T.P.C. Chapter Seven
Another long one, enjoy! Disclaimer!
Disclaimer: Only OCs are owned by LoveForeverNow.
Hayato Hibiki, one of the few remaining Yakuza crime lords, sat on his knees in his personal quarters. The room was bare except for a few lit candles providing a dim light that lit up the paper walls and a stand holding up a single ornate katana. His dark hair and suit glowed in the small flames light as his even darker eyes roamed over the sword in front of him. The only sound in the room was the almost undetectable sound of the candles burning. He reached his hand out grasping the katana from the stand. He looked it over once more before removing it from its sheath. It shined in the light as he rose to his feet, removed the jacket of his suit, and unbuttoned the collar of his white dress shirt. Turning so he faced the door, he stood in a defensive position. In between him and the door a figure materialized into existence. He stood slightly taller than him and wore what looked to be a gas mask, dreadlocks hanging off the back, a fishnet mesh suit with armor in several places, and a large blade on his right forearm. The stranger cocked his head to one side like a curious animal, no doubt wondering how he had been noticed. In truth, Hayato never heard him, but he didn't hear a sound from outside, which never happened. There were always guards posted outside making some form of noise. Being quiet outside meant one of two things, the first being that they left which they would never do or they were dead. Seeing the stranger in front of him only proved that they were indeed dead. Hayato stared into the empty eyes of the stranger's mask, him returning the gaze. The two warriors sized each other up for what felt like hours but was no more than a few seconds. Hayato slowly raised his katana, a single bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. The stranger arched his back and slowly raised his arm with the blade.
The crime lord broke the silence as he let out a cry of aggression, running towards the stranger sword raised. He brought it down in an arch that was easily blocked. He swung again at his side only to have it blocked again. The two exchanged blows circling around the room, the sound of ringing metal filled the small space. They circled until Hayato's back faced the door. Linking their blades together, the stranger delivered a kick to his chest, pushing him through the thin doors. He shot to his feet still facing his opponent, only taking a millisecond to glance at the bodies of his guards on the wooden floor. Keeping his opponent in front of him, the yakuza backed into the gardens of his large home. This time the stranger charged at him, bringing his wrist blade down in a high arch. Ringing metal continued to ring as they exchanged blows and strikes once again. Using his superior agility, Hayato swung his leg hoping to sweep his attacker's feet out from under him. He was surprised when the stranger jumped over not just his leg but his whole body. When he landed he threw a strong punch with his left hand into the crime lord's cheek. The force of the blow knocked him down to the ground, stunning him for a short time.
Hayato rose to his feet, gazing at the stranger in front of him with questioning eyes. He had plenty of time to plunge his blade into him while he was on the ground. He had the perfect chance to end the fight. Why didn't he take it? His silent question was only met with the raising of his wrist blade once again. He didn't attack, only waited as if he was allowing the yakuza to attack first. Did he not want the fight to end? Was he having fun with this? Clearing his thoughts, Hayato raised his katana again and charged. Their fighting brought them all over the compounds of the crime lord's home as they tried to get the upper hand of the fight. Once again, Hayato was hit by another kick sending him through the main doors of the compound. He blocked more and more blows, backing away as he was forced on the defensive. Before he even realized, the two found themselves on a grassy cliff overlooking the forests below. He was so focused on the fight he hadn't realized where he was being forced back to. As the stranger struck again his foot slid slightly on the wet grass. To anyone else, it would seem like nothing, but Hayato saw the opportunity. He moved his own foot and pushed his opponent's heel throwing him off balance. With a great battle cry, Hayato brought his katana down only to have it blocked by the stranger's gauntlet. The same one holding his blade. His blow cut into the glove just enough to sever the connection of the blade sending it across the ground. Before he could strike again, another kick to his chest sent him back onto the grass.
