[Author's note: Apologies for the late completion of the next instalment. The final year at university is taking its toll on all activities which aren't work related, however, the next chapter is at last complete. If people still like the story/where it is heading, by all means let me know, reviewing the chapters is how I know you're all still interested in the story :). Anyhow, if there are any suggestions or things that people would really like to see in the story, I will do my best to incorporate it into what I have planned. Enjoy!]
Chapter 4:
Boiling Point
Even in the darkness of space, before embarking upon a hunt that may see his life's ending; even after finding out that his people may indeed be at war, Tygrhen could feel nothing else upon his first steps into the space station than utter elation. The other unblooded ones walked on with similar feelings, their heads darting about the place to see all that could be seen. One of the more experienced crew members who accompanied them snorted and shook his head at the sight of them so fascinated by what had become a rather menial sight for him. It reminded him of his first steps on the station when he was young.
Tygrhen stopped for a moment, raising his knee to support the weight of the crate he carried while he obtained a better grip. He continued to walk with the group down a corridor, the walls lined with metal but housing windows which ran across the tunnel in long sections. He looked out of the windows while walking, seeing part of the space station as well as other ships which had docked. A small vessel passed by directly next to the window, almost giving some of the unblooded ones a shock at its proximity.
They eventually came to a larger area beyond the corridor, where several of the paths leading from the loading bays met. This space had multiple storeys, the group Tygrhen was with coming out on the third level. The levels ran in donut-shaped rings down the room, causing the largest part of the area to be hollow, tube-like shape. Seeing the various floating droids hovering about the area reminded Tygrhen of a hollowed out log with insects flying about it. It was here that the unblooded ones saw the vastness of the crowd attracted to Il'thora. They saw not only Yautja here, but also other races unknown to them, most of them generally humanoid in appearance. Tygrhen approached the Yautja leading his group. "Kry'lan," he started. "What are all these races? I've never seen their likes before."
He nodded. "Aye, nor are you likely to save for this space station. There are other great races of advanced beings other than us, but they are seldom seen. Space is a vast, dark, cold place devoid of life. Well, mostly. Advanced races are far and few between and it is likely that unless this space station is found, few will ever see them. You see, this station is a place whereby we may all engage in trade. Since we are all so far apart in the galaxy, there are many unique items made all the more valuable for trade. Items that we'd never even see the likes of if it were not for Il'thora. This space station was once much smaller, but it was found by other races, and they assisted in making it what it is today."
"So, we'll never see these races again?" Tygrhen queried.
"Not likely," Kry'lan replied. "It was a slim enough chance that they found Il'thora. That in itself is only because this station is so far out in the middle of nowhere."
The group moved onwards, continuing down to the bottom level before walking through a variety of wide corridors and large multi-storey rooms. Tygrhen stayed close to his group, seeing many of the Yautja staring at him as if he was not allowed to be walking in the space station. He knew that if he were not with the group he would most probably be killed. Despite this, he continued to look at every sight there was to see, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly ajar in wonder. It was not long before they came to a supply hold, the large area filled with crates, large containers, vehicles and Yautja who were taking care of the space.
The group set down the equipment they were carrying. The cart-like object being wheeled along by the more senior crewmembers was filled to the brim with supply boxes. Tygrhen and the other unblooded ones moved in to help unload the boxes. As Tygrhen walked towards it, Kraezak walked past him, a crate in his arms. He deliberately barged into Tygrhen with his shoulder, giving the human a rather sour look before continuing onwards. "Don't worry about him," Vey'lek gave Tygrhen a playful slap on the shoulder.
Once the cart had been cleared of supplies Kry'lan shared a few words with the Yautja crewman whose duty it was to maintain the area. He turned to the small group of unblooded ones. "Your assistance has been most welcome," he paused as he was caught in a moment of reminiscing. "I remember when I first stepped onto this space station. I assume you all wish to explore it further while you've the chance. You may all go and see the sights, but do not under any circumstance go further than this supply area. I do not wish any of you to get too lost; I will be in charge of finding you if that happens. Kaur'an expects you all to attend a training session in the morning, so I would recommend spending no longer than three hours, for it is late and you will need your rest. Now all of you go and have some fun," he smiled and gave the group a nod.
