Rivers Run Deep

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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters related to Predator El, other unrelated human characters, and the character names of the predators Imade up, the concept of predator do not belong to me.



Authors Notes: This is a work of Fan fiction. please read on and enjoy.



WARNING: The following work of fiction contains, extream violence, course language (at times), sexual sudgestions, nudety, and explicit sex. If you are
under 18 (or whatever age is appropriate for your location), HIT YOUR
BACK BROWSER BUTTON NOW. If you find explicit sex offensive, please
don't offend yourself by reading further.



Author: Charlotte (jemstone5)

Email: jemstone5

Feedback: Please, yes lots.

Forward to others: would be flattered if you did.

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Rivers Run Deep




Chapter 24



The Bendling was a fine host. Chatty, like any woman, during socialization, reserved in the workplace, like most men. He educated her on the different nuances of the station, the way trades were negotiated, the significance of the trader’s tattoo on the arms of those who traded their goods, and what happened when a deal was made.


She marveled as she learned the tattoo was a kind of living organism, that when it came in contact with the skin of another, it left a telltale mark in the second person’s skin. This signified the deal had been made in good faith. When the tattoo came in contact with the same person again, the signature was removed. She asked if the tattoos ever got confused when more than one deal was made, and the Bendling informed her that each tattoo was specific to the DNA of the person bearing the tattoo. So even those of the same species could receive the tattoos.


She’d asked the Bendling what his name was, and he explained that the identities of his people were tied to their scent. Personal identifiers, such as her name, were unheard of for his people. He said that for someone to attract their attention, the one who sought him, would simply change their personal scent, to match, and the change would attract his attention.


El shook her head. She’d never be able to do that. “There are very few of my kind on the station,” he explained. “You may simply call me Bendling if you wish.” She thanked him, and continued to bombard him with questions. Especially about the bug people in the docking bay, sense the station security force, continually gave a daily warning about the mating pair, to alert those who would go that way.


It had been nearly 10 days, before Ver’On returned, in that time, El had managed to speak successfully with about a dozen more races. Though some of the conversations were a bit confusing, once the aliens had learned her translator was working overtime, they accommodated her curiosity, and let her talk nonstop to them, and they to her.


She was in the food center, when the Bendling found her, chatting up a storm with a group of Lizard like aliens, as they watched their table dancer on their table. “Excuse the interruption,” the Bendling stated, coming up behind the woman. “May I acquire this fine female from your company?”


One of the lizards looked at the unisexed alien, then back to the female. “You know this creature?” it asked.


“Yes, I do. What’s wrong Bendlin?”


He leaned in close to her ear. “There is a ship landing. I think you should be there,” he whispered.


She looked at him for a moment, then caught the gentle smile on his lips, and leapt from her seat. “It was nice talking with you gentlemen, enjoy the dance.” And before they could protest, the pair headed off in a hurry to the landing bay.


The Bendling directed her to docking bay 60, and watched from the secure visitor’s area, as the ship landed. She recognized it as Ver’On’s, only the ship was badly damaged down the port side. “Looks like they had a coolant leak,” the Bendling stated, as the ship made a hasty turn. “Looks like they have maneuvering problems too.”


“The ship is old. We had a lot of problems with it when we were in space.”


“Perhaps he should get a new one.” The indicator lights changed over the embarking door, letting them know the bay was re-pressurized and safe to enter. As the Bendling guided her around the ramps to the different levels, and waited for the maintenance crews to supply the necessary compounds to prevent the ship from leaking anything further.


The door to the ship opened, and Ver’On was helped out by the young male who’d gone with him. She rushed to his side, to support him, and to hold him. “What happened?” she asked, quickly examining the bandages around his upper right thy.


“Nothing that some medication won’t hurt,” the young male stated. “The hunt was glorious! He killed five more than I did!”


“One of these days, Ver’On, you will have to tell me the significance of these things you hunt.”


