Sleeping by Lance's side, Sila was clearly unwell. Stress and previous and some malnutrition (forced to keep a figure to appease her previous owner's tastes), the slave was down with a cold.

Lance arranged another room for them, the one she had placed Sila last time the Yautjas left, willingly babysitting.

But truth to be told, she deserved some comfort: life had not been kind to the slave, who still fought the cravings of addiction (without the physical symptoms, thank God), and was now facing a chasm of uncertainty as a Predator's prisoner.

Would the slave jump? Would anyone push her into the abyss?

XXX

Lance, who still had a heart and could be kind, found out that she needed the company as much as Sila, as a way to keep herself from acting on impulse.

The Girl was used to solitude, enduring weeks (months even) of radio silence. Only to be caught by offguard by how anxious she felt only 60 hours after the Yautjas left for their hunt.

Being cupped up in the aliens' vessel was also boring Lance out of her mind. Yes, Ah'kaedh was ok with the Girl snooping the black market business, but you know what? Remote work was eating at her field-agent's nerves. Conducting a whole-ass investigation from afar was tons of repetitive and tedious work. Sure, working infiltrated still entailed a lot of monotonous tasks, but she was still there, on site, living it, you know?

Remote work gave Lance less flexibility, less short-cuts, less chances to easily foolproof information, which in turn meant more research. More hours analyze lots of data in minute detail.

Breacher had been an invaluable asset for this very reason: he was the best among them working remotely. Originally a Investigation specialist, he was then trained to be an intel magician of sorts. Once hooked into a network, there was non stopping the guy. He was also able to decide which sources of information - or even which type of data - would be helpful, and was involved with all-things investigation.

(Which is why Breacher went personally to talk with Lance when she called the police about Cecily. Asher was there only as support).

The once-Derrick worked quite close to the field-agents, who would at times work as his extensions in the real world.

Lance knew how to conduct investigations for this very reason, but she was no Breacher. A bright mind is nothing if you don't have the skills to compliment it.

The Girl burned half a brain trying to find a way to fuck with Thedus black market, but she could only draw blank after blank, unable to… well, to even start.

Obviously, lacking the proper skills to work on her current situation wasn't her only blocker, no. Far from that. Personal matters were also taking considerable RAM memory from her brain.

Afterall, one does no go for years without giving two fucks about having a partner, and just accepts like it's no big deal not being able to unfocus from the goddamn alien, who left a fucking skull by your bed (and was orchestrating manipulating you into abduction. Sorta).

Man… maybe his semen has some psychotropic properties? Yeah, I'm being literally hit in the mucosa…

You see, there is a lot going on her brain. First, Lance was never given to romance. Her uncle had seen one too many girls to get screwed over what he called romantic naivety (aka low self esteem plus lack of boundaries), and had done his best to beat any puppy love tendencies out of her system (with amazing success).

Lance had also been a nerd; a nerd with ambitions to become a veterinarian one day, biology was one of her passions. 'And how could this complicate things?', one would think. Well, sexual dimorphism was currently filling Lance's mind with a handful of twisted hypotheses.

Do you know how well equipped some males are to a) convince females to procreate and b) not being killed in the process? She was well acquainted with how strong and resistant those aliens could be. Ah'kaedh had been a wonder, biologically speaking. No human would ever compare to him, and yeah… females were larger? They were probably scarier too if the males were so good at entrancing people (Lance was puzzled since her first purr-haze, all those decades ago. Why would a killing machine need to freaking purr? Well, that's why).

Chemically baiting partners into sex was something common across the universe - hell even humans pheromones are not to be toyed with. now dosing your partner with semen to ensure coupling until impregnation actually sounded quite smart. Evolutionary speaking.

If scales were any indication of anything, well, Predators could, indeed, be venomous. Just not traditionally venomous, so to speak.

(This whole 'interspecies situationship' was also not helping her brain to properly function).

The Girl covered her pelvis with both hands.

"Christ, what the fuck I'm thinking ", she said outloud, shaking her head, as if that could banish her toughts.

Idle minds being the Devil's playground never made so much sense, what the hell…

The Girl had more pressing things to focus on. Time to quit daydreaming…

XXX

The hunting party was composed of 18 Yautjas, and somehow none of them was able to pick up any signs of the ambush that had trapped 13 of them. Plus 1 Hunter most certainly dead.

Ah'kaedh was able to escape at the cost of yet another prosthetic. His BioWare was intact, which was a relief.

The Enforcer chose to sacrifice the bionic arm in order to save the Hunter right behind in front of him. Ho'kan was ok too, he and the other Yautja at the tail end of the group.

Hunting for the Bad Bloods was getting difficult by the day. Ah'kaedh scolded himself mentally for his short-sighted decision making.