The group of young hunters dispersed like a flock of birds flying from a predator. Through the corridors and rooms, the group grew smaller and smaller as the unblooded ones went their separate ways. Eventually, it was only Tygrhen, Vey'lek and Tor'wick left wandering by themselves through the many areas.
They walked through the large corridor-like stretches, finding their way to much larger stretches where there was far more pedestrian activity. The area they travelled along was like a series of very large elongated rooms with ceilings so high that the three almost felt as though they were on a planet's surface, while also being extensively wide. Shops and stalls were strewn about the sides of the rooms, jutting out like small growths on the walls themselves. The shops sold all manner of items, from weapons and armour to food and drinks.
The three stepped off towards the side for a moment to get their bearings straight. "Hey," started Vey'lek, mischief glinting in his eyes. "Do you think we can find any of the crewmembers of the ship we rescued?"
"Not likely," said Tor'wick. "They could be anywhere by now."
"So am I the only one who is curious to find out more about this 'artefact'?" queried Vey'lek.
Tygrhen hissed a shush, looking around to make sure no one had heard his comrade's words before the three started walking again. "Of course I want to know more," said Tygrhen as the three rounded a corner, stepping down some stairs and continuing onwards. "Where would we possibly find them, though?"
Vey'lek's eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement. "I may know where they are. I overheard a conversation they were having before we left."
"When was that?" asked Tygrhen.
"Back on the ship in the cargo bay, they were standing to our side quietly speaking to each other. Kry'lan and the other blooded ones we assisted were telling us about safety precautions or something, I wasn't paying attention."
"You not paying attention to something that could save your life. Why am I not surprised to hear this," said Tor'wick.
"Well, what I did pay attention to was the other crewmembers, who said where they would be meeting someone to drop off their 'special cargo'."
"Special cargo?" Tor'wick repeated in a soft voice. "That could only mean one thing. But we really should not be doing this!" he hissed.
"Indeed we shouldn't," Tygrhen agreed with a sober nod.
"But... we're still going to do this aren't we?" asked Vey'lek.
"Of course," said Tygrhen.
"Yes," Tor'wick replied casually at the same time as Tygrhen's response.
Vey'lek smiled a typical Yautja smile as the three set off down the main walkway. They found a console which provided an interactive map, allowing them to see where to go. They moved hastily through the main areas of the station until it was time to set off down a smaller corridor. They moved quietly and quickly, coming at last to the region they sought. The area they were in seemed rather deserted, most probably why it was chosen. A short hallway was set into the left of the narrow corridor. They walked down the hallway which only lasted several steps, turning to the door which lay to their right. The door to the room was open, and so they stepped through in a stealthy manner.
The room was deceptively large. They assumed it would be small due to its location, having such a narrow set of corridors leading up to it. There were voices deep within the room, and upon entering, the three companions noticed numerous large, metal crates strewn about the place. They snuck over a small pile of crates which lay close by to the door, choosing that location in case they needed to make a fast escape. They poked their heads out from their position, seeing several figures standing around a metal box, its edges no longer than an arm's length. There were four figures, all with their backs towards the three unblooded ones.
"The council will take it," said one of the figures. "We will keep it in safe storage until all of the others are recovered."
"Who will deliver it to them?" Tygrhen recognised the voice. "Our ship is too damaged and will require repairs which may take weeks."
'It's the Captain of the vessel we saved,' Tygrhen thought to himself.
"Then the task is yours it would seem," the first figure said, turning to one of the other silhouettes.
The shadowy form took a step forwards, looking at the box and nodding before turning back to the first figure. The three gasped silently as they saw Qui'aleen standing there. "Very well," he said. "I have matters which I must attend to first, but it will be a short stop along the way. I shall deliver it safely to the council. You have my word."
