xXx

Seven yautja sat with grave expressions on their faces. Tjat'le was silent, and the others spoke in low voices, even though they were in their chambers. It was essential that no one be aware of their conversation.

Ren'da was perhaps the most level-headed of the group; he had served as an Arbiter for at least a hundred years before becoming a Council member. "Noskor, are you sure? There hasn't been a Psionic for at least a century."

Noskor looked across the triangular table at Ren'da, his blind eye steady in its appraisal of him. "I took Escthta on as my pupil while I traveled with that Clan. I know him better than anyone else. And I say that the Bathyrian did something to him."

Bruyaun spluttered, his usual response to information that directly contradicted his narrow worldview. "Well, then we can't Hunt the Bathyrian, can we? Can't have Psionics running around all over the place. Chaos would break out! It would be madness!" The Councilman had a slight froth about his mandibles, and his eyes were shifty. He'd grown fond of his plush lifestyle as a Council member and it seemed to him that anything out of the ordinary would threaten his job security. And a Psionic was very out of the ordinary.

"We don't even know if he's a Psionic. Why are we making all this fuss?" Bruyaun cast about desperately for a reasonable alternative.

"Isn't it better to be prepared, Bruyaun? Or would you rather he steal your Council seat from underneath you?" Ghanede was a quiet yautja, and he reminded Noskor of Escthta, although the former had a more cautious nature, while Escthta trusted his instincts. Ghanede was a hold-over from ancient times, a strategist who specialized in fanning flames. He was referring to an ancient law of challenge which allowed the victor to take possession of all ranks and privileges of the defeated. He took a perverse pleasure in giving Bruyaun fits. "I say we bring him in, question him, test him."

"I agree." The other 'silent' member of the Council, the scientist Thtarok, spoke up. "The last Psionic was most uncooperative. This one presents an opportunity for further study, as we have found him while he is young." Calling the last Psionic 'most uncooperative' was an understatement; few could forget how uncooperative he was.

The most trophied warrior on the Council, the Hunter Kvar'ye broke his silence. "You're really saying we can't afford to have him loose without supervision."

Thtarok steepled his hands. "Psionics are notorious for being... difficult."

Ghanede snorted. "You mean mad. They're crazy. Never been one who wasn't." He turned to Tjat'le, who had been watching the discussion with hooded eyes. "We don't even know what his abilities are, Liege. He could tear us apart if he wanted to."

"Or he may only be capable of simple telepathy," interjected Noskor. Thirteen eyes turned to Thtarok.

"Well, the abilities of Psionics have not been historically consistent. Some have been only empaths, able to sense feelings. Some have been monsters, capable of telekinesis as well as telepathy."

Tjat'le's voice was low. "What seems to be the determining factor?"

Thtarok bowed his head slightly as he considered his mental rote on Psionics. He hesitated before answering. "Like many things, we think it has something to do with lineage as well as upbringing." Tjat'le turned to Noskor. "Are you aware of his sire's identity?"

Noskor shook his head slowly. "Paternal records are spotty at best, Liege."

Tjat'le was deceptively quiet, and then his face twisted in rage and he slammed his fist down on the table.

"Dammit, I want to know what this kid is and I want to know now!" There was silence around the room; no one knew how to answer his demand. "Where the fuck is Hir'cyn? He was supposed to be here by now!" Tjat'le's temper grew even more roused, and all eyes fell on Kvar'ye. He traditionally spoke up to end Tjat'le's tirades, but Kvar'ye seemed distracted. "Thtarok," he began slowly, "Are Psionics allowed to breed?"

Thtarok exhaled loudly. "Traditionally, no. We know it runs in families, so by keeping them from breeding, we avoid the unpleasant consequences." All of them knew what unpleasant consequences there could be. And all of them cringed inwardly at the thought. It was enough to lift the veil of anger from Tjat'le and he sighed. "If his father or mother was a Psionic, it's possible they bred before the Council became aware of them. Everyone knows Psionics are disturbed; that's why they report them. That's why they're controlled. Things would collapse without that control." He rose from his chair abruptly, beginning to pace. It soothed his mind and allowed him to bring all his thought to bear on the problem. "So it comes down to this: execution or containment?"

