Possibilities
folder
M through R › Predator
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
7,500
Reviews:
30
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › Predator
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
7,500
Reviews:
30
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Predator movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Possibilities
Possibilities
--------------
Disclaimer: OPPS forgot this- All licensing and trademark rights belong to Twentienth Century Fox. I am not connected to the movie 'Predator' in any way and do not receive any profit from my writing of fan fiction
Timeline: roughly a dozen years after Alien 4
Author's Note: I was inspired to try writing this after reading the other great stories on this site. Ideas are my own- I have only watched the movies. Did get some background info from the website www.thehunted.tk
Chapter 1
Kir stroked his lower mandibles together thoughtfully as he regarded the other warrior running through the approach procedures on the Command Center of his ship. The male's shoulders drooped and his movements were lackluster. Kir chittered low and softly to himself. Salek had been like this since his return from the breeding ceremony. The younger male had been so excited after the Elders had picked him to attend. He had only been a few times and he was convinced that this would be the 'one'. The one where he was elevated from Champion to Chosen when the female in heat mated with him as well as several others. It was not to be. There were just so many males and, though the raptor skulls had impressed the Elders, it was ultimately the females final choice.
When had he- himself- given up, considered Kir. How many ceremonies and disappointments had it taken. Instead of being inspired to hunt a more dangerous prey for a trophy and allowing the Matha juice to give him rosy memories. Memories of lust as he rutted with other males surrounding the raised dais the female was crouched on as warriors picked by her from the crowd bred her and roared. At his last one he had found Salek, who had been flattered that an older Blooded male had shown interest in him. They had been together ever since. Now instead of encouraging the younger warrior, he worried when Salek went hunting for trophies that would earn him status, a few moments of pleasure and the hope that his genetic material would be combined with the others to produce young. Younglings that would consist of several pairs of males, and if blessed- a single female.
His black talons tapped over the lighted symbols on his control panel as he regarded Salek. The other warrior was actually taller than himself but his own more massively muscled build made him appear larger. The slightly slender body of Salek had smooth ripples of muscles and his hide had a striking dark swirling pattern that was unmarked due to their race's healing powers as only the acid of a Hard Meat could scar them. His eyes were a deep gray and his mandibles were pale with black tips. Kir had no idea why the female hadn't been just as attracted as he was to Salek, but never being around one he could only wonder. They were always secluded from the populace of rowdy males in the beautiful citadels of the cities or on private reserves of wilderness attended by their most cherished of Chosens. He had faded memories of his mother- soft laughter, warmth and soothing lullabies. Also fond memories of care from the older males and roughhousing with his littermates before he and his brothers were picked by a Weapon's Master to be trained in the art of the Hunt. Hunts that could never truly be considered successful when the outcome did not assured you the right to mate- only the chance. Kir remembered. It was the knowledge that his marking of himself with his Hard Meat kill, the most difficult trophy of all and the only one worthy of a marking, had failed to impress the female that had turned him cynical and discouraged. Turned him from the glory of the Hunt to the security of his transport business and the company of his lover.
A lover that wanted to be left alone. Stroking his sore belly, Kir remembered how his overtures of affection had been received. A fist to the mid-section that he did not want repeated. What had Salek growled at him, it had been Ooman slang. His mind searched as he considered different phases. The smaller species has such an odd language and he was less skilled in it than the other male. Ah, yes.. a pity fuck. That was the expression.
He growled to himself. Kir decided he did not care for that expression, but there were many he didn't like that the Oomans used that he was forced to learn with his dealings with the smaller species. No warrior on his homeworld would have thought they would have a tentative treaty with the race they once hunted and until recently had considered as lesser beings. But the Oomans had proven themselves to be ruthless killers and their common and ever- spreading enemy, the Hard Meats had changed that. Just like he had changed, now trading goods and supplies instead of collecting skulls. His mind turned to business as the ship approached the Ooman's lunar space station and prepared to connect to its docking arm apparatus.