When he got to his feet the stranger was eyeing the gauntlet. His hands glided over the damaged tool. Although his body language did not give away much, Hayato swore the stranger almost seemed impressed. Taking his gaze away from his ruined gauntlet, the stranger faced Hayato once again, reaching down to his hip and pulling out a sword similar to his katana but shorter, a different handle, and made from a black metal. They both raised their swords and charged each other. The two warriors clashed together on the Cliffside like rivals in an ancient tale. Using the bone guard of his sword, the stranger locked Hayato's katana, wrenching it from his hands and threw it away from them. In his shock, Hayato's legs were swept out from under him by the same move he had used earlier. Before he could rise, the tip of the stranger's sword was pressed to his neck.
As he looked up into the stranger's mask, fear found its way into Hayato's mind. How did this happen? How was he defeated? What is he?
"What the hell are you?"
The next few seconds went by agonizingly slow as the stranger seemed to consider what to do with him. His decision was made as he took the tip of his sword away from the fallen man. The Yakuza stared wide eyed at the stranger as he backed away from him for a few feet before turning around. He bent down and picked the katana off the ground. He walked away leaving the crime lord alone on the cliff. Hayato Hibiki rose to his feet staring after the stranger who had defeated him. Turning to the cliff he gazed out across the forest and the mountains in the distance. He walked forward until he was at the very edge of the cliff where grass turned to open air. Taking a final step, Hayato Hibiki plummeted until everything went black.
-0-
Dah'nagara woke up with a start, a cold sweat covering his body. He looked around to find himself in his room aboard the Kjuhte N'ritja. The room was silent except for the soft breathing of Shi. The shepherd slept in the corner of his room closest to the door. Dah'nagara chuckled at his pet's protectiveness of him. Thinking back on the dream, his gaze was drawn to the trophy wall that took up the entire one side of his room. His eyes glazed over the various teeth, skulls, and masks of his prey until they finally landed on the curved sword that was the katana from his dream. Memory, to be more specific. Walking over to his trophies, he took the weapon from its stand eyeing the smooth steel of the blade.
Dah'nagara's mind filled with questions about his most favorite hunt two seasons ago. What was that last part of the dream? He left his opponent on the hill and didn't look back; he didn't see what became of him. Speaking of which, why did he have that dream in the first place? He rarely ever dreamed and when he did it was always about P'kya-
Shaking his head of the blush climbing his neck he replaced the sword and moved to the opposite wall of his room. This one held his armor and weapons. Unlike others in his clan, Dah'nagara believes in only having what he needs, this shown by his wall holding only his spear, caster, wrist blade, short sword, armor, and his helmet. Donning his armor and weapons, he placed his helmet over his head switching through its many vision settings making sure each one is working correctly. Satisfied that each one is working properly, he set it back to color and turned to his still sleeping partner. As if knowing she was being watched, Shi raised her head then to her feet as she walked to her master receiving a scratch behind the ears in return. Turning to his door, Dah'nagara and his faithful companion stepped through the door into the hall.
Looking about, he saw that the only one awake aside from him was the human known as Corporal Williams, who stood leaning against the wall next to his door. Neither said anything as they waited for the others to rise from their beds. Blinking his eyes, Dah'nagara wished he could return to his own. Shi quickly circled before lying down in a corner and slept once again.
"Traitor," he chuckled at the dog. She only yawned in response to him.
The sound of a door opening brought his attention away from the dog and toward the noise. P'kya'uha exited her quarters. Unlike Dah'nagara, the only armor she wore was her shoulder pads, leaving leather cloths to cover her female features. Her mask also hung from her belt allowing the green tinting her eyes and inner mouth to be seen. Not sure why, but he always liked green, especially on her. He shook his head again to clear the thoughts fighting their way into his mind.
"Good morning Dah'nagara."
He was trying so hard to forget his thoughts he had nearly thought she was only present in his mind which is why he jumped at hearing her voice. That heavenly voice- No! Stop that! He kicked himself mentally. Every time he got on this train of thought it took him hours to get off it.
"G-good morning P'kya'uha."