“The significance!” the younger scoffed, glaring at the female as they made their way to the lifts. “Ver’On, did you not tell her?” Ver’On shook his head. “They are the most vile, the most – ack!”


Ver’On had tightened his grip around the youngster’s neck to gain his attention, and silence. “I will tell her, when my wounds have been seen too. Come, I want to make sure they leave the scar this time.”


“Scars left? Ver’On, are you insane!?”


“My’El,” he said, grazing his masked chin over her brow. “Scars give us honor. They are a testament to our success. A symbol of our strength.” He reached down and boldly caressed her right breast. Sol tugged at his arm to balance him more his way.


“Easy honored hunter,” he sighed, “Your mate will give herself to you in time. For now, enjoy the medication in your system.”


“What did you do to him?” she asked.


“I only gave him some pain medication. But I think I may have given him too much.”


El shrieked, and pulled Ver’On’s hand back up to her shoulder, from where it had wandered down her back, and then some. “I’d say you gave him too much.”


“I see your translator has learned more of our language.”


“Yes, I’ve been talking everyone ears off. I wanted to be ready when Ver’On returned.”


“El,” the Bendling cut in, taking Ver’On’s wandering arm from her shoulders. “He’s not getting much support from you. Your stature is too short. Allow me.”


“Thank you Bendling,” she said, moving in front of him. She traced her fingers over his mask, its new mark across the top between the eye sockets, a slash across the top with the two small downward dashes beneath it. “It looks wonderful,” she said, and gently kissed the chin of his mask, tickling the skin under his chin. His purr sounded loudly through the small lift, and he followed her like a lost puppy, as she led the way to the infirmary.


It was the next morning before he’d woken, his leg sporting a huge ugly scar. He was quite proud. Then he saw El making her way into the room, a large bowl of green lumps in her hand. He groaned as she set it before him. “You’re wounded,” she reminded him. “Now don’t groan.”


He took the utensil she offered, sticking it into the bowl. “Ritual will be sweet,” he said, flexing his mandibles at her. She turned her head, the signal for a question, by now it was quite normal. “If we are to be mates in the eyes of my people, we must go through ritual first.”


“Nothing too hurtful I hope?”


“Not that you would complain about and not want to do again later.”


“What?” Just then Rysix entered, and took a quick look at the wound, and how well it had healed.


“Well,” he began, his green scales turning pale yellow, a signal she’d learned meant he was displeased. Figures, a physician told to leave a scar? How absurd, his handy work was ruined. “The wound is better. No signs of infection, the skin had bonded well, but I wish you would permit me to remove the scar.”


“No. I want that scar.”


“As you wish. You can go any time.”


“Thank you.” He pushed the tray aside, but El pulled it back in front of him.


“Eat first, leave later.”


“Make me, female…” he purred playfully. Rysix left with a sigh.


El leaned closer to him, making sure he could see the top curves of her breasts in her shirt. Ver’On looked, she’d no doubt that he would, his mandibles twitching with delight. “If you want to see them without clothing, you’ll eat that stuff.” And she stood, putting her hand over her open top, blocking his view.


Ver’On groaned, and took up the utensil again. “You are a cruel mate,” he said, forcing the bland food into his mouth. “I will certainly enjoy ritual with you.”


“You’ll have to tell me what I have to do during this ritual. I’m sure you spoke of it with Sol at lunch the day you left here. If you don’t tell me, I’ll ask him.”


“Do not!” he scoffed, some of the food flying off his inner teeth as he tried to shout passed a mouthful of it. “He is a boy, he doesn’t know anything of ritual yet.”


“Well someone had better tell me, otherwise I won’t do it.”


“You will,” he chuckled, “and you will enjoy it.” He pushed the empty bowl away, and got out of the bed. “Come, I need to see what repairs my ship needs.”