C-7 was one of the Oomans deepest stations in the vastness of space and his craft, The Blood Wing, was a semi-often visitor. Kir was one of the few of his kind that had regular merchant trafficking with the Oomans and he had found it profitable and quietly satisfying. Not the thrill of the Hunt, but still good. Kir chittered in mirth, as he considered this sign of his advancing age. Powerful muscles flexed as he punched in the proper authorization to dock. Oomans tended to still be nervous of his kind he reflected, still softly chittering his laughter. Stomping around their space station and towering over them probably didn't ease the wary relationship between the two species. But it was amusing.
Salek especially anticipated their brief visits during their trade route until now. Kir observed his lover closely and was relieved to see him appear more animated than earlier. Maybe on this visit they could stay longer if it cheered up his bondmate. It would be worth being surrounded by Oomans to get sex again. He had missed it and his clawed hand just wasn't the same as Salek's tight warmth. He watched Salek adjust his scant clothing and frowned slightly as to why the other male bothered. Looking down at himself, Kir noticed that he too had a few favorite keepsake trophies adorning his appearance. He was interrupted from his puzzlement by the loud clanging of the docking doors attaching to the Blood Wing's outer hull.
Lowering their cargo ramp they tromped down to survey the bustling loading area. As they paused to assess their surroundings Kir became aware that they were waiting. Frowning he considered this. At his fierce expression the nearby Oomans scuttled away. None approached to assist them and he realized what was different. Their usual dock worker had failed to make a quick appearance. Often the familiar figure in the bulky orange coveralls would be waiting for their arrival. The two males grumbled and growled as they proceeded to unload their merchandise. They didn't trust any of the other Oomans, and under close supervision they tended to be even clumsier. Only Sam they trusted, especially to work the metal skeleton that made the job so much easier. They had considered buying one for themselves until they realized neither could fit into it. It took longer than usual to unload to the flatbed mover that transported the cargo to their storage unit. By the time they were finished both males were grumpy and sweating a fine pale green sheen. Securing their merchandise, Kir entered their storage unit number into the mover's control panel and watched it speed away. Still they lingered.
Then they heard their names being called out in a voice they recognized. Turning, they watched Sam slowly limp the distance of the cavernous cargo bay. The approaching figure was using a stick for support. A cane was the proper word, Kir remembered. Something else was very different concerning their acquaintance he noticed as they waited. Sam clothing had varied and Kir came to the conclusion that this was the Ooman's 'non-work' attire. Gleaming pale gold hair shined under the harsh lights instead of an orange hard hat. And in a close fitting top the Ooman's breasts were more pronounced than in a bulky coverall. But then, all Ooman female's breasts were larger than their females. Their breasts only developed for feeding the younglings. With most Oomans Kir thought they looked lumpy but Sam's were swaying slightly under her top and caught his attention. Hers instead looked...soft. She came to a stop in front of them and continued to talk non-stop. Salek had commented to him before in private that Sam was helpful for learning the strange language as she never halted speaking. As Sam and Salek conversed he observed them. Salek had tilted his head down but not too far as Sam was very tall for an Ooman, a rarity among that kind's females Sam had informed them during one of their first meetings. She towered over several of her fellow workers at 6'2" and was only a foot shorter than them. Long legs were encased in thin pants and he saw her muscles flex as she shifted to rest her injured leg and an odd bulge was in one of her pockets. Her hand not gripping the cane pressed against her opposite ribs, her arm causing her breasts to push further from the low neckline of her top. Pale creamy skin swelled as Kir watched. Usually unpatterned one color skin would be boring but today it seemed more interesting than usual. His attention sharpened on the conversation as Sam explained her accident at work that injured her and caused her to be late as she had hurried from her quarters for their arrival. Two things he noticed. The first was the accident seemed odd as he considered the heavy steel cables hanging from the ceiling and the other was that she had expressed such an eagerness to visit with them. Something Kir admitted to himself that the three of them had in common.
The talk had switched as Sam noticed and asked about the polished new tooth adorning a prominent place on Salek's vest. Wide eyed, she listened to the adventure of hunting the raptors in the jungles of Dlma. Kir easily observed her amazement and admiration over the other warrior's prowess and skill. The reaction all hunters yearned for but seldom received from their own females. An idea was forming in his mind, one not so quickly dismissed as he would have assumed. Could their two races be compatible, on an intimate physical level he wondered. He heard Salek's chittering laugh and watched the other male preen under the Ooman females' attention. He considered his own earlier care to his appearance and the fact they both had been expecting Sam to be waiting for them to arrive. And the disappointment when she was not there to greet them.