The first figure nodded. "Good. Then we must make prayer that the gods and our ancestors guide us to the last of the pieces before it is too late. More settlements are disappearing and we've no idea why. It is as if they are looking for something."
"Or someone," Qui'aleen broke in.
The first figure nodded and gave a grunt, agreeing with the elder's words, but finding them distasteful to hear. After a short silence, the first Yautja spoke again. "Then it is settled. The piece will return with Qui'aleen aboard his ship."
The conversation continued as those present wrapped up all that had been said. The three mischievous eavesdroppers knew that this was their cue to leave. They nodded to each other, quietly heading out the door. As they turned to leave, Vey'lek knocked one of the crates, sliding it to the very edge of the box it was stacked upon. The three hastily moved out of the doorway, looking back with grimaces upon their faces as they saw the crate slowly tilt and fall. "Run!" hissed Tor'wick.
They ran as fast as they could as they heard the footsteps of those in the meeting rushing towards the door. Adrenaline coursed through their veins, their legs almost shaking as they ran. Although they felt fear at first, after a short time, smiles came to their faces and the feeling of terror was replaced by excitement and childish fun, as if they were playing a game of 'hide and seek'.
They continued to run down the corridor, the footsteps still clanging against the metal floor behind them. "This way!" said Tor'wick, turning down a corner to his right.
This led to another corridor which was slightly wider. The footsteps of their pursuers still rung against the metal ground behind them, spurring them onwards at an even faster speed. They turned down another corner to their left this time. "Over here!" whispered Vey'lek, pointing towards a closed hatch set into the side of the door. He pressed a button, opening it to reveal what looked like an air vent. "What is that?" asked Tor'wick.
"Just get in!" said Tygrhen. "There's no time!"
Tygrhen put half his body head-first into the circular, metal rimmed tunnel. "I've got a bad feeling about this," Tygrhen muttered to himself.
The tunnel continued on a downward slope, and with a curse, Tygrhen propelled his body forward, sliding down the slope with no way of stopping. Vey'lek followed close behind, giving off a yelp of surprise as he started his slippery descent. Tor'wick paused in hesitation for a moment. As he heard the footsteps almost upon him, he jumped in through the tunnel feet first, closing the hatch behind him before he started to slither down the slippery metal.
Tygrhen felt disorientated as he slid in complete darkness. He tried to grab onto anything, but the metal was too slippery. The tunnel twisted to the left, causing Tygrhen to spin upside down for a moment before sliding back onto his belly. Behind him, he heard Vey'lek yell upon rounding the corner. Another shout sounded from Tor'wick.
As he continued to glide down the passageway a strange, acrid smell started to fill the air. He had smelt it on the ship, but he could not remember where. The smell grew stronger and in a moment of clarity, he remembered. It was the smell of disinfectant used for cleaning tools. The tunnel started to grow lighter as the smell grew stronger still. He tried to place his arms on either side of the passageway to slow down. His body started to move slower, but Vey'lek came crashing into him from behind, sending him back on his high speed descent as light started to effectively pierce the tunnel's darkness.
He saw luminosity at the tunnel's exit fast approaching, but there was nothing he could do to stop. He shot out of the exit and into a strange liquid. The fluid foamed as he splashed into it, stinging his eyes as he stood up and opened them. Vey'lek sent liquid and foam flying as he crashed into it. He rose to his feet, hearing a screech behind him as his brother came through the exit at high speed, knocking him over and sending yet more foam flying about the room. Tygrhen helped his two comrades up as they took a moment to study their surrounds.
The room was small and had four lights upon the ceiling, providing more than adequate illumination. Strong-smelling liquid filled the room, coming up to the three comrades' shins. Piles of tools and other metal objects lay in heaps in the liquid.
The three stood in silence, their heads slowly rotating about the room as they looked at the small area in which they landed. Looks of shock clung to the faces of the three before a Yautja smile flared on Vey'lek's face. "Let's do it again!"
They left the room and soon found an area in which they were able to wash the pungent fluid off their bodies, thus that their stench would not give away their impish eavesdropping. Filled with a mix of emotions ranging from fear to excitement, they made their way back to their ship after some time, getting lost only three times – an achievement for such 'masters' of direction as they.