Everything had a cost, and his decisions' prince was now manifested in this fucking hunt. Killing the previous individuals was easy. They were mostly alone or less skilled.

After being forced to land in a savage planet, it didn't take long for the Bad Bloods to understand their vessel could not be repaired easily (if at all), which led them to split: the strongest wanted more resources for themselves, without the onus of putting up with the weaker. And obviously, the slaves, no one wanted to share the slaves.

Worse yet: the meanest individuals were at the oomans' colony; Rot'gar and the others stayed behind to seek and capture more suitable ooman females. But now was not time to think about that scum, Ah'kaedh had a nightmarish problem in his hands.

The mountain range in the area was beaten by heavy storms for the last weeks. It was the planet weather really, and this was the monsoon season. mudslides were terribly common and the wildlife used (and adapted) to it.

They had freakishly large fauna here, trees would range between 180 to 250 feet in the region, and they were on the mountainous side. The plains had even taller forests.

After this ambush, they would need to proceed with extra care. The remaining Bad Bloods had weeks to establish themselves and get acquainted to the environment, and surely prepared the terrain to work against them. Like now.

Someone activated one of the traps, which led to a chain reaction resulting in a mudslide (and Paya be praised, not a full blown landslide, the trees had deep roots and were able to hold well. But the superficial soil turned to mud?). The explosion (probably) claimed one life on their side, but the goal had been to get any hunting party in their current situation; completely screwed.

Scattered and wounded because they were in the middle of a fucking disaster, exposed to the predators roaming the mountain range. And of course, they were now aware of their current position.

The Enforcer had been right ahead of the group. Once he heard the explosion - feeling the ground tremble, he knew what was going to happen next. They could not escape it, but the bulk mass was behind them. He was able to use the metallic arm to slow down, until he was finally able to thrust the already damaged bionic piece in the crevice of a huge rock, which could not be moved by the mass (thankfully).

"Lar'jar", he called for the 5th time. His brother was not answering. Like another 6. Aside from the Hunter claimed by the explosion, anyone in the middle of the group had good chances of not making out alive.

XXX

For the last 4 fucking hours there was the Girl, singing to herself, trying to keep (most of) her attention on the task at hand.

Evaluating a bunch of data.

Focus, you see, was critical. She could not afford mistakes, especially given her current situation. Isolated in the freaking Yautja's vessel, she had tons of peace and calm, and nothing to really fucking do, and she would what? Screw up the analysis by being distracted?

No, sir!

Unless something grabbed her attention. And Lance was doing an Herculean effort to fend off any diversions, her lovestruck heart the biggest and worst of them all.

So God help her, once Sila crossed the command deck, running like there was no tomorrow, Lance got instantly irritated.

This better be the mother of all space-roaches, she thought, grumpy, standing from Ah'kaedh's chair.

(The only freaking way to avoid thinking about him was staying seated in that godawful huge chair. What would Dad say, if he saw the pathetic mess she had become?)

And that was when the Girl spotted the reason for such commotion.

"Fuck me…", Lance whispered, understanding at once the slave was not running. Sila was fleeing.

XXX

Ho'kan didn't stand out much from your garden variety Predator when it came to temper. Well mannered, disciplined, but not to be toyed with. He had yet to acquire adult confidence and experience, but boy, oh boy… now Lance could see the creature that had came back alive from the Chiva that claimed almost half of the Yautja's youth.

He looked terrifying. There were a dozen alarms going off in her little Black Ops brain telling her to run, and run now, nownowNOW!

Deep breaths, Lance, deep breaths…

Ho'kan, like Ah'kaedh, had lots of patience towards her (for very different reasons), and was usually his mostly friendly self when she was around - which made Lance power through all impulses sent by her Lizard brain and wait, because surely the Kid was not about to rip off her head. He should be just, you know, mad. At something (hopefully he would say something before getting too close..).

"There you are. Go gather your devices and the garments Ah'kaedh gave you. Now", and thank God for the flat tone of the damn mask.

Lance obeyed at once. It was not fear, you see. It was the knowledge that Ho'kan was never like this around her and Ah'kaedh would never send for her, unless it was his last resort.

XXX

The med-bay at Kivar's ship was being loaded with the rescued hunters from the mudslide.

There were still 4 missing.

The Medic from Kivar's crew was found with body legs crushed. Lar'jar was in better condition - some internal bleeding and an exposed fracture on his left arm (if not by his wrist gauntlet, he would probably have lost part of his limb, which would be yet another thing making him uncannily similar to his younger brother).

Lance had helped Ah'kaedh, Ho'kan and the other two Yautjas by removing the mudslide victims without causing further damage to their bodies.

