for help that never comes.". He took a breath. "Also, I can see a masked warrior standing beside me, Grimnir the first slayer. In times of need, I use his counsel to guide me in my mission."
Now he's showing more familiar practices, Ja'anya thought. He should meet one of the elders.
"You worship your ancestors like my people do?". She said. "I didn't think oomans do that anymore."
"In a way, yes. However, only those of his blood can see him and I'm his only living descendant, it's a complicated matter.". He sighed. "Even then it is only images that I can see. Cryptic most of the time, but I can still see the faces of those murderous bastards, standing there and laughing while my family is being tortured."
He looked at one of his axes, watching it shine in the light.
"Maybe, just maybe, when each of them is dead, then the nightmares will end."
Ja'anya still had her hand on his shoulder as she remembered the day of her father's funeral. It was a sad but necessary occasion.
She stood hand in hand with her mother as they watched several yautja hunters bear the stretcher with her father's armoured body on it. He had died the previous day, shortly after he returned to the ship with the medicines he had gathered. Despite his fellow healers' attempts, he died of his wounds. The only consolation they had was that the sick were recovering thanks to her father's sacrifice. Ja'anya watched as his body was placed in the coffin. His combi-staff was brought forth and placed with him. His mask was then placed on his chest. Then her mother and she walked up to him. Her mother touched her forehead to his in farewell and she then lifted Ja'anya up so that she could do the same. Ja'anya touched her forehead to her father's and them she held a small pendent. It was a wood carving that she had made for when he would get back and it was a carving of his favourite plant. She placed it on his chest before she was lowered back down. The coffin lid closed and the alter sank down into the deck, taking the coffin with it.
Her thoughts were interrupted by an unwelcome guest.
There was an alarm claxon, a high sharp squeal. Ja'anya got up and rushed to the cockpit with Alaric following her. She got to the bridge and was looking out of the view screen. There was a ship, a ship coming right for them at great speed. A Yautja ship no doubt and it looked like the same ship type as Ja'anya's except this one was more, for lack of a better word, evil.