He waited for a pause in the conversation to mention that their stay would be longer than normal. Sam looked pleased, he had learned the showing of many teeth meant that among Oomans, and Salek did not protest or even question the change of plans. Kir asked Sam concerning any entertainment the station had to offer and she mentioned a live music band playing that evening. She had wanted to attend but, as it was standing room only, Sam was worried about being unbalanced with the crowd surging around her. The two massive males shared a look and calmly reassured her. A 'mosh pit' as she called it did not overly concern them. She seemed excited about their outing, Sam had mentioned being restless as she was on medical leave from her job. She said she had been so bored she braided her hair.
Turning she showed the males the many thin braids tumbling down her back. She had decorated them with metal bands similar to ones on their dreads. One hand braced on her cane, the other resting on the curve of a flaring feminine hip, she peered over her shoulder for their reaction. Kir could not help but compare her to one of their own females, especially as her lower face was hidden from view and only bright green eyes regarded him. He felt his male member hardening and his balls drop from the safety of their cavity as his body stirred with arousal. Kir noted that Salek smelled his scent and appeared confused. But soon the other male joined him in his intent regard of the female before them.
Then awareness of each other caused tension to hum silently in the space between them. Both warriors turned slightly and they considered the other. Kir realized that they were instinctively viewing the other as a competitor and a part of him was saddened by this. Salek's aggressive stance too, was tinged with uncertainty as he stared back at his lover.
"Guys, I got a surprise for you" Sam's confused voice hurriedly broke the tense moment. She dug into a side pocket on the leg of her pants and withdrew the round object Kir had noticed earlier.
"Its an orange," she showed them brandishing the fruit. "The're kinda expensive so I only got one." She paused biting her lip in a nervous habit Kir realized he recognized.
"I hope you two don't mind sharing?"
The two warriors regarded each other and slowly relaxed.
"No, I think we can enjoy sharing." Kir gave a Yautja version of her smile.
Sam blinked before she smiled back
To be continued---
< myladymystere >
--------------
Disclaimer: OPPS forgot this- All licensing and trademark rights belong to Twentienth Century Fox. I am not connected to the movie 'Predator' in any way and do not receive any profit from my writing of fan fiction
Timeline: roughly a dozen years after Alien 4
Author's Note: I was inspired to try writing this after reading the other great stories on this site. Ideas are my own- I have only watched the movies. Did get some background info from the website www.thehunted.tk
Chapter 1
Kir stroked his lower mandibles together thoughtfully as he regarded the other warrior running through the approach procedures on the Command Center of his ship. The male's shoulders drooped and his movements were lackluster. Kir chittered low and softly to himself. Salek had been like this since his return from the breeding ceremony. The younger male had been so excited after the Elders had picked him to attend. He had only been a few times and he was convinced that this would be the 'one'. The one where he was elevated from Champion to Chosen when the female in heat mated with him as well as several others. It was not to be. There were just so many males and, though the raptor skulls had impressed the Elders, it was ultimately the females final choice.
When had he- himself- given up, considered Kir. How many ceremonies and disappointments had it taken. Instead of being inspired to hunt a more dangerous prey for a trophy and allowing the Matha juice to give him rosy memories. Memories of lust as he rutted with other males surrounding the raised dais the female was crouched on as warriors picked by her from the crowd bred her and roared. At his last one he had found Salek, who had been flattered that an older Blooded male had shown interest in him. They had been together ever since. Now instead of encouraging the younger warrior, he worried when Salek went hunting for trophies that would earn him status, a few moments of pleasure and the hope that his genetic material would be combined with the others to produce young. Younglings that would consist of several pairs of males, and if blessed- a single female.