Earlier, when Kivar's ship landed, Ah'kaedh first concern was being attacked by the remaining Bad Bloods as an attempt to claim the ship.

Not that he worried about not being able to kill them (the enforcer confidence was not unfounded - the Enforcer was quite good at killing off his own people), but any attack would cost him the injured. Ah'kaedh just knew the Bad Blood scum would kill as many as possible, out of spite.

"You should send the ship off planet", Lance advised, once she found Ho'kan and Ah'kaedh by the boarding lift. The Girl had just left the med-bay after assistance for a critically wounded Yautja, the last of the four individuals found in dire states after the incident.

"We still have four missing", Ho'kan reminded. "Kivar among them".

"Ah'kaedh , you mentioned you can control your ship remotely, right?", Lance asked, leaning oh, so casually against the left wall, measuring breaths and movements. She was tired already, but didn't want to let on how much.

The Enforcer nodded slowly. Ignoring her attempt to hide her condition. A small piece of his mind scolded himself for being instantly worried about her tiredness when they had so many injured.

"I'm sending you with them", he answered her in English, after taking off his mask.

"Sure", Lance agreed. No, she was not happy about it, however, any type of help she could provide would be overshadowed by the fact she was weaker, not prepared to deal with the challenges that the environment imposed, still in recovery - a liability in a nutshell. And she knew it.

(Reigning her feeling of protectiveness, fueled by passion, towards the unforced was no walk in the park though).

Heading inside, he scouted her to his brother's side. Lar'jar was working one handed, and he had yet to actually receive treatment for his arm.

The wrist gauntlet would need to be removed using a saw, and it was holding his arm in place anyway (well, kinda). Once they opened it, the Medic would need to undergo a procedure to reset the bones and care for nerves and tendons. He could do it himself, but…

"How are you holding up?", the Medic asked the Girl.

"I'm fine", it was not a lie. In comparison to him, she was surely fine.

"Let's get you working then", he gestured towards the sedated Yautjas.

XXX

"Are you sure this is going to work?"

Ho'kan was holding a unconscious human over each of his shoulders.

"No, but it's worth the shot", Lance made a face.

"I should be out there, hunting with Ah'kaedh", Ho'kan grumbled. "But I vouched for you", the Kid hissed under the mask. She could hear the snake-like sounds of that forked tongue of his.

"Thank you, love, I appreciate the trust".

"Love?", he parroted, sure his translator was giving him the wrong meaning.

"Oh, Jesus", she had to laugh. "Yeah, love. We might use it as an affectionate way to address people we like or admire. If someone uses it towards a stranger, they are probably baiting them".

"Your species have really strange ways to communicate", he sighed.

With seven of Ah'kaedh ooman prisoners linned in front of them, the Girl was finishing up knocking out the last two.

"Are you two done?", Lar'jar stepped inside. New biomask, left arm still needing treatment and all.

"Almost", she murmured, knowing he would hear it.

XXX

"So you kept the slave?", Lar'jar new biomask had a slightly different tone.

The old one was lost to his near-death experience, and was now laying somewhere under a ton of mud and debris.

"Yes", Lance answered slowly, all focus on the task at hand.

"Why?"

That made her pause. The Girl was in the middle of sawing off the Medic's broken wrist Gauntlet, finally. She literally halted what she was doing.

Lar'jar had insisted they finished with everyone else first. 11 hours after being rescued, and he finally sat down to get the broken thing removed.

(After today, the Girl kinda understood where was the line for 'minor injury' for Yautjas now).

"Can we have this talk later?"

"I would rather have it now", Lar'jar cocked his head to the side. Lance could almost see those yellow bright eyes digging holes into her skull.

She placed the saw on the trolley beside her and went to get water for both.

"I already explained", she tried, knowing the Medic would probably press further.

"Let's hear it again", and the freaking flat tone gave nothing away.

"She will be useful in recognizing key individuals in the Genovese family, the ones responsible for trading slaves with the Bad Bloods. By knowing who those people are and questioning them, we should discover faster what's his most likely location, and have crucial details that will lead to a successful rescue", even Lance's tone was business-like.

"And…"

What the hell , Lance glared in his direction, annoyed. How dare he be able to read her so easily?

"Dude, this freaking mask. Can you take it off?", she complained, and went to get the beacon and ear-cuff-like translator piece.

"Most oomans prefer to look at the mask", he took the biomask off after she activated the devices and fixated the earpiece to her ear.

"I prefer to be able to look people in the eyes when they are asking me if I lied or not".

Lar'jar furrowed his forehead, but there was no anger in his face (Lance had seen Ah'kaedh angered so many times before… she just knew).

"That's not what I said".