They walked back along the corridor leading to their vessel, looking out the windows at the magnificent ships and the outer boundaries of the awe-inspiring space station. They gave the warriors who stood guard at the doorway a nod before proceeding onwards through their ship.
After turning down various corridors and passageways they neared their sleeping quarters. His two friends entered their rooms, and Tygrhen said his "goodnights" before proceeding towards his quarters. He stopped in his tracks as he saw Qui'aleen walking towards him, his heart starting to pound for fear that the elder had discovered him and his friends' ill-behaved deed. As the elder came closer, Tygrhen saw that his gait was slow and his gaze fixed on the ground, concern set into the very depths of his yellow eyes.
"Father," said Tygrhen, to which the elder's head shot up in surprise.
He smiled softly. "Ah, Tygrhen, it is just you. Should you not be in your quarters getting as much rest as possible for tomorrow?"
"I am going there now."
"Good," Qui'aleen nodded. "Good."
There was silence for a moment. "Is everything alright?" asked Tygrhen.
Qui'aleen momentarily masked the weariness that shrouded his face with a forced smile. "Yes, my child," he lied, pausing for a moment. "At least, it will be soon enough."
'I hope,' the elder thought to himself.
"Now go, little one," he ruffled Tygrhen's hair. "You've much ahead of you tomorrow. You must learn from Kaur'an all that you can, for your trial draws nearer with each passing breath."
Tygrhen smiled. "Yes, father. I will not disappoint you."
He walked onwards towards his sleeping quarters. There he lay upon his bed, thinking about the events of the day. Worry plagued his mind, yet still, sleep beckoned him into its warm embrace. He yielded to it, closing his eyes and letting the warm room comfort him as he drifted off to sleep.
The unblooded warriors woke the next day, filling their bellies with a meal before reporting to a training room with Kaur'an. When all the unblooded ones had arrived and were standing before Kaur'an, he started his training session with an introduction. "There is very little time left now until your hunt. This is the second last training session that we will have before your departure. If you pay attention and take heed of what I say, you will survive and bring honour to your families. Disregard my words and you will perish. Your enemy shows no fear, nor do they show mercy. You will learn all of this soon enough, but for today, you shall fight me. Who will be the first to accept the challenge?"
"I will," said one of the unblooded warriors whose name Tygrhen did not know.
Kaur'an nodded and passed the hunter a wooden practice staff. The hunter struck at Kaur'an, who simply stepped to the side gracefully, avoiding the attack. The unblooded one struck again with three consecutive blows. Kaur'an parried them with ease. His challenger attacked again but to no avail. Kaur'an struck the unblooded one with such speed the hunter was knocked to the ground. He helped the young warrior back up and fought another unblooded one. He claimed victory after victory against all the hunters present without even breaking into heavy breathing.
"Your enemy will not show you the same mercy that I show you now. They will not stop and wait until you get back up," said Kaur'an in the same strict and gruff voice that he always carried when training warriors. "Now try again, but this time, you will attack me in groups of three."
He signalled three of the hunters to come forward and attack. They did so, lasting slightly longer than they had before, but being knocked to the ground all the same. Two more stepped forward, Kraezak joining them. The two moved in for the attack, their blows being parried by the great warrior before them. As they were being knocked over, Kraezak stepped in for an attack. His training staff caught Kaur'an on the arm before the old warrior knocked the unblooded one off his feet. He gave Kraezak a nod as the young one got back onto his feet.
At last, it came down to Tygrhen, Vey'lek and Tor'wick. The three stepped forward, looking at each other before adopting a defensive position and slowly moving closer to their opponent. They stepped closer still, their defensive posture still holding. Kaur'an attacked first, delivering a blow that Vey'lek could only just deflect. Tor'wick and Tygrhen attacked in a somewhat random fashion, Vey'lek soon joining in. They were still unable to deliver a successful blow, but were instead constantly bombarded with attacks from their opponent. They stepped back panting heavily. They looked at one another and gave each other a nod before all moving in at the same time for a synchronised attack. They all swung their practice staves with all their strength. Kaur'an was able to parry Vey'lek's blow and was just in time to block Tygrhen's attack, whose staff lightly connected with the old warrior's leg. Tor'wick's blow hit Kaur'an directly on the back, sending his stumbling forward a few steps.
