T.P.C. Chapter Eight

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"You want me to do what?!"

Nrak'ytara had a difficult time suppressing a chuckle at seeing Samantha's surprised face but she just managed to keep her emotionless expression. Still in the conclave chambers, the others eyed the two with amusement. Their own chuckles did not help her.

"I want you to come with us to the summit," she repeated. The Ooman's surprise didn't change in the slightest.

"You want me . . . to come to a summit of aliens that could break me like a toothpick? What the hell for?!"

"You said yourself that there was a reason the bad bloods were taking humans. You need to know why don't you?"

"Yeah but I'm not suicidal about it!" She backed up as the cheiftess leaned in closer to her.

"My ship, my rules. You are coming with us."

They stared each other down for a moment until the Ooman released a sigh of defeat.

"Fine, I suppose I don't have much of a choice." Nrak'ytara smiled.

"You don't. And don't feel too bad. You are an important part of the delegation."

"Really?" she asked unenthusiastically.

"Of course, when they're killing you, it will give me time to escape."

"Yippee."

-0-

"So it's all up to the females?" Trent asked in confusion. Hul'tah nodded in confirmation but the sergeant couldn't help but ask. "Why?"

"Too few females. Originally, males would choose what females they wish for mates. If two males want the same female they would fight to the death for her. For us that is a problem as there are less than thirty females in the clan. That means a lot of fights. So instead it is the females who chose their mates. If two females want the same male, then they share."

"They share?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief. Hul'tah smiled.

"Females are very understanding."

"Lucky bastards."

-0-

Bill was very uncomfortable. As a child he was always nervous around crowds. Going through marine training allowed him to get over his fear. However being in a room with a large group of aliens that hunt his kind for sport managed to bring back his old phobia. He sat in-between the captain and his sister Samuel and Al'nagara sparring. He couldn't pay attention though, the crowd getting to him. A nudge to his side brought his attention to his sister. She gestured to a break in the crowd, on the other side being an open space free of any occupants. He nodded his gratitude before getting up and making his way away from the group. He released the breath he was holding when he finally made it to the empty space. Only it wasn't entirely empty. A few feet away from him sat a Yautja he recognized as one of the prisoners from earlier. The alien had his head down, his hands held together tightly almost as if he was nervous. Do Yautja get nervous? Having his own trepidation replaced with curiosity, he made his way to the Yautja. When he got close to him, he jumped in his spot but relaxed a moment later.

"Hello," he said. "My name is Bill Runner, what's yours?"

The Yautja looked at him for a moment, his head cocked to one side slightly.

"H'dlak," he said simply. Bill stood there for a moment before asking again.

"Is that the name the cheiftess gave you?"

He didn't respond at first, seeming to struggle with the words.

"Ooman . . . language . . . not good speak."

"Oh," he slapped himself mentally. Of course not every Yautja would speak perfect English. "Sorry." His head cocked again.

"Why . . . sorry?"

"Sorry, it's just something we humans do." Another pause.

"Oomans . . . strange." Bill couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yeah, you can say that again."

"Why say . . . again?'

"Oh sorry I just meant, uh, never mind."

They stood there for a moment, the awkward silence bearing down on them. Bill shuffled his feet for a moment. H'dlak gestured to the spot next to him on the bench which he gladly took. Bill was hesitant to ask his next question, not wanting to offend him but he couldn't think of anything else.

"Why were you a prisoner?"

H'dlak stared off into the crowd for a moment before releasing a sigh.

"Coward," he said while pointing to himself. "Run from . . . hunt . . . abandon others. That why . . . name mean fear."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?" he asked bitterly.

Bill took a moment to think before answering.

"Because I can't do anything about it. It's in human nature to apologies for something they couldn't change."

"Not fault,"

"No but I couldn't do anything about it either, which is why I say sorry."

They sat there in silence again before H'dlak spoke.

"Thank you." Bill smiled.

"Glad I could help."

-0-

Al'nagara tightened the grip on his sword. He lifted his hooked long sword, the blade ready to cut down his opponent. Less than two meters in front of him stood his younger brother. Dah'nagara stood motionless; the only thing showing his attentiveness was the extended blade on his wrist. Al'nagara growled only to be met with silence. He shouldn't be surprised; all that training with Na'deha made him pick up a few habits. The crowd gathered around was silent as they waited for one of them to make the first move; the only sound in the room was the steady beat of drums. Releasing a roar, Al'nagara charged his younger brother, bringing his sword down. His sword met only air as his face met a fist. He didn't hesitate to swing his sword again and wasn't surprised to meet air once again. What did surprise him was that when he turned around, Dah'nagara was nowhere to be seen. He cursed silently to himself as he had left his mask in his quarters. He enjoyed the challenge of fighting without his mask but he should have known Dah'nagara would cheat. His eyes roamed around slowly, attempting to find his target. It was too late as he felt a blow to the back of his knee, faltering him slightly. He swung his sword again, and once again was met only by air. Releasing a grunt in frustration, Al'nagara closed his eyes. He waited and listened. He could hear a great many things, the breathing of the crowd, the humming of the ships engine, the-

He grunted as the fist connected with his jaw. He roared in anger.

