So Trailblazer has something like 170k words in random side stories, snips and goof scenes I wrote for fun but those never made it off Spacebattles because there's so many of them (and they don't fit clearly chronologically so...). I wanted to avoid that with this fic and fortunately the one off scenes I wrote for Little Hunter actually come together chronologically in a way that makes sense.
Doing Nothing at All
Ten Years Ago
"There's been an incident," Doctor Mother announced. "The pyramid activated."
Around the room, her cohorts tensed, frowned, and looked on warily.
"What did they want?" Rebecca asked.
"Us to stay out of their business. As usual."
David scoffed and shook his head. "Who are we letting them murder this time?"
A stupid, rhetorical, question. The hunters never called to say why they were stopping by. If those who did even know that Cauldron had a line of communication to the Council of Elders. Contessa had determined enough about the Yautja to know they bore no government. Not as a species. Their family groups and clans went about their own affairs with only a feeble council operating as anything akin to a leading body.
"I don't think it's about that." She brought up the notebook she'd hastily scrawled some text on. "I've tried to grab what I can but the Chief Director of the PRT might need to get involved to be sure."
Rebecca twitched, her normally stoic demeanor broken by a flash of recognition. "This is about the incident earlier tonight, isn't it?"
"What incident?" Keith asked.
"A UFO. I've been keeping track ever since you-know-what."
He nodded grimly. The incident with Hero still loomed large on all their thoughts, as did the poor soul they'd sacrificed to the Nine to hide the truth.
"UFO where?" David asked.
"Over Africa. The detection was brief. Chalked up to a system error because it vanished in a blink."
Keith frowned. "What does that mean?"
"According to the Elders, one of their ships has crashed."
All three of the Triumvirate started. "There's Yautja technology just laying around for any warlord to grab?"
"Not for long." Reading on, Doctor Mother explained, "The Council is sending their own 'Enforcers' to clean up the mess. They say the hunters aboard the ship are criminals who have 'dangerous prey' in their possession."
David shook his head. "Figures."
"No." Fortuna looked over, her face uncharacteristically pale. "The paths are shifting. Significantly."
Doctor Mother nodded. "This isn't a warning to stay away."
"It's not?" Keith asked in surprised.
"No. They're telling us to be ready for a potential outbreak."
David rose to his feet. "Outbreak of what?"
"Something called 'R'ka.' They didn't explain."
"We should-"
"No." Fortuna's voice was firm and calmer than she looked. "Let the hunters handle this. Any interference on our part only makes things worse."
"So there's a ship that crashed into Africa carrying something that is extremely dangerous," Keith grumbled, "something the Yautja keep around on purpose, and that is so bad they actually bothered to send us a warning about it?"
When he put it like that, Doctor Mother shared a glance with Fortuna and paled herself.
That sounded like exactly the sort of mess that forged the treaty with the Elders in the first place. A world ending sort of event.
"Contessa?" Rebecca asked.
"We need to do nothing. The world doesn't end, but anything we might do complicates the paths."
"You're sure?" David asked.
"Yes. Whoever these 'enforcers' are, they are going to succeed in their mission."
"A team to scuttle the ship," Rebecca guessed. "Clean up the mess and..."
"And any witnesses," David concluded.
Rebecca nodded grimly.
And getting any of their own people involved, or anyone else, only created a crumb trail of more witnesses that the 'enforcers' might decide to clean up.
"The situation will be contained?" Doctor Mother asked.
Fortuna nodded grimly. "Yes. No significant consequences from this event if we let it play out as is."
"Great." David shook his head. "Doing nothing again."
Doctor Mother left him to stew.
Sometimes, doing the right thing meant doing absolutely nothing at all.
Stargazer
Taylor waved her hand over the door and wanted to scream.
It wouldn't open.
She was so much smaller than everyone else the door literally couldn't recognize anyone was standing in front of it and it wouldn't open. Because it wouldn't open, the hall remained dark and quiet. Barely lit by some light strips set into the ribbing that lined the corridor like the inside of a weird skeleton. It was hot, and wet, and weird sounds and rumbles shook through the deck.
Taylor felt like she'd lose her mind.
If she could just get the door to—
The sound of clicking and guttural growls echoed from behind her.