To his utter horror once again, she laughed at his stuttering. He always liked hearing her laugh. Kicking himself again he wondered why out of the entire clan ship she had to choose the room across from his. It only made the ship's mornings harder for him. There was a reason he choose a rather isolated part of the ship to make his sleeping quarters. He appreciated the silence of being alone and always preferred to be somewhat secluded from others. Though if he was completely honest with himself, he could never imagine P'kya'uha being too far away. He was snapped out of his thoughts as the older human, Samantha, Joshua's and by extent his aunt, emerging from her room, her brown hair long let down and her uniform in perfect condition. She eyed them both with criticizing green eyes before moving them to Williams, him giving a salute in return. She gestured he head to the rooms containing his fellow squad mates and he in turn nodded. Reaching into his pocket, he removed a small metal object with a hole in one side and one just behind it. The object was familiar to Dah'nagara but he couldn't quite remember what it was. Williams put the object to his mouth and released a loud shrill whistle that if not for his helmet would have hurt his ears. So that's what it does. Not a moment after the whistle was blown, four doors opened to reveal the rest of the squad. Trent, Bill, Jaz, and Joshua all stepped forward and saluted.
"At ease," Samantha ordered them.
Each one visibly relaxed except for Williams who never seemed to relax at all. He really did remind Dah'nagara of his uncle. P'kya'uha looked to him with confusion at their behavior. A shrug was her answer. Just because he was human didn't mean he knew everything about them. She stepped towards the group.
"Now that . . . whatever it was that you just did is over, we can you show you to the great hall."
With that she led the way down the hall, Shi following behind when Dah'nagara called with a sharp whistle. The drawback of being isolated from others was how long it took to reach the other parts of the ship; this shown by the twenty minutes it took them to reach the great hall. Making their way through the doors they entered to see a very large chamber capable of holding thousands of Yautja comfortably though now it only held a few more than fifty. The walls of the chamber were completely covered by carvings of Yautja slaying all kinds of different creatures. In several places were small pits similar to that of a fire pit in which Yautja would gather and exchange stories with each other. From behind him, Dah'nagara could hear the humans' awed gasps. He smirked under his helmet as he turned to face the group.
"Welcome to the great hall of the Kjuhte N'ritja. It is here that most of the clan spends their time while not training or working."
"Dah'nagara!"
They turned to see a Yautja with a familiar mask resembling that of a lion, his dreads the mane, walk towards them.
"Al'nagara!" Dah'nagara greeted his brother, placing their hands on each other's shoulders and giving a light shake.
"Dah'nagara, you and P'kya'uha must report to the council chambers."
The surprise on his face was hidden by his helmet but P'kya'uha's easily due to her mask being on her belt.
"What for, is something wrong?"
"Lei-jadhi's orders. They apply to you as well," he said facing Samantha. The human officer's seemingly constant frown deepened, probably from being ordered by an alien. Dah'nagara looked to the rest of the humans.
"What about them?"
"I'll keep an eye on them. You three better go though, you know how she doesn't like waiting."
With that, Dah'nagara and the two females walked through the crowd leaving behind Al'nagara and the human squad.
-0-
Al'nagara turned to face the group of humans before him. They looked back at him. The awkward silence that followed was luckily interrupted by Bill's wandering eyes.
"What are those?" he asked, pointing to a group away from them.
Al'nagara looked to where he was pointing and saw three figures on the edge of the group. They were shorter than the Yautja, the tallest being 6'9", but their skin was the same leathery material. But that is where the similarities ceased. Their legs were bent at a second spot between their knee and ankle; their arms were long ending with four fingers that were more like talons from how sharp their claws were. They had long narrow faces, two mandible plates on the side of their teeth filled mouths, and their eyes glowed yellow. One of them turned its head in their direction, gave a soft growl, and then returned its attention to its group.
"They are Sprinters," Al'nagara answered him. "They are a subspecies of Yautja. Not as strong or intelligent but they are much faster and hold a ferocity that rivals a Kainde Amedha."
"I don't see any others like them, are they the only ones?" Bill continued to ask.
Why are these Oomans so full of questions?