The three unblooded ones stood motionless for a moment, their staves still held high, their eyes open wide. Kaur'an chuckled. "Good, this is how you must fight; as a team. Fight as one and you will live, fight as many and you will die. That is enough for today, you may all go and do as you please."
Kraezak shot Tygrhen a bitter glance as he passed the human. The unblooded ones returned their practice staves to the side of the room before leaving the training area. They all rubbed areas of their bodies which pained them after the relentless blows delivered by their training master. Tygrhen rubbed his arm, looking down to see a patch on his forearm which was swollen and already showing bruising.
The rest of the day went by quickly with Tygrhen and his two friends exploring more of Il'thora. Tygrhen wore a bio helmet to cover his face, for he had no intention of provoking an attack from the other members of the space station who may have otherwise felt alarmed by a human's presence. He felt almost strange walking through the station with the bio mask on. The Yautja who passed him treated him as though he were one of their, albeit his skin and his hair was different, but most took little notice. A large Yautja warrior walked towards Tygrhen who gave the large hunter a nod. The great warrior returned the nod as he passed. Tygrhen felt accepted, and beneath the mask, he could not help but smile as he walked.
He and his companions exhausted the remaining hours of the day in their continued exploration. They had to retire to their quarters to catch up on sleep, but in their journeying they managed to locate their fellow crewmates' favoured bar. They planned on visiting the bar the following night, as it would be their last night spent on the space station before departing.
The next day went swiftly yet again. The unblooded ones met with Kaur'an for their final training session, after which Tygrhen, Vey'lek and Tor'wick assisted with the movement of supplies from the ship to the station and vice versa. Once again, Tygrhen wore his bio mask so as to blend in.
At the culmination of the day, work slowed among the great space station as many of those on board settled down for a quiet night or prepared for their end-of-the-day entertainment. Tygrhen and his companions followed some of the members of their clan to the bar they had discovered the previous night. As they neared the tavern, the sounds of some form of music and lively chatter amalgamated with cheerful laughter echoed through the hallways.
As they stood before the door, Tygrhen looked at his two friends with a smile that lay unseen behind his bio mask before continuing. The room was large, and the lighting was somewhat dark to set a certain mood. Another level lay above them, but almost half of the upper level's floor had been neatly cut away, leaving a large rectangle where floors would otherwise have been. It created a balcony-like effect, a rail lining the edges of the empty space. Several Yautja looked over the edge of the raining at the lower level, while others casually leaned on it whilst conversing with friends or courting females. Tygrhen walked further in, amazed at how many Yautja were in the bar, almost all of whom had a drink in hand. He noted that there were very few other races present here. Benches and tables lined the edge of the room, pressed up against the walls. Beyond them, some smaller tables and stools were set up, but a large portion of the lower room was consumed by space devoid of furniture as this area was consumed by the bar's denizens. Tygrhen looked to his right, seeing the main area from which drinks were purchased jutting out from the wall. Many drinks were lined against the back wall and a door lay behind the counter where yet more drinks were stored.
He and his two comrades approached the counter, weaving through the crowd. They eventually reached the counter behind which a burly Yautja served drinks. He looked at the three. "What can I get you?"
The three looked at each other for a moment before Tygrhen leant forward. "We're new to the station, what would you recommend?" he said in a raised voice, competing with the music and the lively crowd.
The bartender looked at the clan signal imprinted on Tygrhen's chest plate. "You are of Qui'aleen's clan, yes?"
Tygrhen nodded. "Yes."
"I have spoken to some of your clan members. Then you must be among the unblooded ones going to your first hunt. I know just the thing," he stepped away and poured a liquid into three large metal cups. "Here, unblooded ones."