"Oh, but you implied", she walked back now, handing him a cup with water.

"No, I did not. But I do wish to know your reason in it's entirety. Not just what's pertinent to the Young-Blood's rescue".

Lance drank almost all her water before answering.

"I also thought she didn't deserve being used as bait".

"And the rest did?"

"I won't go as far as to say their choices put them in their positions, because frankly… no one would choose anything knowing it could lead them to become an Alien's prisoner and then be used as bait, but…" and that was a big but, "Sila never had a choice, to begin with. Also, I kinda like her".

"You do understand that there was another Enforcer present when you said why you would not use the sex slave right?"

"Sure. She would be useful in the search for Nax, and not likely to survive the first 8 hours. With no survival skills the other prisoners would probably drop her once we were out of sight. A waste", Lance summarized.

"And you just said you spared her because she deserves better".

"That was in the cards, yes. But frankly, Lar'jar, I don't like to be cruel. And I have not lied. If she was just another mercenary scum? I would probably send her out just to get rid of the extra passenger. They are a lot of work".

The Medic waited. There was more.

The Girl looked back at her cup, pondering about having more to drink.

"But yeah, I would be able to recognize some of those people, and I'm a decent agent, I could figure it out without Sila".

"You better be upfront about your reasons. We are not oomans. Those enforcers will prefer to bear in mind you also have personal reasons for doing whatever when we are hunting. And by those enforcers, I also mean Ah'kaedh", Lar'jar cautioned.

"Not that he would harvest your trophies for it, though", he Yautja-whispered, which was almost inaudible for Lance. Her translator picked up though.

"Humans also prefer to know the full truth", she chuckled and picked up the saw again. "Anyway, having Sila will most likely save us precious days. May I?" And she showed him the saw.

The Medic nodded. Lar'jar could understand why the pause. Talking about serious subjects while needing full attention in a dangerous instrument was not the wisest.

"Also, what did you mean by harvesting my trophies?", and she leaned over the ruined gauntlet.

The Medic chuckled. Oh, what awesome subject she chose to discuss while working on his arm.

XXX

Once upon a time, a silly girl picked a bad boy for a boyfriend. Partying hard was her life, being different from her whole family was her main goal.

She was not cattle, you see. She was special. She was wild. Daring girl, most brave living member of her whole family.

Meant for something more.

She kept bad company, she got in trouble a lot. She dated a mercenary, carving her way in the underworld. Spending a lot on all sorts of things she would otherwise never be able to afford.

Not without all that dirty money.

No one could blame her. But to every choice, a renounce. Every door opened, another closed. Had Sabrina known this would be the end of her tale, she would have picked differently.

Or would she?

In desperation, lots of people will do the most outrageous things, be the opposite of whatever they ever imagine for themselves.

The mercenary-wannabe would never know if she truly regretted her choices or not. She would not mature, acquire the wisdom necessary to evaluate her life and truly understand herself. She would never be able to admit to her faults, nor have the chance to own her mistakes.

Make something more of her life.

Her tale was about to end here, in an inhospitable planet, deemed too dangerous by the humans to consider establishing a colony (yet).

Victim of the very cruelty directed to all slaves ever owned by the Bad Bloods.

Her scared face wasn't even a problem. In fact, all four Yautjas in the small band liked her better that way. Not as ugly as other oomans (scars were a turn-on anyway).

XXX

"Not bad", Velk'n, the Yautja who escaped with Ah'kaedh, was analyzing the data around the tags.

Lance and Ho'kan had knocked out the prisoners to tag each one of them - by making them ingesting one, and stitching a decoy under their skins.

The ingested ones were the type used on Kiande Amedha, usually shot from a distance into their carapace. Those things were ultra resistant (acid included), and not handed out so easily to hunters.

Velk'n was reticent towards using those on ooman baits, and indeed most of the tags were already useless.

4 out of 7 were completely inert, meaning the oomans were dead. Another one was simply not responding, vanished from existence; the group was positive that it had something to do with another explosion not very far from the point from their own incident.

But two of the tags were active, moving, even if just slightly.

Setg'n'kah, the other Enforcer, growled under his mask. He had a fractured clavicle, and lost a lot of scales on his back, buttocks and legs, lowkey skinned in the process of holding on to the tree that saved him from going down the whole mountain during the mudslide. He had deep gashes from debris too, and while Lance had wanted to stitch the hell out of him, and keep the Predator under observation, he deemed all injuries minor, and went out with the hunting party.

"Sir, with all due respect, you are likely to run a fever", the beacon translated the words, and she seemed demure enough to not be insinuating anything.