His black talons tapped over the lighted symbols on his control panel as he regarded Salek. The other warrior was actually taller than himself but his own more massively muscled build made him appear larger. The slightly slender body of Salek had smooth ripples of muscles and his hide had a striking dark swirling pattern that was unmarked due to their race's healing powers as only the acid of a Hard Meat could scar them. His eyes were a deep gray and his mandibles were pale with black tips. Kir had no idea why the female hadn't been just as attracted as he was to Salek, but never being around one he could only wonder. They were always secluded from the populace of rowdy males in the beautiful citadels of the cities or on private reserves of wilderness attended by their most cherished of Chosens. He had faded memories of his mother- soft laughter, warmth and soothing lullabies. Also fond memories of care from the older males and roughhousing with his littermates before he and his brothers were picked by a Weapon's Master to be trained in the art of the Hunt. Hunts that could never truly be considered successful when the outcome did not assured you the right to mate- only the chance. Kir remembered. It was the knowledge that his marking of himself with his Hard Meat kill, the most difficult trophy of all and the only one worthy of a marking, had failed to impress the female that had turned him cynical and discouraged. Turned him from the glory of the Hunt to the security of his transport business and the company of his lover.
A lover that wanted to be left alone. Stroking his sore belly, Kir remembered how his overtures of affection had been received. A fist to the mid-section that he did not want repeated. What had Salek growled at him, it had been Ooman slang. His mind searched as he considered different phases. The smaller species has such an odd language and he was less skilled in it than the other male. Ah, yes.. a pity fuck. That was the expression.
He growled to himself. Kir decided he did not care for that expression, but there were many he didn't like that the Oomans used that he was forced to learn with his dealings with the smaller species. No warrior on his homeworld would have thought they would have a tentative treaty with the race they once hunted and until recently had considered as lesser beings. But the Oomans had proven themselves to be ruthless killers and their common and ever- spreading enemy, the Hard Meats had changed that. Just like he had changed, now trading goods and supplies instead of collecting skulls. His mind turned to business as the ship approached the Ooman's lunar space station and prepared to connect to its docking arm apparatus.
C-7 was one of the Oomans deepest stations in the vastness of space and his craft, The Blood Wing, was a semi-often visitor. Kir was one of the few of his kind that had regular merchant trafficking with the Oomans and he had found it profitable and quietly satisfying. Not the thrill of the Hunt, but still good. Kir chittered in mirth, as he considered this sign of his advancing age. Powerful muscles flexed as he punched in the proper authorization to dock. Oomans tended to still be nervous of his kind he reflected, still softly chittering his laughter. Stomping around their space station and towering over them probably didn't ease the wary relationship between the two species. But it was amusing.
Salek especially anticipated their brief visits during their trade route until now. Kir observed his lover closely and was relieved to see him appear more animated than earlier. Maybe on this visit they could stay longer if it cheered up his bondmate. It would be worth being surrounded by Oomans to get sex again. He had missed it and his clawed hand just wasn't the same as Salek's tight warmth. He watched Salek adjust his scant clothing and frowned slightly as to why the other male bothered. Looking down at himself, Kir noticed that he too had a few favorite keepsake trophies adorning his appearance. He was interrupted from his puzzlement by the loud clanging of the docking doors attaching to the Blood Wing's outer hull.
Lowering their cargo ramp they tromped down to survey the bustling loading area. As they paused to assess their surroundings Kir became aware that they were waiting. Frowning he considered this. At his fierce expression the nearby Oomans scuttled away. None approached to assist them and he realized what was different. Their usual dock worker had failed to make a quick appearance. Often the familiar figure in the bulky orange coveralls would be waiting for their arrival. The two males grumbled and growled as they proceeded to unload their merchandise. They didn't trust any of the other Oomans, and under close supervision they tended to be even clumsier. Only Sam they trusted, especially to work the metal skeleton that made the job so much easier. They had considered buying one for themselves until they realized neither could fit into it. It took longer than usual to unload to the flatbed mover that transported the cargo to their storage unit. By the time they were finished both males were grumpy and sweating a fine pale green sheen. Securing their merchandise, Kir entered their storage unit number into the mover's control panel and watched it speed away. Still they lingered.