"How much do we owe you?" asked Tor'wick.
The bartender shook his head and held out a hand. "This round is on me, young ones."
They thanked him before finding a bench in the room's corner. Tygrhen sat in the corner-most seat where it was darkest. He took off his bio mask, comforted by the darkness shrouding his face. The three smiled and gave a "cheers", knocking their cups together before drinking heartily. They choked on the strong alcohol after taking a deep gulp. They coughed as it burnt their throats. "That's good!" exclaimed Vey'lek, gulping more down and choking yet again.
Tygrhen and Tor'wick continued drinking as well. As the night carried on, they sat and talked, enjoying each other's company. "But I heard that the greatest warrior was Bil'rik," Tygrhen continued their discussion. "He was a master of every weapon and could slay the serpents by the hundreds!"
"No, no," objected Vey'lek, holding up a hand while taking another sip of his drink. "The greatest warrior was Kit'nol! It's said that he killed the serpents with his bare hands and that once he even bit one to death!"
Tygrhen and Tor'wick chuckled. "That's impossible!" Tor'wick shoot his head, his mandibles open in a wide Yautja smile. "Their blood burns everything; his face would have come straight off if he'd bitten it!"
Vey'lek laughed. "And it did! That was how he died, as they say. But you have to admit, it takes guts to do that!"
"It takes one crazy pauk is what it takes!" Tor'wick cackled as the others laughed too.
After downing what remained of their drinks, it was Tygrhen's turn to obtain another round. He put his bio mask back on hastily, not bothering to connect it properly as he would be but a moment before he was back in the safety of the darkness. He collected the three empty cups and weaved through the crowd towards the counter when he bumped shoulders with one of his clansmen. He said a quick apology, not bothering to look at the face. A hand came crashing down of his shoulder, spinning him to face the Yautja he had knocked into. He was twisted on the spot with such force that the cups in his hand fell to the floor. He looked at the angry face and muttered a curse. It was Kraezak.
"Finally, it's just me and you with no one to stop me from killing you!" said Kraezak.
One of the Yautja standing next to the two started to offer an objection. "He is one of our own, young one. It is best to..."
Before he could finish speaking, Kraezak interrupted. "He is not one of our own! He is a filthy Ooman!"
Kraezak grabbed the bio mask and before Tygrhen could react, he had torn it off, revealing a very human form. The chatter of those surrounding them died away as Yautja looked on with growing anger. Tor'wick and Vey'lek saw what was going on and rushed over to help, but could not get through the thick crowd.
Kraezak threw a punch which connected with Tygrhen's cheek, spurring vigorous cheering from the crowd. Having been caught off guard, he stumbled backwards into the crowd who pushed him violently back towards his opponent. Kraezak threw another punch, hitting Tygrhen in the stomach, which was followed up by two more punches, one hitting Tygrhen in the face and the other hitting him in the chest. Tygrhen's anger grew and finally boiled over the edge as he spat out a mouthful of blood. He let off a bellow before lunging at Kraezak, tackling him to the ground. He pinned his opponent to the floor and punched him repeatedly in the face, spilling drops of fluorescent green blood. Kraezak flipped the human off him and they wrestled on the ground, throwing punches and kneeing each other wherever they got the opportunity. Tygrhen gained the upper hand, holding Kraezak in a choke hold. Another Yautja from the crowd stepped in and punched Tygrhen in the back, followed by another who did the same.
Tor'wick and Vey'lek elbowed their way through the crowd before they joined in the fight, attacking the additional Yautja from the crowd who were assaulting their comrade. Tor'wick punched one of the bar's patrons in the jaw and followed it up with a left hook to the temple. Vey'lek ducked to avoid an incoming attack before launching a punch of his own, hitting into his challenger's stomach before elbowing his enemy in the face twice, knocking the drunk fighter to the ground.
The sight of Yautja fighting their own kind sent the crowd wild, they cheered as the fight soon erupted into the crowd itself. A large brawl ensued, filled with chaotic bellows, breaking glasses and roaring from the onlookers. The lights of the bar flashed in time with the music, creating a chaotic and somewhat disorientating scene, but it seemed to do naught to the onlookers but spur yet more cheering.