“Yes, about your ship. There’s a couple traders interested in trading a ship of theirs for yours,” she explained as he prepared to put on his mask. “They seem to be under the impression that I can sway you. I don’t know anything about these ships, and told them you will be the one who decides to trade it or not.”


“Not! That ship belonged to my Sire. I will not part with it.”


“Didn’t think so.”






The repairs to the ship, though appearing cosmetic, actually ran very deep. Whatever had happened to the hull, it ate through some of the stabilizing mechanisms, and part of the thruster units. It took about 4 days to fix, and trade for parts, often the three of them going to a number of traders to trade for different things so that they could get the parts traders wanted in trade for the parts Ver’On needed to repair the ship. But even then, it wasn’t’ enough. Without the hull plating to cover the gaping hole, the ship would not make it into hyper space. They were stuck. “Can we book passage?” she asked.


“What?”


“Book passage? Ask the pilots of other ships to give us a ride, so we can meet up with your people.”


Ver’On just looked at her from behind the expressionless mask. If she could see his face, she would know the shock and utter dismay he had at the shier audacity of her suggestion. “Ask prey, to give us a lift?” he asked her. He stood and put his hands on both her shoulders, giving her a gentle push as he spoke. “You oomans, are far too trusting. I’m surprised you have not wiped out each other by now.”


“Its not like hundreds haven’t tried. Look, it’s easy. On my world, if a ship at sea was in trouble, they send out a general distress. It’s the law that any ship in the area that receives the call has to offer aid. It’s universal, because you never know when you’ll need help yourself. Isn’t there something here that goes the same for space travelers?”


“No. If there is a distress call, it is often too late when you get to them. There are marauders out there that prey on ships in distress. And no alien vessel will give us passage.” And he began to walk away.


“If I can get us passage,” she asked, forcing him to turn back to her. “Would you go?”


“If you can get us passage,” he said with a slight chuckle. “I will tell you the details of the Ritual.”


“Deal?” she asked, extending her hand to him, as the traders had done to their customers.


Ver’On looked over her arm, there was no traders mark. He chuckled. “Deal.” And he clasped her arm in return. “In the mean time, I will do what I can to fix my ship. You my mate,” he grazed the back of his fingers over her chin, “stay out of trouble.”


“Trouble doesn’t have fun,” she chided, and in a swirl of the long dress skirt she wore, she turned and was off to the commerce area. Surely there would be someone who would help them.






There were certainly aliens that were willing to help her out, give her ship safe passage on their larger vessels, but once they learned of Ver’On and Sol, they quickly backed out, and without a trader’s mark, there was no recourse that she could take. She’d been searching for three days now, and it seemed that no matter where she went, the aliens that she approached were suddenly too busy to talk.


“Word sure travels fast around here,” she said to the Bendling, as he joined her for a meal. Ver’On was still hard at work, sifting through the station’s recycling centers for the materials he needed to make new hull plating with. Sol, was helping him.


“When you approach them about passage, you don’t tell them right away about Ver’On or Sol, do you?”


“No, but when they find out, I give them assurances that they won’t be harmed. I remember what you told me about their race, and from personal experience, I know they can be dangerous.”


“Exactly. You are from a race they hunt, how can you possibly control them? You have no power over them. You may as well just make them stay in the ship in space. They may get home faster.”


El suddenly brightened up. She reached over and kissed the Bendling on the cheek. “You’re a genius!” And she ran off.
The Bendling sat there, stunned, then swiftly started to wipe his face. ‘I’ve been kissed by an alien!!!!!’ his thoughts echoed frightfully.






“You want us to what?” Sol asked, as he held the new plating in place for Ver’On to secure it.


“We book passage on one of the ships, they don’t trust you, and they won’t take my word that you won’t hurt anyone. They are in complete control of the docking bay on their ship, why not tell them to keep a vacuum around this ship, to ensure their people’s safety. We’ve got supplies on this ship. We’re perfectly capable of surviving long enough to get to your people. Then we just fly out, they take off, and we’re done. Back to the colony ship in time for super.”