'Oh pauk this!'

Holding tight onto his sword, he held it out and begun to spin, sweeping the blade around him. The shaft of a spear shoved between his feet caused him to lose his balance and another punch to his face sent him on the ground. Before he could stand the tip of a familiar wrist blade was pressed to his forehead. Dah'nagara materialized before him, his expression hidden by his mask.

"You lose," he said simply while extending his hand.

Grasping the offered hand, Al'nagara rose to his feet.

"You cheated."

"This is news to you?"

The laugh they shared was short as Al'nagara made his way toward the humans that stood in the crowd. He was confused for a moment. Weren't there five Oomans? Shrugging it off, he turned back to watch the next fight: Dah'nagara fighting another challenger. His attention was brought away from it for a moment when the Ooman Samantha joined the group, the scowl he learned to be normal for her still on her face.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Sparring matches," the warrior replied. "Best way to past the time."

The crowd cheered as Dah'nagara shined his targeting laser into the challenger's eye, giving him the time to floor him.

"Wait, isn't that cheating?" Al'nagara's mandibles formed the Yautja version of a grin.

"We have a saying: Bad Bloods don't fight fair so neither do we. They say the best warriors can beat their opponents even with the disadvantage. Unfortunately for them, Dah'nagara is the best at fighting dirty."

Turning back to his brother, he saw that yet another challenger was beaten in that short moment.

Damn he's fast.

Dah'nagara raised his hands in the air, his attitude challenging any who would fight him.

"Arrogant pauk," he said mostly to himself. "There's a reason he's a member of the conclave," this time directed to the Oomans. "Having such a high rank brings him lots of challengers, but I think he enjoys showing his skills a little too much."

No one responded to Dah'nagara's challenge until the crowd parted for the towering Yautja that walked by them. Dah'nagara turned to face P'kya'uha, the two staring each other down for a full minute. P'kya'uha drew her spear slowly, extending it fully, while Dah'nagara drew his sword. Al'nagara scoffed at the action. The Oomans looked at him in confusion. Seeing this Al'nagara responded.

"Dah'nagara only draws his sword against those he truly believes to be a challenge."

"That's Dad's sword."

The group looked to the captain. He stood there stoically, staring at the piece of metal. Next to him, Samantha turned her gaze to the sword and nodded in agreement. The confused warrior looked between the two Oomans for a moment until the cheers of the crowd brought his attention back to the fight. P'kya'uha's spear spun so quickly it was nothing but a blur as she charged his brother. Al'nagara almost felt bad for him as he struggled to block the female's blows. Almost. P'kya'uha flipped, jumped, and spun circles around Dah'nagara, the only reason he kept his balance being that he was also quick on his feet. It did not last as without even realizing it yet, Dah'nagara's feet were swept out from under him, the tip striking the floor an inch from his helmet as he hit the ground. The crowd cheered but none of them were surprised. There was a reason why P'kya'uha was second in command at such a young age. She reached her hand down, her opponent grasping it firmly, and brought him to his feet. Their hands lingered for a moment before Dah'nagara shook his head and pulled away. Al'nagara groaned. Their attraction was obvious but Dah'nagara just wouldn't recognize it. Must be an Ooman thing.

The shrill beeping of his wrist device sounded in his ears. They had arrived at their home world. Looking up, he saw Dah'nagara and P'kya'uha had received the same alert as they were making their way to the shuttle bay. He looked back to the Oomans again and pointed at the L.C.

"Come on, we're here."

"Joy."

They both made their way to the shuttle, the others staying behind. When they reached the hangar the others were waiting for them. He looked around at the delegation. Nrak'ytara and Jessica would represent their groups, Dah'nagara and P'kya'uha serving as guards, while Na'deha, himself and a few others would look after the ship. Entering the ship, they made no delay to take off, leaving behind the Kjuhte N'ritja, entering the atmosphere of the planet below.

-0-

"So this is Yautja Prime."

Dah'nagara's eyes scanned over the city before him. The city was made of a different metal than the clan ship, a jagged metal almost like stone. The buildings stood on different levels like their pyramids but resembling ranges of mountains. They stretched out to the horizon stopping at the line to a thick jungle. The planets rings and two suns dominated the sky and bathed the whole landscape in a red tint. Dah'nagara looked to his right to see his brother taking in the view as well.

"What do you think?" he asked him. Al'nagara gave him an uncommitted shrug.

"Personally, I think Earth is better, it's much more inviting."

"Agreed, at least the stares I get there are out of confusion."