Tygrhen blocked an incoming punch with his forearm, sending his own fist into Kraezak's left cheek. His rival moved in with a deadly uppercut. He tried to move away from the attack, but only partially avoided it as Kraezak's knuckles scraped Tygrhen's face. They continued their volley of punches, most missing or being deflected, but some connecting.
Vey'lek and Tor'wick fought back to back against a continuous wave of attackers. Tor'wick kicked an incoming warrior in the shin. The hunter stumbled, allowing Tor'wick to grab the back of his challenger's head and thrust it into his knee. A look to his left notified him that his brother was having trouble downing a fighter. He stepped around two clansmen who were wrestling each other to the ground and instantly grabbed hold of the warrior fighting Vey'lek. With his brother's help, they threw the combatant to the ground and launched a volley of punches and kicks.
One of the bar's patrons cast forth a mighty punch, aiming directly at Tygrhen's face. He ducked down, spinning his body partly as he did so to give his attack momentum as he punched the inner side of the patron's knee. He felt something click out of place as the attacker fell. Using the force of his opponent's fall, he directed his knee into his enemy's face and sent the patron into a heavy concussion with an elbow to the temple.
One of the denizens of the bar had attacked Kraezak and was subsequently downed at roughly the same time Tygrhen had finished off the warrior facing him. The two unblooded ones stared at each other for a moment, their hatred boiling while all around them a chaotic scene had taken hold.
Tygrhen charged towards his adversary and launched a powerful kick which knocked Kraezak off his feet. He pounced towards Kraezak and threw forth a mighty punch which connected with his rival's forehead. The two kept punching one another, and soon Tygrhen had once again obtained the upper hand. He wrapped his hands around Kraezak's throat and tightened his grip as his adversary tried feebly to punch him.
From behind him, one of the members of the crowd grabbed him in a choke hold, pulling him back and tightening the strangling grip as another warrior moved in to punch Tygrhen in the stomach and in the face, splitting his lip. Tygrhen elbowed the assailant, but the grip did not loosen enough. The world started to grow dark when the grip suddenly slackened. He felt the warrior behind him fall and turned just in time to see a great fist pierce through the air into the face of the crowd-member who was punching his stomach. The crowd-member was knocked clean off his feet, hitting the ground hard with a concussion at the very least.
The large figure who wore a cape with elaborate armour held a gun into the air, firing three times. The loud sound startled everyone present, stopping the fight instantly as the music switched off and the lights came on. Tygrhen coughed and held a hand to his throat, feeling warm blood trickling out of his nose and split lip.
"What has become of you all? We are not animals!" bellowed the figure. "All of you clean up this mess at once! I would expect better of my own people! Those of you who are of my clan, return to the ship at once!"
He turned to face Tygrhen and it was then the human realised it was Qui'aleen standing before him. "Father, I..."
He held up a hand and shook his head slowly. "You two," he said, pointing at Tor'wick and Vey'lek. "Get back to the ship."
"Yes, sir," they muttered submissively, walking past as they gave Tygrhen a look which said 'good luck'.
"Both of you," he said coldly, beckoning Kraezak over who stood next to Tygrhen without question, for his fear towards his father was greater than his anger towards Tygrhen. "I am disappointed in you both. This brutish behaviour is bad enough from them," he nodded towards the dispersing crowd who now set about picking up broken objects and cleaning up. "But from the two of you," he shook his head. "From my own children."
"I..." Kraezak started.
"I will hear no excuses! Do not think me an old fool whose senses are all but dead! This will never happen again!" he said, his eyes now fixed on Kraezak. "Never again," he repeated in a softer, yet somehow firmer voice. "Now go, both of you. Go straight to the ship's infirmary and fix yourselves up. Wounds or not, your hunt begins tomorrow."
They said nothing; they simply nodded and walked away. Tygrhen went first while Kraezak walked slower to leave a significant space between them.