Taylor froze, her entire body going rigid. She didn't hear anyone. The deck was quiet. But it was always quiet. Despite the giant monster's sheer size, they were so incredibly quiet. Except when they wanted someone to know something was there.
She felt the shadow fall over her more than anything.
Taylor turned, eyes looking up at the massive figure of the giant. She thought it was a woman but she honestly couldn't tell.
The face was scary, an animalistic visage with mandibles around a toothy mouth absent lips. She was missing two of the mandibles on one side of her face, and it made her look even scarier. Her eyes were soft though. Oddly gentle, compared to the rest of her.
"Pe'dte," Taylor whimpered.
It was the only word she'd learned thus far, and only because she'd realized it was the giant's name. She couldn't say it quite like all the other giants, but Pe'dte seemed to recognize her name regardless.
She looked at the door and then back down at Taylor.
With a single step, she moved closer and the passage opened. Taylor turned, eyes going wide as starlight flooded the chamber. She'd only seen it once before. They'd made her stand on a big stool for some reason while Pe'dte and others said a bunch of words. There had been shouting and pointing, and at least one of the other giants had tried to lunge at her.
Pe'dte intervened and struck that one so hard his bone popped out of his skin.
Taylor hadn't really known what the argument was about. She was scared, but the windows in the room...
She went close enough to touch one but didn't put her hands on the glass. A thousand lights danced in an endless night, flowing on ribbons of bright color. Part of her knew she was looking at space and that she was on a ship, but it hadn't fully registered yet.
Taylor just knew this wasn't her house. Mom hadn't locked all the doors. She hadn't refused to let her go outside. Didn't remind her for the millionth time the world was a dangerous place and they had to be careful.
As if she hadn't figured that out on her own.
The door closed and Pe'dte moved to sit on one of the benches and watch her.
She didn't know when she fell asleep.
She woke up briefly, laid across Pe'dte's lap. Her head hung, eyes closed as slow breaths passed her mouth. The giantess had moved from the bench to sit by the window, tucking Taylor into her lap as she did and covering her with a warm hide with stripes on the outside.
Cautiously, Taylor closed her tiny hand around one of Pe'dte's large, clawed fingers. She looked out the window again at the stars. And she closed her eyes to sleep.
Size Matters Not
"She's small," Rhark growled.
"And?" Pe'dte asked back.
The older hunter made a noise deep in his throat. "I wouldn't want her to get hurt."
Nanku was still learning the words, but she was eleven. Not stupid. Even aliens had sarcasm. Apparently.
Pe'dte stepped forward and snarled behind her mask. Nanku's eyes widened. She'd only recognized Pe'dte was big compared to her. A giant in every sense of the word. Standing by Rhark, another giant, she loomed even larger.
Rhark held his ground. For about five seconds.
Then he made another gruff noise and turned away.
Pe'dte huffed and crouched. Nanku stood stiffly as the woman checked her armor. It was all newly forged, a replacement for her first set she'd already grown out of in the past year.
"If he gives you trouble, say nothing." Pe'dte tugged on a strap and then tightened it. "He misses his nephews."
Nanku frowned. She didn't really know Pe'dte sons. She'd met them for all of a few minutes as—As the night came to an end. None of them survived.
"Size doesn't matter, Nanku. Hunting is a test of skill. Muscles are the male's obsession."
Nanku was glad she had a basic training mask over her face.
Hearing the largest hunter in the whole clan say size didn't matter seemed silly. She definitely had more muscle than some of the males too.
"Don't believe me?"
Nanku didn't say no.
Pe'dte clicked her mandibles a few times against the back-face of her mask.
"It is not about size," she said. "It is about intent. Plant your feet. Do not speak, but do not bow. Make it clear that you will not be perturbed. You earned your place here. You have nothing to prove, daughter."
At the last word, Nanku shifted uneasily.
The feelings around 'daughter' were... complicated.
Fixing the tracker to her arm like the other children, Pe'dte stood and pushed Nanku forward. "Go. There is no hiding from the world."
She walked away to join the other watching elders and Nanku turned to the other children her age.
Which seemed like a joke when Khrass and Griv were both twice her size.
They looked at her, heads tilted.
Nanku wanted to step back. Retreat. Gain some distance.