The moment the ramp had lowered, it seemed like every Yautja there wanted to kill them. More than likely they did. Even now, the dock workers glared daggers at them.

"Dah'nagara, let's go."

He turned to see Nrak'ytara and P'kya'uha were ready to leave, P'kya'uha's long rifle and spear on her back while Nrak'ytara's cloak hid her right arm which held her very deadly wrist blades. Samantha stood behind them, her flamethrower/assault rifle strapped to her back. He nodded to his brother before following the three females.

They passed many Yautja on the way and each one of them stared. It was not something they saw every day. Two humans, one wearing Yautja armor, an armed female Yautja, and another female wearing the garb of a clan chief. After less than half an hour they reached their destination: a large pyramid towering over the surrounding buildings, the great hall of the Yautja capital where the summit is taking place. It was easily the size of the Kjuhte N'ritja which was in no way a small ship as it dwarfed most of the ships that floated above the city. The sound of growls and argument reached their ears as they walked deeper into the massive building. They stepped through an archway and were met with a sight that would scare the most battle hardened of humans. The room was divided into sections of walkways all cascading down to a large platform at the bottom. On every flat surface was a Yautja warrior ranging from old veterans to walls of muscle. In the center platform stood a group of arguing clan chiefs and the oldest Yautja Dah'nagara has ever seen. Even without ever seeing him before, he knew exactly who it was. The grand elder, ruler of Yautja prime. Said to be so old that his true age is unknown. Most say he is over 1,200 seasons, far more than most Yautja live to, but looking at him Dah'nagara couldn't believe he was more than 700. He stood there impassive of the arguing chiefs. Dah'nagara turned his gaze to the arguing chiefs. The City hunter chief and another he didn't recognize.

"They are simple raids, nothing more."

"Oh then care to tell me why twenty two clans have not shown to the summit? Simple raids do not cause that many clans to go missing."

"Yes," called out another chief. "And our leader does nothing about it."

A guard next to the elder growled in response.

"Hold your tongue whelp!" The chief ignored him and looked to the other Yautja.

"The Twin Moon clan, the Holy Dagger clan, even the mighty Mountain Hunter clan is missing! And what does the elder do? Nothing!"

"That is why he invited us."

The hall quieted as they turned to their small group. Dah'nagara is not scared of anything but damn if 900 Yautja sending death glares at him didn't come close. What's worse is the fact that the elder's impassive face turned to annoyance when he saw them and that alone was enough to send chills down his spine. Nrak'ytara stepped forward.

"Nrak'ytara, chieftess of the Blood Hunter clan for those of you who do not already know."

"What the pauk is this?!" one of the chiefs yelled. "You would allow a female to come here?!" The other Yautjas growled in aggrement.

"Believe me it was not a choice I wanted to make," he said in a deep, resonating voice. Nrak'ytara faced down the room with not a single trace of fear or hesitation.

"You called us here elder; I can only assume it is because of our knowledge of Bad Bloods."

The elder's guard growled once again.

"You dare to speak to the grand elder?"

"Have a voice, I will use it," she responded calmly.

"You aren't worthy of being c'jit on the bottom of my boot let alone talking to the elder."

"I am within my right as a chieftess to speak with my own grandfather," she deadpanned.

The room was silent once more. Every eye in the room widened in surprise including Dah'nagara's. The guard merely growled louder.

"How dare you insult the grand elder in such a way you filthy Lou-dte kalei!"

Dah'nagara cringed. He really shouldn't have said that. Nrak'ytara was silent as she stood there for a full minute without moving. When she finally did, she turned her back on the guard. This was the last straw for him apparently as he released an earsplitting roar and charged her, bringing his wrist blade to plunge into her back. In the blink of an eye, Nrak'ytara spun, driving her left elbow into the warrior's wrist, shattering the bones. Before a single sound of pain came from him, the chieftess plunged her blades into his forehead. He dropped to the ground with a large thump. Everyone stared in awe and shock as she faced them again.

"Anyone else?!"

No one dared to say anything. Turning back to the elder she spoke.

"Shall we continue with the summit?"

He nodded in answer. He raised his wrist device, pressing a few keys before a large hologram appeared above him. In it, several Yautja readied their weapons and faced a sealed door which was being cut through.

"This is footage that was sent to us by the survivors of the Mountain Hunter clan before we lost contact with them."

The door in the footage burst open and from it came what seemed to be an endless amount of Kainde Amedha. Including abominations. The Yautja warriors were torn apart in seconds. When the carnage finished, the Kainde Amedha stood aside to allow more figures to enter the room. It was a Berserker followed by Bad Bloods. Without turning to the downed Yautja's still working wrist device, the plasma caster on his shoulder swiveled, shooting the device ending the recording. The elder looked at the speechless chiefs before speaking once again.

"As you can see, things are much graver than what we thought before."