The wounds that they received were meagre, no bones were broken and there was no significant internal damage. A few cuts here and there and a few loose teeth were of no concern. Tygrhen had pushed the loose teeth back into place while there was still adrenaline blocking all the pain. He secured them by injecting a gel-like substance into his gums which then bound the teeth back into their rightful place, making them even stronger than before. The cuts he was able to seal easily enough and the consumption of a foul smelling liquid saw any swelling disappear. Such menial injuries were easily taken care of. The Yautja did pride themselves in hunting challenging prey after all. Dealing with wounds and continuing their tasks was a basic necessity, and thus the technology at their disposal for such bodily repairs was abundantly available.
As he sat in the infirmary chair, a feeling of gloom had taken hold of him. It was only while he sat in the chair staring into nothingness he realised how intoxicated he was. He snorted and shook his head before stumbling back to his quarters.
As he neared his room he heard Vey'lek's voice in the distance. "Pauk I'm drunk!" said the voice, followed by a loud crashing sound as the unblooded one fell.
Tygrhen could not help but chuckle a little as he walked into his quarters and shut the door. There he sat on the edge of his bed, his head hung in shame. He had controlled his anger all these years but this time, he could not help but lose control. For once he felt accepted among his people. To have it ripped away from him simply forced him to his boiling point.
He took a broad, polished blade from the table by the side of his bed and looked at his reflection, unsure what to think. He took hold of a strand of his light brown hair which had an almost golden shine to it in the light. It had grown to just below shoulder length. He looked into the reflection of his eyes. They seemed strange being blue, as he was so used to seeing the eyes of other Yautja. He rubbed the tips of his fingers over the raised flesh of his scar stretching from just above the brow of his right eye and continuing a short way onto his cheek. His human flesh also seemed strange, as did his face itself. 'A mouth should not look like this,' he thought to himself as he felt lips devoid of mandibles. His hand brushed over his high cheekbones, and he noted that with age his jaw was starting to set into one of a man rather than a child.
He sat there for what seemed like an eternity with naught but silence and shame to keep him company. The sound of his door opening startled him, especially as he thought that it was locked. His head darted up to look at the open space. Qui'aleen stepped through. "I thought it was locked. How did you...?" Tygrhen pointed at the door.
The elder snorted. "This is my ship after all."
He closed the door behind him and stepped into the room. Tygrhen opened his mouth to speak but Qui'aleen slowly held up a hand while nodding. Tygrhen saw that all trace of anger was gone from the elder's eyes. "Know that I am sorry for shouting at you and your brother. I have already spoken to him. I just..." he tried to think of the proper words.
"I have brought shame upon you," Tygrhen said with a heavy heart.
"No," Qui'aleen said softly, shaking his head. He sat down next to Tygrhen.
"I should not have fought back. I should have walked away."
"Sometimes it is necessary to stand and fight. You must use every piece of your heart and your head to determine whether you should fight or run. You must understand, your brother does not see why I have raised you as my son. He does not see why one born of another race should have been given another chance at life. When I found you, I saw in you a strength that was beyond a mere baby. You have the flesh of a human, but you've the spirit of a Yautja. Perhaps it was mere chance that led to you being raised by me, but I choose to see it as fate. I feel that you've much before you, young one. One day much will rest on your shoulders, and your decisions will change lives. Perhaps hundreds of lives or even thousands."
"What happens if I make the wrong decisions?" Tygrhen looked at Qui'aleen with concern.
"In life you will not get every decision right, but know that no matter what, you will always be my son, and you will always have one proud father."
Tygrhen smiled and hugged his father. He pretended he was scratching his eye as he wiped away a forming tear. Qui'aleen walked to the door and opened it before turning back to Tygrhen. "Get some rest, my son. Tomorrow you will embark upon your hunt. You will prove to all those who do not believe in you why I saw you worthy of being raised as one of us," he turned towards the door but craned his neck to look back at Tygrhen one last time. "But remember that I will always believe in you."
He stepped through the door and closed it behind him.