Noskor's blind eye moved toward Tjat'le, weighing him down with his stare. "Tjat'le, there hasn't been an execution in a century. We're not going to start it up again. If word gets out about an execution, there'll be nothing to stop wholesale slaughter!"

Tjat'le grunted in half-agreement. "So, containment, then?"

Thtarok chattered quietly. "Containment hasn't been an option. Telekinetics can throw bolts, move whatever they wish. It would be child's play for him to escape."

Ghanede lifted his head from where it rested on his chest and then leaned forward, propping his elbows up on the table. "Escape. That's it."

Tjat'le turned, his rank rings clinking softly."What's it?"

Ghanede widened his tusks in a small smirk. "You just said that he would escape. Isn't that the whole problem? If we treat him like a prisoner, he'll act like one, won't he?"

A few grudging nods from around the table prompted Ghanede to continue. "So, let's not treat him like one. If he thinks he hasn't been detected, he may go on pretending to be undetected."

Bruyaun choked. "Don't you think that kind of attitude is a little... dangerous?"

Tjat'le turned to Noskor. "You know Escthta best, Noskor. Would this kind of strategy be effective?"

Noskor nodded slowly. "Escthta has an intense hunger for knowledge. If we were to send him on some sort of fact-finding expedition, it would probably keep him in line."

Tjat'le frowned. "With the bonus that he might be killed while on it." He paused and then sighed. "As long as he doesn't find out too much. Then we would have to kill him, Psionic or not."

Noskor nodded again. "If it comes to that, I will take care of him personally, Liege."

Tjat'le grunted. "See that you do." He turned to Thtarok. "You should work with Noskor to give this some measure of authenticity."

Thtarok looked offended. "What the hell am I supposed to do with him?"

Tjat'le shrugged and waved his hand in a dismissive motion. "Send him to some backwater planet. You know the hives and the human settlements. If you can find a world with both, so much the better."

Thtarok's ability to fund research was limited. As it was, he had to seize on this Psionic to get some actual work done. He had proposed one or two research projects with humans involved, but Kvar'ye had interceded against them, arguing that humans were for Hunting, not studying. "I think I can come up with something, Liege. As long as it has your full support."

"Do what you must."

xXx

The Council gathered for the last time. One month had passed since the fight with the Bathyrian. One month had passed since the Psionic had been discovered. Measures had been taken, arrangements had been made. It was time to announce Leaderships and Hunts for the next two years. All of the Clans were in attendance, eager to find out their hunts and who would be chosen as new Leaders. New Leaders had the luxury of being able to accept or turn down Hunts until they got one they wanted. All of them were hoping for a good Hunt where the enemies would be fierce and the skulls beautiful.

Tjat'le looked down at the pool of thirty-odd Leadership candidates, knowing that one of them was Escthta's compatriot. He did not like awarding valuable Leaderships to inexperienced Blooded, and one as young as this would be inexperienced. But higher prices had been paid in blood for ignoring the threat a Psionic posed, so a ship might be considered an acceptable ransom to save the Council a headache later. He allowed himself a small smirk as he looked down at the array of tusked faces. Of these, three new Clans would be formed. It was the largest number of new Clans in one Council in the past century. He could tell that each of them was sizing up everyone else, picking out who they would want in their Clan. It was puerile behavior, but some measure of comfort was required in a Clan, or it would fall apart. For the last time, at least until the next Council, Tjat'le lifted his arms, palms out, and used his voice to command silence.

"Today, we decide who among these most honored has earned the right to become a Leader and Hunt as he may." He regretted his words immediately, as one of the Leaderships was contrived to keep Escthta as far away from the homeworld as possible. "Their feats have not gone unrecognized." He gestured vaguely.