Setg'n'kah, like others in his own pack, looked down on oomans. But he was not about to go look for problems with the dark Yautja responsible for her. Moreover, they needed someone able to support Lar'jar. His own Medic would need to undergo serious treatment before being back to action.

"I have not asked for your opinion, female. Finish your work", and that was it. Lance had figured out a way to bandage the hell out of him, and insisted on helping him into his armor, to be sure no bandages would be torn in the process.

(Ah'kaedh had been deadly silent while watching her all over another Yautja. It was not jealousy in a sexual sense, he simply didn't like the idea of her giving the same type of dedicated attention to someone else's wellbeing).

The hunting party was now composed of 6 Hunters, 4 of which were the ones who escaped that freakish ordeal. The 6th individual was one of Kivar's companions (with truly minor injuries on Lance's opinion).

"There are 3 equipment tags are moving in completely different directions, and for some time", Ho'kan frowned at his wrist gauntlet , puzzled.

"That's decoy, Ho'kan" Ah'kaedh murmured, in his usual deep tone. "They probably attached it to some animals".

The Kid chuckled. While helping Lance tag everything carefully, he had been quick to point that those tags would probably be discovered.

"I know. And that's the goal. Lead them to believe they got rid of all tags. So they won't deep scan their bodies".

Not all biomasks had the ability to deep scan. Mostly, those features were used only by Medics.

The thermal vision was good enough to get any implants on skin levels. Which is why Lance stitched normal tags to each one of the oomans - but made an effort to try and hide them.

Ah'kaedh's girl requested something more resistant to send it down their stomachs - she wanted to make sure none of them would be damaged.

Lar'jar pointed out thatsedation just to place the tacker tags on the oomans stomach sounded like an awful waste of resources (those were smaller than many ooman pills, they could simply swallow it). But again, Lance insisted on doing it her way. She didn't want the oomans knowing they had something in their stomachs.

"We should move, finish this up before the sunset", Setg'n'kah body felt like it was on fire. He was keen to go back and have those bandages changed, and get another coat of salve.

"We should wait", Ho'kan countered.

"Should we now, Young-Blood?", Velk'n spoke before the Enforcer could react.

"Yes. The whole point of this action was to track the group and wait for them to settle, so we could ambush them".

"They could also drop the oomans, and we lose our advantage. That is, if they haven't done it already. Then we have a small window of time before the rain wash away the Bad Blood's trail completely".

"They won't. Those 2 tags, they belong to the females", Ho'kan insisted.

A heavy silence followed. And later, everyone agreed to wait.

XXX

Setg'n'kah along with Velk'n we're back to Kivar's ship.

Another party went down the planet, composed by 3 hunters, whose mission was to look for the missing. They had found 2 corpses and 2 surviving Yautjas, putting an end to the search efforts. But the searching group requested backup from the Hunting party on the ground.

Moving the wounded safely back would not be done, unless they discarded the dead. Wild animals would certainly make an attempt at them otherwise. An no Hunter in the search party was at their full capacity.

The good news; Kivar was alive, with broken limbs and a fractured spine. But alive.

After seeing the rescues into the med-bay, the enforcer was now waiting medical assistance before going back, because sure enough, he was running a fucking ferver.

Kivar's ship, the largest of them all, had a decent medical area. An operation theater, 10 private chambers for recovery.

Why such accommodations if his crew was not that large, Lance had asked. Lar'jar's answer: mating season. Both Kivar and Setg'n'kah were running short-staffed.

"Lar'jar?", Setg'n'kah asked once he spotted the ooman approach him, earpiece and beacon in hand. And signaled for her to stay away.

"He is running exams on Kivar, sir. If you prefer to wait, I will inform him".

The creature smelled of distress, yes, but she didn't seem affected by his rejection of her support.

"Do it", he answered curtly, and Lance nodded an acknowledgement, spun on her heels, and went back inside.

Almost an hour later, Lar'jar came to see him.

"Do you have news from the hunting party?", asked the Medic.

"The Bad Bloods are moving again. Unless they set the oomans baits free".

"Is there any pattern to their moves?", Lar'jar asked, curious.

Setg'n'kah glared in the Medic's direction. Before any could say anything else, Lance stepped in that section of the med-bay.

"You asked for me?", she said looking at the dark predator.

"Yes. Come help me".

A 'what the fuck' was painted all over Setg'n'kah face.

"Undo his bandages and wash him from head to toe, apply the salve on every wound and sore spot, thoroughly. Once you are done, come fetch me, and I will see which bandages should work better", Lar'jar instructed.

"I don't need this ooman doing my treatment".