But Pe'dte's words rattled about her head.
She planted her feet, held her head high, and stared forward.
Khrass laughed.
Nanku's shoulders remained stiff.
Then they turned and started walking.
"You are small though," Khrass said.
"Really, really, small," Griv agreed.
"Maybe she can be bait. Stick her out in the open and let the Jask go after her."
Nanku scowled behind her mask. "Maybe I'll get the kill while you hide in the bushes."
They looked at each other and Nanku grimaced. She wasn't supposed to say anything! Five seconds and she'd already messed it up! Such a simple instruct—
Khrass laughed again. "Tiny with heart?"
Griv shrugged and turned to follow Rhark into the woods. "Tiny with a big mouth."
Nanku pouted.
"Fine." Khrass pushed a fist against her shoulder and nearly knocked Nanku off her feet. He froze a moment, seemingly surprised as she caught herself and barely avoided falling. "Guess the Jask wouldn't see it coming. Surprise is a good weapon."
Griv shook his head and turned away.
Khrass made some noises Nanku couldn't follow. Sometimes there were sounds that were words, but she didn't know they were words.
"Come then." The boy turned and started after Griv. "Before Rhark scolds us for dawdling."
Nanku stared, unsure if that was good or bad.
Neither?
Resisting the urge to look back and find Pe'dte in the crowd, she took the first step.
"Under the jaw," Khrass said.
Nanku raised her head.
He looked down at her awkwardly, like he didn't know how to talk to someone so small. He pointed at his throat.
"Stab under the jaw. Their hides are softer there."
"Huh?"
"The Jask. When you try to stab it."
Oh. "Okay."
"Don't get eaten... Though, if you do, it won't be hard to carry the pieces back. You are tiny."
Nanku was growing tired of hearing that word. "I wouldn't trouble you."
Khrass cocked his head.
"There wouldn't be anything to carry," she said. "Because I'm small."
He chuckled. "Tiny with big mouth and heart."
Nanku would be fifteen before she realized that was a compliment.
The Duel
"No."
The moment the word left her mouth, Rhark's hand slammed into the side of her head and sent Nanku spinning into the wall.
The blow rattled. Her bones arched and her skin throbbed.
"Elder!" Khrass spun, looking toward Pe'dte at the back of the chamber.
Nanku knew better.
She picked the fight. She forced Rhark to either strike her or lose all face. Pe'dte would not step in short of her adoptive uncle trying to kill her.
That was fine.
Nanku didn't expect her to.
She shook her head and pushed herself off the wall. Her vision still spun as she started back toward the giant older hunter. The one as responsible for her training as Pe'dte.
Nanku didn't want to fight him.
But as he reached for the kennel, Nanku swallowed and charged, running at him. Rhark shot his elbow back, aiming directly at her forehead. Nanku ducked.
Rhark trained her.
But they'd fought plenty.
Releasing the blades on her wrist, Nanku stabbed the elder in the back of his leg. He roared, spinning around and swiping his own blades toward her shoulder. Nanku didn't dodge. She stepped forward, turning her torso at an awkward angle.
The blades struck her skin and slid. The force of the thrust drew blood and pain spiked through her mind. Her toughened flesh cut shallow. Shallower than Rhark expected.
He snarled the moment Nanku rammed her fist into his throat and she followed the blow by stabbing her wrist blades into his armpit. The arm fell limp and she readied another strike when Rhark's foot crushed into ehr chest and threw her into the air. She hit the deck with her back, all air knocking from her lungs. She slid until her head cracked against the wall and Nanku was still shaking the bleariness away when she rolled.
Rhark roared, stomping after her as she strained to get enough distance to escape.
Nanku got onto her hands and knees and scramble. Rhark hook her stomach with his foot and started to kick her again.
The swarm flew into his face and started biting.
The ship was clean. Comparatively. There were few bugs. Little she could rely on. But what was there was tough enough to survive extermination, and their teeth were sharp.
Rhark shook his head and swiped at the air, and Nanku spun on her knee.
There was no such thing as 'underhanded' in a test of life and death. A duel wasn't that, but it was treated as one.
She felt no shame shoving her elbow into Rhark's crotch and following the blow with her knee.