"Isaraun, Sae'ki'da and Cthinde. You have been recognized. Step forward!" The arena was deafened by the roars of yautja, their congratulations for the chosen Hunters. The ones not selected formed a group at the rear of the platform, milling about and each silently sizing up one of the new Leaders as the one he would choose to go with. "Isaraun, for your outstanding trophy wall and clear thinking in the Tiir Incident-" At this, a tall, thin Yautja stepped forward and roared in acceptance of his Leadership. It was as much the final test of his selection as anything else; this roar established him as a force to be reckoned with. It was larger than he seemed capable of producing, and many of the Hunters who were not selected had already begun to move toward their choice. "-Sae'ki'da, for your devoted research on Hunting worlds-" Sae'ki'da was a scientist, although he did not look it. He was short, by yautja standards, but barrel-chested. His roar of acceptance was deep and throaty, and it earned him a few followers, who drifted to his side. "-And Cthinde, for your outstanding performance in a Queen's capture, taking a Praetorian skull and losing only 5 to her claws." Cthinde threw back his head and roared as loud as he could, and although it lacked the deepness of Sae'ki'da, his volume and projection were excellent; those who had not made their choices from the other two had no qualms about choosing him. In all, Cthinde ended up with nine Hunters under his command. Many were older than he, but Cthinde was not about to let that intimidate him. He had earned his Leadership, and he was going to make the best of it.

Many had already started moving toward the exits, eager to receive their Hunting assignments, which were already aboard the ships. Cthinde looked around for Escthta, who was nowhere to be found. "Cthinde," interrupted Tjat'le, "Your friend is already onboard your ship with your assignment." Cthinde turned to his men. "She will be called the Fang! To the Zanna!"

xXx

The newly-formed Clan boarded the Zanna to find Escthta with her systems already primed and running. Cthinde stepped forward and clasped his friend's arm about the wrist. "Where's our Hunting assignment?" Escthta chattered. "The Council wants us to canvass a new system." A chorus of disappointed curses went up from the Hunters behind Cthinde, who didn't look too pleased himself. "Why were we given such a low-priority assignment?" Escthta's tusks twitched slightly. "There are three planets capable of supporting life. One, Craxan Prime, already has a human base and there are unconfirmed reports of a hive." Cthinde's disappointed expression evaporated. Pyode and kainde amedha at the same time; it would be a glorious Hunt. The other Hunters were pleased as well; normally Hunts were segregated from each other and every effort was made to keep the Soft and Hard Meats from interacting. One usually involved the decimation of the other, which was no good for Hunting. Bagthak, a Blooded with a background in navigation, stepped forward. "Where is this world?"

Escthta turned to him. "Out past Tiir."

Bagthak chattered with interest. "It should be crawling with hard meat, then." He paused and then frowned. "What is an ooman settlement doing out there? They should know better than that by now." He used the derogatory term in exasperation. Human settlements had already suffered large losses against what they called the "bugs"; it didn't make sense that they would continue to settle in areas known to have hives, especially when the kainde amedha were more able to seed worlds than most species.

Escthta shrugged. "That's part of our mission. Maybe they've found a mineral resource that we haven't yet. Either way, we're to collect information about the humans and their activities, as well as any local hives. Of course, recreational Hunting is allowed along the way." Bagthak gave a short nod, and his acceptance of the mission prompted others to find their quarters on the Zanna. Escthta breathed out slowly. He hadn't told them the other part of their mission.

xXx

"Why do we need to study humans at all?"

Thtarok turned to look at Escthta, who was only slightly taller than himself. The tall yautja had long dreadlocks that ended at the small of his spine and he had many rank rings in spite of his youth. His mottled skin was pale and sallow, but the black pigments remained dark and rich, looking like dark splotches of ink on parchment. Escthta scorned the newer sash-style trophy harnesses; his garb was distinctly antique, consisting of an old-style chest harness with rings lining the sides for attaching small trophies. Even his loincloth was of an older style; it lacked the armored codpiece that was in vogue now, and had instead a cloth one with armored tassets. Combined with his large lower mandibles and austere face, Escthta looked every bit the ancient warrior-stoic, who Hunted not only to bring himself honor, but to enslave lesser races and spread Paya's word.