"Setg'n'kah, I will let you know that I've never seen someone being as good as her at washing and treating flesh wounds like yours. And I'm old. And damn good at what I do", Lar'jar signaled for her to go and fetch her stuff. "She has small fingers and no talons. You are running a fever because, despite being bandaged, there is dirt all over your wounds, and you lost almost 35% of your skin. You requested someone else to wash and treat you the first time, so she just dressed your wounds. This time, we are doing things as I want them. I have critical patients to take care off and just one fucking arm to get things done". No, not pissed. Just brutally serious.

Lance looked upwards, praying to never witnessed the day someone would finally take Lar'jar off-balance (he gave Setg'n'kah the scolding of his life, thought).

XXX

The Girl placed the beacon away from the water stream, and before the Yautja could do anything, she gestured for him to follow her.

"I'm sorry sir, this is not going to work. Please follow me".

Setg'n'kah sharp eyes zeroed in her skull.

"Are you toying with me, female?"

"No. You are far too tall, and I won't ask for you to sit or kneel for me, since it will… have negative impact over your injuries. I will wash you at one of the med-bay tables.", she explained calmly (as calmly as she could force herself to behave. She certainly didn't smell calm).

After instructing Setg'n'kah to lay on his belly, Lance followed Lar'jar instructions on how to set the table drainage, and went about to wash him with a measly water duct.

Ah'kaedh's older brother was working across them, resetting the bones of another hunter.

When Velk'n came to check if the Enforcer was ready to descend back to the planet's surface, he found the ooman still leaning over Setg'n'kah's torso, working quietly, all focused attention.

"At this pace, they will need another hour", Lar'jar explained when Lance failed to answer Velk'n. She had turned off her translator once she perceived it was picking up on everyone in a 30 feet radius, and the med-bay had at least 10 people now.

"Can you tell them to hurry up?"

"Can you ask Ah'kaedh if they can wait?", the Medic countered.

The Hunter snarled, irritated, and stepped outside. Lar'jar glanced over his brother's ooman; diligent little thing, so careful and gentle, Setg'n'kah had fallen asleep.

XXX

Lance was dreaming about her Dragon when Ah'kaedh strike fell upon one of the 4 Bad Bloods in that little band.

Almost 60 hours after the incident that quite literally washed away the Yautjas' hunting party, and they had finally settled to rest. It didn't take long, and all their attention had turned towards the females, having now 2 more oomans to play with. And enjoy their time, not simply release pent up lust and stress, as they did before reaching their shelter.

The heavy rain muffled the gagged screaming, thankfully. Ho'kan was well aware of the captured oomans fate, but he could not help himself but being triggered by this whole situation. He didn't like it, but he had no sympathy for anyone helping with slave trading.

The Kid saw when Ah'kaedh placed his prosthetic by the base of the Bad Blood's neck, and released the double blades. The sound of tender flesh being penetrated was sweet music for Young-Blood's vengeful mind. Muscles tearing and bones breaking. The Enforcer wasted no time, he just dislocated the trophies enough to ensure the killing, but was already springing back, to ensure none of those vermin would pile up over a single hunter.

Ho'kan, on his part, was half way into his own killing. The Yautjas would not dogpile their prey, but ambushing was fair game. After their stunt, they should know the Hunters would become vicious, and here was Ho'kan; all happy thoughts after breaking a sleeping criminal's spine.

The pain, searing through the Bad Blood's brain; his arms responsive, but not without excruciating agony. He roared in confusion and torment, awakened by Ho'kan wreaking havoc in his body, not fully aware of what (and how that) was happening.

"Remember me, Tai'chall?", the Kid snarled, while stepping in one of the Bad Blood's arm, his other knee forcing his torso to the floor.

The disgraced Hunter more felt then consciously understood what would come next. That cold lurching in his veins, his stomach churning in warning for the last time.

Something in the dark was growling now. A low chuckle, seductive, inviting and completely terrifying.

For a moment, in that brief instant it took for a soul to understand that the body could not home it anymore, when all creatures would experience fade from the living's world, right in that moment… when darkness engulfed all, when the claws of the Dark Hunter served whatever connection to life…

He, the Dark One, the end of all creatures, was chuckling. Only white fangs showing, and a second later Ho'kan proudly held up another Trophy for his wall.

XXX

"This one didn't resist their assault", Velk'n relayed, upon analyzing Sabrina's dead body.

"It will be a pleasure to take your skull once I'm through with you", Setg'n'kah snarled to the only Bad Blood survivor. He teared an arm and leg off, the fucker would need to be carried back.

"This one is your prisioner, Enforcer", another Hunter said, dragging the female mercenary by the arm.

Ah'kaedh looked over, right after breaking the neck of the last sex slave.

Lance's Hunter had blindfolded them, and waited a bit until the crying ceased, before euthanizing each and every slave.