"If I could just say something."

The elder turned to see Samantha walk forward.

"Now I have no idea what any of you said but I get the gist of it, Bad Bloods are controlling xenomorphs." Nrak'ytara spoke up, translating what the human female had said to the chiefs.

"That said, I feel the need to point out that many human colonies have gone dark. We had only just recently learned that it was Bad Bloods who attacked them and captured the colonists, but we had no idea why. Now we do."

"They are building an army," Nrak'ytara finished for her. The room erupted in protests and growls.

"That's not possible, how could they control the Kainde Amedha?!"

"We don't know," spoke the elder, "but how they are doing it is not important. What is important is that we stop them."

"If I may elder?" Nrak'ytara spoke up. He nodded allowing her to speak.

"The Bad Bloods and the Berserkers have joined forces and they control the Kainde Amedha. This is not a force we can stop on our own . . . we need the Oomans."

Dah'nagara nearly went deaf with all the shouts of anger filling the room. Even the elder seemed angry.

"Are you insane?!" one chief called out. "Why would we need the Oomans?"

"Because we have numbers!" Samantha yelled out, having the conversation being translated by P'kya'uha. "There are billions of humans, Billions. Our leaders will understand that if the Bad Bloods kill you, we won't stand a chance. At least they will when we break the news to them."

The grand elder growled; an action that sent a shiver down all of their spines.

"There is much that I put up with, your very presence for one thing. But if you think I will degrade myself and my race to accept the help of lowly Oomans, than you are truly a fool."

Before any of them could continue, a loud boom shook the building.

"What was that? Was that an explosion?"

"We are in the very center of the building, it couldn't have been an-"

The side wall of the hall burst forth, the debris crushing several Yautja ending their lives instantly. Through the hole they could see hundreds of ships in battle over the city, smoke rising from many places among the buildings. Suddenly, an entire legion of Kainde Amedha charged in through the hull.

"Yautja, to arms!" shouted the elder. All of the chiefs drew their weapons and cut through the attackers. Before he could join them, Dah'nagara's arm was grabbed and he was pulled to the side. He turned to see the others in his group running for the door.

"Back to the ship!" his mother ordered him.

They ran out the building into what could only be called hell. All around them was the sound of clang of clashing weapons, discharge of casters, and dying screeches. What made those screeches, he couldn't tell. Any enemy that came close to them was easily dropped by either P'kya'uha's long rifle or Samantha's flamethrower. After what seemed like hours, the shuttle finally came into view, though that brought no good thoughts. Blood Hunter warriors easily cut down the Bad Bloods that attacked them but there were too many. Na'deha and Al'nagara fought to keep the disgraced Yautja at bay. Cutting the head off another bad blood, Al'nagara turned and saw Dah'nagara running towards them. In that single moment, Dah'nagara felt like his chest was torn open, screaming as he ran faster to his brother. Al'nagara looked confused before he looked down at the sword that erupted from his chest. Spitting green blood from his mouth he fell to the ground. Dah'nagara looked to the attacker. It was a bad blood with a smooth red mask with three claw marks running down the middle. The bad blood ran off into the crowd. Dah'nagara paid him no heed; he just needed to get to his brother.

"Al'nagara!"

He slid to his knees beside his brother. With all the strength he could muster, he pushed him onto his back. Al'nagara coughed blood again. What was happening around them faded from existence, all Dah'nagara could comprehend was his brother dying in his arms.

"Dah'nagara,"

"Don't speak!" Dah'nagara's voice was, for the first time, breaking. Al'nagara lifted his arm. In his hand was his beloved hooked long sword. Dah'nagara grasped his brother's hand tightly. Al'nagara spit more blood from his mouth before his head slowly fell back to the ground. Dah'nagara choked. In all his life, through the training and the bullying, even as a baby, Dah'nagara never indulged his human instinct to cry. But now, for the first time in his life, the great human hunter Dah'nagara shed tears. He slowly rose to his feet, his short sword in his right hand and his brother's in his left. He turned to the battle that was still raging on around him. The fighting warriors froze as he released a shout. Not an inhuman one, but one that they all on some level feared from the supposedly weaker species. It was a cry of vengeance. He charged forward, sword in each hand, and he cut through every bad blood in his way. They tried to attack him only to be struck down by the human turned demon. More and more enemies fell as his blades were coated in their blood eventually to the point where the metal seemed to be green rather than black.

"Dah'nagara!"

He turned to see P'kya'uha on the shuttle ramp.

"We have to go!" His gaze went to his brother's body.

"Al'nagara!"

"I've got him!" Na'deha called as he grabbed the fallen warrior's body. They both ran aboard the shuttle, the ramp closing behind them. Even when they exited the planet's atmosphere, not one of them relaxed nor did they speak a word. The only sound that could be heard was the human's sobs as he lent over his brother's body.

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