"Humans are very devious creatures, Escthta. Their intelligence has come into question, namely by Kvar'ye." Thtarok lifted a small skull from his trophy wall, cradling it gently in his hands. "Kvar'ye doesn't believe they should be given any sort of deference. He thinks they're too stupid, almost too stupid for Hunting."

Escthta snorted. "We've seen they can solve problems and make critical thought decisions. The Tiir Incident proved that."

Thtarok smiled gently, still facing away from Escthta. The younger Hunter's mention of the unfortunate incident on Tiir 3 was bang on; it proved that humans had complex problem-solving abilities. Now if only Kvar'ye would listen to him. "Kvar'ye is a very old brand of warrior, Escthta. He wants only the best adversary, regardless of what species that might be."

Escthta's silence was awkward. "You mean he'd prefer to hunt yautja."

Thtarok almost dropped his trophy. Escthta was amazingly adept; if he was not a Psionic, he was damned intuitive. He turned, a lift in his brow. "A Hunter is, after all, the most dangerous prey."

Escthta stood. "Kvar'ye would want to Hunt yautja regardless. That's why he brings in the Bad Bloods." He regarded Thtarok silently, and Thtarok feared for a moment that his brains were being picked for information. "But you think that proving the intelligence of humans would cripple his support," Escthta continued.

Thtarok nodded almost imperceptibly. "We also know little of their reproductive cycle. We don't know the length of gestation, or how long the young are dependent on their mother. They do seem to live in family units, but at what point that stops becoming family and starts becoming convenience is unclear."

Escthta chattered. "You want a test subject."

Thtarok chuckled, glad that he didn't have to come out and say it. "You're very perceptive."

Escthta didn't reply. Thtarok pushed his shoulder in the gesture of greeting and acknowledgement. "Bring me back a female. If you can get a male, that's also good, but the child-bearer is more important."

xXx

Escthta paused outside Cthinde's quarters. He had debated not telling Cthinde about the second part of their mission at all, but he would need his friend's help if he was to smuggle a human on board. A human female, no less. He was unsure what they looked like, or how they were different from males, since both had mammaries and both seemed capable of combat. It remained to be seen whether the human females were as combative as yautja females. He chuckled softly, thinking of Da-kvar'di and winced at the pain in his side from her last gift to him. No human could hold a candle to all that power, all that fury. Yautja females were matchless Hunters to be respected and avoided at all costs. If human females were anything like their yautja counterparts, he was going to have his hands full.

Cthinde was sitting in his bunk, his legs stretched out. He looked up as Escthta entered the room, and then grinned widely. "Isn't the ship great? It's enormous! Have you seen the hold? There's already a Queen here!" Escthta held up his hand gently to silence the outpouring of effervescence. "There are other things, Liege." Cthinde paused at the title, realizing that his friend calling him by such a honorable name meant that things were not as they should be. "There are other elements to our mission that I did not want to discuss in front of the Clan." That too, felt strange, keeping things from the Clan. In such a tightly knit group, honesty was paramount; their chemistry practically barred them from lying as their musk would give away their true emotions.

"Thtarok did have one condition when he awarded us this Hunting assignment." Escthta paused. "This is a scientific expedition, with Hunting 'on the side'. All he asked is that we bring back a sample."

Cthinde stared blankly at his friend. Escthta coughed politely. "A living sample." His friend showed no response. "He wants us to bring back a human female."

Cthinde stared at his friend and then his tusks widened, almost imperceptibly, in aggression. "Why do we have to do that? This is a Hunting ship, not an ark."

Escthta snorted at Cthinde's ignorant reference to the myth. "The Ark did have a purpose, Cthinde, and you seem to have forgotten it. Paya set that Ark afloat on the Sea of Eternity. It carried within its fold all the great races of the universe, but She bestowed upon us, her favorites, the ability to Hunt them. From Her we receive all our knowledge and all our strength. It is not a crime to know Her works, Cthinde, and the fact that you view discovery of Her glory as a minor chore while you bloody your hands with destruction is a sign of how this Leadership has changed you already!"