Then they heard their names being called out in a voice they recognized. Turning, they watched Sam slowly limp the distance of the cavernous cargo bay. The approaching figure was using a stick for support. A cane was the proper word, Kir remembered. Something else was very different concerning their acquaintance he noticed as they waited. Sam clothing had varied and Kir came to the conclusion that this was the Ooman's 'non-work' attire. Gleaming pale gold hair shined under the harsh lights instead of an orange hard hat. And in a close fitting top the Ooman's breasts were more pronounced than in a bulky coverall. But then, all Ooman female's breasts were larger than their females. Their breasts only developed for feeding the younglings. With most Oomans Kir thought they looked lumpy but Sam's were swaying slightly under her top and caught his attention. Hers instead looked...soft. She came to a stop in front of them and continued to talk non-stop. Salek had commented to him before in private that Sam was helpful for learning the strange language as she never halted speaking. As Sam and Salek conversed he observed them. Salek had tilted his head down but not too far as Sam was very tall for an Ooman, a rarity among that kind's females Sam had informed them during one of their first meetings. She towered over several of her fellow workers at 6'2" and was only a foot shorter than them. Long legs were encased in thin pants and he saw her muscles flex as she shifted to rest her injured leg and an odd bulge was in one of her pockets. Her hand not gripping the cane pressed against her opposite ribs, her arm causing her breasts to push further from the low neckline of her top. Pale creamy skin swelled as Kir watched. Usually unpatterned one color skin would be boring but today it seemed more interesting than usual. His attention sharpened on the conversation as Sam explained her accident at work that injured her and caused her to be late as she had hurried from her quarters for their arrival. Two things he noticed. The first was the accident seemed odd as he considered the heavy steel cables hanging from the ceiling and the other was that she had expressed such an eagerness to visit with them. Something Kir admitted to himself that the three of them had in common.
The talk had switched as Sam noticed and asked about the polished new tooth adorning a prominent place on Salek's vest. Wide eyed, she listened to the adventure of hunting the raptors in the jungles of Dlma. Kir easily observed her amazement and admiration over the other warrior's prowess and skill. The reaction all hunters yearned for but seldom received from their own females. An idea was forming in his mind, one not so quickly dismissed as he would have assumed. Could their two races be compatible, on an intimate physical level he wondered. He heard Salek's chittering laugh and watched the other male preen under the Ooman females' attention. He considered his own earlier care to his appearance and the fact they both had been expecting Sam to be waiting for them to arrive. And the disappointment when she was not there to greet them.
He waited for a pause in the conversation to mention that their stay would be longer than normal. Sam looked pleased, he had learned the showing of many teeth meant that among Oomans, and Salek did not protest or even question the change of plans. Kir asked Sam concerning any entertainment the station had to offer and she mentioned a live music band playing that evening. She had wanted to attend but, as it was standing room only, Sam was worried about being unbalanced with the crowd surging around her. The two massive males shared a look and calmly reassured her. A 'mosh pit' as she called it did not overly concern them. She seemed excited about their outing, Sam had mentioned being restless as she was on medical leave from her job. She said she had been so bored she braided her hair.
Turning she showed the males the many thin braids tumbling down her back. She had decorated them with metal bands similar to ones on their dreads. One hand braced on her cane, the other resting on the curve of a flaring feminine hip, she peered over her shoulder for their reaction. Kir could not help but compare her to one of their own females, especially as her lower face was hidden from view and only bright green eyes regarded him. He felt his male member hardening and his balls drop from the safety of their cavity as his body stirred with arousal. Kir noted that Salek smelled his scent and appeared confused. But soon the other male joined him in his intent regard of the female before them.
Then awareness of each other caused tension to hum silently in the space between them. Both warriors turned slightly and they considered the other. Kir realized that they were instinctively viewing the other as a competitor and a part of him was saddened by this. Salek's aggressive stance too, was tinged with uncertainty as he stared back at his lover.
"Guys, I got a surprise for you" Sam's confused voice hurriedly broke the tense moment. She dug into a side pocket on the leg of her pants and withdrew the round object Kir had noticed earlier.
"Its an orange," she showed them brandishing the fruit. "The're kinda expensive so I only got one." She paused biting her lip in a nervous habit Kir realized he recognized.
"I hope you two don't mind sharing?"
The two warriors regarded each other and slowly relaxed.
"No, I think we can enjoy sharing." Kir gave a Yautja version of her smile.
Sam blinked before she smiled back
To be continued---
< myladymystere >