Ah'kaedh prefered to not make them suffer, or experience deep terror while performing his job.

Breaking their necks did the trick; none of them even noticed what was happening. Quick and silent work, and now that it was all done, he just gestures for him to bring the prisoner close.

"The ooman with your Medic said the other prisoner could be useful", Velk'n reminded Ah'kaedh.

"Let's take it back. Finishing it off here or onboard makes no difference", Setg'n'kah suggested.

It. That's the only pronoun some Hunters would ever grant oomans. Ah'kaedh for the most part despised that species. How ironic he would have a ton of pet names for his 'tiny pest'.

"Can you walk?", Ah'kaedh asked in English. The mercenary was quick to nod.

XXX

Lar'jar was sitting, his brother's ooman tending to his arm when the hunting pack arrived.

Lance halted when Lar'jar stopped chatting, turning his head in the direction of the noise her ears were not able to perceive.

"Keep working", he instructed. Lance nodded, now full attention on his fracture.

The Medic had opened the flesh in his limb, in order to take off any dirt and properly reset the bones and be sure no splinters were left uncared for.

The Girl rather felt when Ah'kaedh stepped inside, since her eyes were glued to his older brother's wound.

"Motherfu… hmmmrrmm", she hissed under her breath, hoping the translator would not pick up the little outburst.

"Let's avoid slang, hm?", the yellow-eyed dark Yautja chuckled. "We will join you once we are finished here, Ah'kaedh".

A jerk, indeed, with refined sadistic tendencies.

XXX

Lance's presence at Kivar's vessel became non-negotiable; Lar'jar made it clear he would need assistence, and if the ooman was more qualified than other available Yautjas, they better find a way to soothe their own egos.

The Medic was far too old and busy to make concessions, and he made it very clear to the 3 enforcers. And to Setg'n'kah and Kivar, he had some extra words: if they planned to allow hunters to make special requests and refuse treatment by the ooman's hands, they better leave the hunt for Ah'kaedh's crew and return home before it was done.

After lowkey wiping the floor with their collective pride (make no mistake, he was secretly having fun while at it), the Medic went about his duties, ooman in tow.

Medic and Girl spent another good day making sure all patients in the med-bay were properly cared for, pain managed, all necessary procedures to grant them a full recovery underway.

2 would need a proper medical team. No, not Kivar. But Setg'n'kah medic. His bones were so crushed and tissue so ravaged that he would need specialized intervention.

"I didn't realize you also had cryochambers", Lance observed, when they put the two Yautjas under.

"Ancient technology, but useful for medical purposes. We can keep a slow flow of plasma being pumped, so we will load him with medication akin to our salve, but not much".

If done in excess, cicatrization would fuck the medic legs. But having the flesh ready to make optimal recovery after the procedure would ensure successful rehabilitation.

"Oh, like bypass?"

"You will need to explain to me exactly what you mean by that later", and instructed the Girl to go check on Setg'n'kah and another two.

Ah'kaedh would owe him one heart after this. Lar'jar was risking his good stand in order to get his ooman some recognition for her value. The Hunters' pride would prevent them from recognizing skills related to their own, but her merits as a healer? Easy to accept. Especially when the results were undeniable.

XXX

"Way to go ki… Ho'kan, you came back unscathed!", the bright tone could not be captured by the beacon, but the Kid could see it in Lance's face.

(Who was also avoiding calling him kiddo around others).

"That was luck", he grinned. Humility was not exactly something one would expect from Yautjas. Ho'kan was only being truthful. He didn't need to keep a certain pose or boast his deeds around Lance. She was not from his clan, nor his people. He had not even a gram of desire towards her. And the Girl was friendly enough. No social games, no sexual innuendo, no expectations.

He would not call it a friendship simply because he never really thought about it, but Ho'kan felt at ease to simply be at her side.

"Dude, keep working hard, and you will be always blessed with that luck of yours", she winked at him. And of course, he had no idea of what that meant.

"Do you have something on your eye? Oomans' bodies are so fucking delicate…"

XXX

Lar'jar put the Kid on 'Ah'kaedh's duty', unbeknownst to both. To keep his younger brother busy (and away from Lance).

The Medic insisted with his brother to get things finished at the planet at once, and used all his tricks to convince Ah'kaedh to go to the Bad Bloods' wreckage, and survey the fucking vessel already!

Of course, Lar'jar was only pull it after sneakily needling Kivar and Setg'n'kah both (so there was extra pressure to do things now).

Paya guard him, Ah'kaedh would probably jump into a physical fight if he discovered what Lar'jar had done.

Lance's Hunter had almost no time around his Girl once he came back, and surely had no opportunity for sex (in the middle of the mating season, it would not only needle the Hunters regular xenophobia, it would also put them quite on edge).