Escthta's voice had risen to an unbearable level; the yautja's eyes were wild with fervor and it gave Cthinde pause. He had never seen his friend so worked up about something. Escthta's anger whistled out of him like a punctured skin. "We are finding new worlds and going on new Hunts, Cthinde. You and I have both experienced the thrill of hunting in jungles and swamps. We both know that only when we understand Paya's gifts in their natural setting can we fully appreciate them on our trophy wall. Please understand that." Cthinde nodded, unable to speak. Escthta walked calmly out of Cthinde's quarters, and Cthinde was quiet for long moments afterward.

xXx

Escthta's dreams that night were full of darkness and voices. It was not a nightmare, for he was not afraid, though some of the voices said terrible things. They spoke of murder and lust and dishonor, and he recoiled from them and their cold discussion of war and killing. There was no warmth in their discussion of death, no affection for the Thrill of the Hunt, no respect for their adversary. It was blind hatred and it disgusted him. There were other conversations as well, and he eavesdropped on them carelessly.

"But they will never know-"

"I hate them."

"Why should they? They're idiots."

"They kill my children."

"They only think of breeding."

"There is someone here."

"My sisters disappear."

"Who are you?" This last voice was directed at him, he realized with a start, and he did not know how to answer. The voice was deep and never-ending, and he was stunned and a little scared by its range. "WHO. ARE. YOU?" It brooked no opposition, and Escthta could not help but think he was a little out of place in this dreamworld discussion.

"You are new here." A form took shape in his mind, a familiar, revolting mass of tentacles with eyes like obsidian. The Bathyrian hovered, enormous in his mind's eye, shadowing him as it never had in real life. "You are that creature." It flicked one of its prime tentacles to Escthta's temple, stroking it gently with a gelatinous bud. Escthta jerked; he had not realized he had form in this dream. "So you do have the ability. I could not be sure of Oggohlb's message, but you would appear to be the one he spoke of. The tentacle turned the stunned yautja's head aside. "I see he was not tender with you in administering his venom." He withdrew his prime tentacle and at last Escthta could find the wherewithal to wonder why.

"Oggohlb." He struggled with the strangeness of the name. "Is he the creature in the tank?"

The Bathyrian seemed to nod. "I am Yugmnelsh. I control the thoughtpaths of this universe. Oggohlb's time is limited, but he mentioned that he found a lower lifeform capable of Speech."

Escthta turned indignant. "Lower lifeform!"

Yugmnelsh did not rise to the bait. "Your species is not capable of telepathic Speech, and it has not evolved ways of communicating with those capable of it. Explain how such a species deserves the consideration of higher lifeforms."

Escthta was quiet, and he could not think of an answer. It was true that the yautja were not ambassadors of goodwill toward the universe, but he had a certain respect for other lifeforms.

"Killing them does not bring them honor." Yugmnelsh's bass tones interrupted him, and he finally realized that his thoughts were clear as crystal to the massive creature.

"Yes." The Bathyrian's terse answer confirmed his suspicions. It meant that he must also be capable of telepathic thought, or he would not be able to reply.

"That is also true, although Oggohlb's venom is not yet completely worked through your brain. If you have other abilities, they will come in due time."

"Other abilities?"

The Bathyrian's unfathomable black eyes moved a membrane across themselves, and he moved closer to Escthta, encircling him with tentacles. Escthta could see the mouth now, under the edge of the half-domed skull, lined with threatening teeth. "You were administered the venom because Oggohlb sensed in you the potential for Psionic ability. This method is more forceful than allowing the ability to awaken naturally, but if one has a chance, one should not pass it up."

"So this is why I've been able to hear all these things, all these conversations."

"Yes."

"What do I do with them? Why do I have them?"

The silence was deafening and Escthta thought he could see the coils of flesh becoming more transparent. At length, Yugmnelsh's voice rumbled out again as the tentacles faded from mind.

"You have been given a gift. How you use it is up to you."

xXx

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Much love to Drakonlily, for helping me find the name of Cthinde's ship. Also much love to Solain Rhyo, who has been eternally patient with me. And finally, to Chocobo Goddess for leaving such an awesome review.