"Yes. Due to their lesser intelligence, they tend to stay on the home world, only leaving it when they are brought onto ships as servants. And no," he said cutting Bill off before he could ask anything else, "they are not our servants. We found them in chains in a bad blood camp. They did not wish to be returned to the home world so we allowed them to stay here."
The human nodded seeming to be satisfied with his answer which Al'nagara was grateful for. He hated having to always answer questions. That was always Dah'nagara's interest. The sound of claws scrapping against metal grabbed his attention. The humans tensed for a moment seeing the hell hound run towards them but relaxed when Shi ran up to it. They jumped around each other for a moment before chasing each other through the crowd, dashing between legs and eliciting several growls from the Yautja they bumped into. Al'nagara chuckled at their antics before returning his gaze to the humans.
"Don't mind Doz," he said, "He's harmless."
"I take it he's yours?" asked the human Joshua.
He took a moment to look at the brother of his brother. The Ooman was definitely older than Dah'nagara but he couldn't tell how much. His hair was different but gazing into his eyes he was surprised. They were different. Not in color, but in spark. Dah'nagara's eyes hold the flame of a warrior, one who lives for battle and glory. Joshua's on the other hand didn't hold such flame. They held embers that glowed in defiance as their light dimmed. He had the eyes not of a warrior, but of a soldier.
Returning to reality he glanced at the group before answering.
"Doz is but Shi belongs to Dah'nagara."
"Where exactly did he find a German Shepherd?" he asked again.
"Yeah, he doesn't seem to be the kind of person to go to a pet store," Trent joked.
"Pet store?" he said confused, cocking his head to the side. These Oomans never made any sense.
"Ignore him. That's what we do," Jaz said, getting chuckles and a grunt of annoyance in response. Shaking his head, he gave up trying to understand these Oomans.
"Dah'nagara found her on a hunt three seasons ago when she was merely a pup, abandoned and alone. He felt a certain . . . familiarity with her and brought her along."
The slowly increasing pounding of drums caught their attention. A large crowd began to form around two warriors. One of them was a newly blooded hunter with broad shoulders and he was surprisingly tall for a male, coming in at 7'8" rather than the average 7'2". The other he recognized as Na'deha. As the drums increased in intensity, the younger warrior arched his back and growled, attempting to intimidate his opponent. Na'deha stood silent and unmoving almost like a statue. His indifference seemed to anger the warrior. Any outsider watching the fight, like the humans, would see this as a tactic to make his opponent stupid. Al'nagara knows better. Na'deha's just an asshole. Na'deha finally made his move but it wasn't to attack. Instead he turned his back on the younger warrior. Al'nagara cringed at the insult. What did Dah'nagara say about it? The equivalent of a human spitting in your face? Something like that. That drove the warrior over the edge as the Yautja charged at Na'deha like . . . well, like a Yautja. Na'deha stood facing away from the charging youth until finally he turned slightly delivering a sideways kick into the warrior's stomach, using his own momentum to add to the power of the blow. As he flew back, Na'deha grabbed his ankle, yanked him back, and slammed his fist into his face. He was knocked unconscious as his head recoiled from the hit and slammed into the hard, metal floor. Al'nagara cringed again. He still remembered the pain he felt when Na'deha first did that to him. The drums ceased their intense rhythm and changed to a livelier one as the young warrior was dragged away. Al'nagara chuckled again, always entertained by hotshot young bloods.
"Ugh what the hell was that about?" Trent asked. Al'nagara shrugged.
"Who knows? Na'deha pissing someone off is a regular occurrence. In case you didn't notice . . . he's an asshole."
"Riiiigggghhht, so, what did they need Sam for?" Joshua asked.
"Who?"
"Dah'nagara."
"Oh, Nrak'ytara needed to speak to the clan's conclave about something urgent."
"A conclave? You have a conclave?"
"Yes, but we mostly do what Nrak'ytara tells us to. They act as more as advisors."
"Why aren't you on the conclave?" Trent asked before being elbowed by the female. "Ow, what? It's a legitimate question."