Ah'kaedh's souring mood was not easily noticeable by people who didn't knew him personally (the joys of being stoic and introverted). But Lar'jar knew. He could see the subtle differences in his posture miles away. Having his little brother's back was never so fun.

XXX

"Sir, are you sure you don't want the numbing lotion?"

Lance cringed every time she went about treating Setg'n'kah. Lar'jar told her to care for him the way she saw fit, and since the Girl thought he was probably evaluating her skills (which he was also doing, but no, not his first concern), she came up with a routine to check on the enforcer every four hours during their waking hours.

(Which bothered Ah'kaedh to no fucking end. Imagine that: the fucker was getting more time with His Girl than himself).

"I told you to keep your suggestions to yourself, ooman", the enforcer growled, flaring his mandibles slightly. Everything in his body language screamed 'I despise you, you disgusting creature'.

"As you wish", was her answer, in her ever neutral tone. And back to work she went.

The enforcer could not figure out how she could be so attentive - everytime he addressed her, Setg'n'kah made sure to let her know how grossed out he was by her presence and yet…

The ooman didn't even try to fuck with him, not a little bit, not even by applying just a tiny bit more of strength when cleaning the devastation of his quasi-skinned back. And it was not out of fear. Unless her glands were broken somehow - which was a possibility.

Since day one that alien had scent had not carried enough fear, and he had encountered other females of her species reeking of it just the other day. Setg'n'kah knew for a fact she was running low on distress.

"Sir, I have a question pertinent to your injuries", the creature announced. Lying on his belly, he growled for her to go ahead.

"I've noticed there is an object of some sort embedded in your left thigh. It's easy to remove it since… I'm already treating you".

The enforcer became instantly frustrated. He had an injury some months ago that healed while his pack was still on the field, away from his medic. Setg'n'kah knew about half a talon lodged there. The pain barely bothered him, and his body was not trying to spit it out, but yeah… it needed to be removed. His Medic was about to get around it, when a Clanship contacted him about the Hunt for this Band of Bad Bloods. They decided it could be done later.

"You may leave it", he grumbled.

For some reason, Lance decided it was better to insist:

"Sir, it's quick work. I'm already tending your wounds…"

"I said leave it, ooman. Who do you think you are to second guess me?"

"A combat medic and field surgeon, sir. I have cared for worse injuries. In your own species, I should add", she delivered it in the same rehearsed calm tone, but her fear spiked upwards, and he did notice. Even before answering.

The female knew she was inciting his ire. And did it anyway.

"Do you have a death wish?"

More fear. Interesting…

"Just doing my job, sir. And letting you know Lar'jar didn't request me on a whim. He did so because I can perform in a satisfactory manner", each and every word was said slowly, between breaths, so she could keep a semblance of calm. On the surface.

Setg'n'kah looked over his shoulder.

"Shall I ask Lar'jar to come and evaluate your leg, sir?"

XXX

"You should not be moving your fingers, you know that right?", Lance frown was out of concern.

"Testing the nerves response", Lar'jar answered.

"I could have used a needle…"

"I also want to measure my pain and how wide movements I can achieve", he interrupted her, clicking his mandibles.

"Surely hurts like hell", her face was still holding a concerned appearance.

"Thankfully hurts like hell", his clicking carried. His nerves were functioning 100%.

"Alright, if you are satisfied, can I cast you?"

The Medic was about to snark her, when a message blipped on the med-bay screen.

"Lar'jar, we need your assistance on site", Velk'n was right to the point.

"Any new injuries?"

"No. Come at once, we are waiting".

Lance remained silent. As did Lar'Jar.

"Is that common?", she asked after a long silence. Lar'jar was already gathering his things.

"You mean, not relay the reason for the request? No. Velk'n was also exasperated. Something they found made him visibly disturbed ", he grumbled, trying to imagine what would throw the hunter off.

Yautjas were not easily disturbed, not like that. Irritated? Yes. But shaken?

"By the way, pack your things. And grab an extra med-kit, one like mine".

Lar'jar was not about to leave her alone with Kivar onboard the ship.

XXX

Ah'kaedh had Ho'kan and another Hunter to retrieve all communications recordings made from this ship for the last five decades.

The Enforcers examined each chamber, minutely, looking for anything that could give them any sort of clue and information about the extent of this Bad Blood band.

Their Yautja prisoner would rue the day of his birth. But that would come later.

Ah'kaedh would need to discuss with Kivar and Setg'n'kah around seriously attempting to capture Rot'gar alive, rather than simply execute him on the spot.

It was not every day a Enforcer would find the remains of an unborn sucking onboard a Bad Blood's ship.