Rhark gave a wailing squawking sound and Nanku relented as he fell. She drew the bugs back, sending them scurrying into the deck and hiding them nearby. She stepped over the giant. Twice her size. Three times her weight.
She placed her foot on his throat and snarled.
Normally, Rhark would give a sign of yielding, but she thought him dazed enough it was unnecessary.
She stumbled back, looking around the room as two dozen others watched on. Some murmured but none moved to continue the challenge.
Nanku won.
She stopped.
She won.
The shock left her stunned but she stumbled toward the kennel regardless.
She was accustomed to being watched, but always under a silent and judgmental gaze. She knew the truth. The clan tolerated her, as much as anything. because they respected and honored Pe'dte.
It felt different with Rhark on his back behind her. He was bigger than her. Older than her. Stronger than her. He shouldn't have lost. He wasn't that old. Nanku thought one of the watching hunters might object to her use of her power but if they did they didn't speak it. She wondered if they'd come around to her argument that it was no different than any other 'smart' weapon a hunter might use. The smart disks or the biomask. The plasma caster. She controlled the bugs directly by her own will.
She didn't 'train' them to do the work for her.
Maybe they'd simply grown tired of arguing with her about it when none felt strongly enough to do anything about it. Until now. Perhaps they considered the duel, however informal, final. Rhark challenged. Nanku responded. Nanku won.
The matter was settled.
Still, best to move to her own room where things would-
"Nanku!" Khrass' warning stunned her again.
Nanku turned slowly, freezing in place as Rhark aimed a knife for her heart.
Pe'dte's hand caught his wrist and in a single wrenching twist, she snapped his arm in half. Rhark roared and Pe'dte roared back. When he tried to punch her, she took it and kicked his knee so hard the leg snapped too.
Rhark dropped and Pe'dte snarled as she moved between him and Nanku.
Rhark started shouting. Nanku ignored his words, hurrying to the kennel and collecting her prizes. Rhark was still shouting as two others came forward, head bowed toward Pe'dte, and collected the wounded hunter. They lifted him with little care or concern and dragged his broken limbs out of the room to one of the medical chambers on the ship.
Nanku would avoid him for the next few days.
The crowd dispersed. Some descended the ramp down to the planet and turned for the landing field where small ships waited to ferry them elsewhere. Others returned inside. Some went back to training.
Khrass and the other youngbloods her age lingered, most watching from a distance. Jaska and Houri, the only females her age who bothered to give Nanku any 'kind' words, went around Pe'dte.
Jaska looked at Nanku's shoulder and scoffed. "Shallow."
"Reckless," Pe'dte warned. "He did not yield."
"He lost," Nanku insisted.
Attacking her from behind and aiming for a death blow was cowardly. It wasn't a fight to the death. Those had to be declared. Not sprung on someone from a prone position on the ground.
Nanku pondered the oddity of that.
The rules of dules were not the same as the rules of hunting. She'd have to ask Pe'dte why. She'd never given it much thought before.
"Never assume," Pe'dte warned. "No foe is vanquished until you vanquish them, or they surrender."
Nanku nodded and collected her prizes from the kennel.
Jaska and Houri leaned closer, looking curiously at what the fuss had been about.
Nanku held them to her chest, unconcerned by their sharp limbs or tiny teeth. They were little larger than her hand, with undersized wings and long taloned limbs. Their eyes were sharp, and they looked back and forth while their stomachs roiled.
Still Doing Nothing
Ten Years Later
"Another Yautja ship is entering orbit," Rebecca reported. "They passed Jupiter a few days ago."
"Where are they going?" David asked.
"The ship is vectoring to avoid the Simurgh, as they always do. That makes it a bit hard to know exactly where any shuttles or pods will touch down."
"Contessa?" Doctor Mother asked.
Fortuna shrugged. "No-"
"What?" Kieth asked.
"Nothing. Same as usual. The ship will touch down in the Americas and only briefly."
"That's a violation of the treaty," David said.
"Not technically," Rebecca reminded. "We told them we'd intervene in any hunt in the Americas, and they told us we were welcome to try."
"We won't intervene," Contessa said. "Things go smoothest without our direct involvement."
"The usual then," Keith concluded.
David grumbled. "I know, I know. We do nothing at all."