"No worries. I'm not a member of the conclave because my rank is not high enough. Two seasons ago, Dah'nagara challenged one of the members in combat. When he won, he took his place. I think he was trying to prove a point. After that the conclave includes Dah'nagara, Hul'tah, Vor'mekta, P'kya'uha as the second in command, Nrak'ytara as the clan leader and two other elders."
"So what did they need to speak about?"
Al'nagara pondered the question for only a moment before responding.
"Bad bloods."
-0-
Inside the conclave's chambers, Dah'nagara and the others waited patiently. The chamber was empty except for a table in the middle of the room and two three screens on the far wall overlooking the table. As there were no chairs they all stood around it. Vor'mekta and Nrak'ytara were already there, Hul'tah and the other elder arrived the same time they did, so they now waited for the last elder to arrive. They looked up when the door opened allowing the last elder to enter the chambers. Nrak'ytara stepped forward.
"Now that we are all here we can begin."
She reached down to her wrist computer and pressed a few Keys. After doing so, the outer two of the screens came to life showing the masked faces of two different Yautja, one with dark red markings and the other with deep green; The leaders of the City and Jungle hunters. They nodded their heads to her before eyeing Samantha.
"What is that Ooman doing there?" the red striped one asked with surprisingly little malice.
"She is here to represent the Oomans in our discussions," Nrak'ytara explained. The green one scoffed.
"What do the Oomans have to do with bad bloods?" Samantha stepped forward and before she could be stopped she spoke to the Yautja leaders.
"The human colony Hermes V-97 was attacked by bad bloods. The marines that were there at the time reported that the bad bloods were taking humans."
"What the pauk for?" Ah, there's the malice.
"That is what we wish to know," Nrak'ytara said before gesturing for the L.C. to continue. She faced the screens again.
"Over the past three years, colonies Helios 5, Kronos X-61, and Izanagi ST have all been attacked, the citizens of said colonies disappearing without a trace. Nothing left but rubble and smoke."
"You think the bad bloods attacked these colonies as well?" asked the Jungle hunter clan leader.
"It is certainly a possibility. Along with those colonies, several research and development stations, namely the ones researching xenomorphs, were breached and overrun due to outside means. One being a rouge praetorian finding its way into the station."
Dah'nagara felt his stomach drop. Looking over at P'kya'uha he saw she had similar thoughts. It was silent for a moment before the green striped leader spoke.
"This does not bode well." His voice was filled for what could almost be called fear.
"Is something wrong?" P'kya'uha asked the elder Yautja. He stared at nothing for a moment before speaking again.
"Bad bloods have been increasing in number recently, as have Berserker sightings."
"Berserkers?"
"Yes, the high council is becoming increasingly worried." Several growls could be heard in the room at the mention of the council. Even Dah'nagara growled with them.
"It gets worse. They have called a summit of the clans."
"What?!"
Everyone was shocked at the news. A summit hasn't been called for hundreds of seasons, not since the collapse of the first Blood Hunter clan. The same summit where they declared they would defeat the growing Berserker threat.
"I want you to come with us to the summit."
"What?!" No one saw that coming.
"Are you insane?!" Nrak'ytara said to the City hunter. 'They would shoot us out of the sky before we even reached the system and you want me to come to the summit?"
"I have already cleared it with the High Elder."
"WHAT?!" Okay, now it was just getting old.
"Yes, you are most certainly insane."
"The Blood Hunter Clan has more experience in killing bad bloods than anyone. The High Elder realizes this which is why he asked me himself to have you join us, although I was not supposed to tell that last part."
"Now I know you are lying. The High Elder wants nothing more than to tear my head off; you actually think I'll come? I'd much rather keep my head."
"Nrak'ytara, are you afraid?"
Silence.
"You are playing a dangerous game. Tread lightly with your next words."
"You are allowed two guards, one being your second. If anything happens you will have our help."
"Yes, nine against nine hundred, that we'll be enough."
"Glad you agree with me. So do you accept?"
Chuckling at the other leader, Nrak'ytara looked to the Blood Hunter's conclave, each member giving her a nod. She returned her gaze to the two screens.
"We will be there."