“Ver’On, surly you knew this ooman was insane when you met her, why did you keep her?” Ver’On laughed, then began to curse, as the metal he was welding began to disintegrate.


El’s translator didn’t pick up any of the curses. “What’s wrong?”


Sol slid off the hull, pulling the torch tanks with him. “The metal is no good. It will not withstand the heat. Unless we can patch this hole, we won’t be going anywhere, not even to hunt.” Ver’On also slid down, and stalked off around the ship, a cloud of dark thunder all around him, she could almost see it. She moved to follow, but Sol raised his hand. “I wouldn’t. He’s in a mood.”


“He’s frustrated. I’ve seen it before.”


“Not like this. It’s common to his clan.”


“What do you mean?”


“You did not notice? His clan mark and mine are different. Though our clans are close, allies you could say, but still there are differences.”


El looked at the swashed ‘T’ shaped mark on Sol’s forehead, it was different, and yet similar in a way to the double dashed mark of Ver’On’s with the crossword swash of a ‘T’ above the dashes. “I never really thought of hit that way. I thought it was like humans and body piercing and tattoos.”


“No, it is our clan mark. It identifies us to other clans, and gives them an idea of the pride we have of where and who we are from, also what we stand for, and how fiercely we protect what is ours. When you go through ritual, you will get one too.”


‘Ritual,’ she thought, and remembered Ver’On’s promise. She had to find a ship that would help them, and she was off again to the commerce area.






It was another two days, Sol found Ver’On sitting at the con of his ship, sliding a lock of hair back and forth in his fingers, deep in thought. “My apologies,” he said, as Ver’On looked up at him. “I did not mean to disturb you.”


“You did not,” he said, sliding the lock of hair back into his pouch. “I was just coming to a decision.”


“Oh? What is that may I ask?”


“I believe it is time that I trade this old ship. There is little I can do to repair it, there aren’t enough minerals on this entire station to make new hull plating. If we are to rejoin our colony ships, we must get away from here.”


“This ship is very important to you,” Sol stated, not believing his ears. “This must not be an easy decision for you?”


“It is not. Come, I believe the dock master has the identities on file of the ones who wish to trade for this ship.” As he approached the door, he saw a shadow move closer. Before he could see who it was, El flew in the door, wrapping her arms around Ver’On’s muscular neck, lifting her self joyfully into his shocked embrace.


“I DID IT!!!” she shouted. “I DID IT!! I DID IT!! I DID IT!! I DID IT!! I DID IT!! I DID IT!!”


“I’ve little doubt that you did it, but what exactly did you do, My’El,” he asked, pulling the screeching kissing woman off his shoulders. Sol couldn’t help but laugh.


“I got us passage on a freighter!!! They agreed to take us where we need to go, so long as they don’t get molested by your people.”


“WHAT! How did you…!?”


“There’s one condition though. This ship, while onboard theirs, has to remain in a vacuumed environment. We can’t leave it.” Ver’On looked at the ooman, her smile spanning nearly ear to ear. He then looked at Sol, as the male’s jaw, he could only guess because his was doing the same, threatened to reach his knees.


Ver’On picked her up and spun her around. “YOU ARE WONDERFUL!”


“I know. I did it!”


“Wait,” Sol spoke. “What do they want from us, in return for this assistance?”


“Nothing,” she said quietly. Sol and Ver’On turned to her, as she went rooting through her duffle bag. She pulled out her book. The only book she had. “They want this.”


“What is that?”


“My book of favorite recipes from home. Chocolate chip cookies, no bake cherry cheese cake, chicken soup, brownies, they want a copy of it all.”


“You will still have the book will you not?”


“Sure. But their cook wanted to expand the menu. Apparently he tried some of the cookies I made while you were gone. He convinced his captain to help us, so he could make better food for the crew. The captain is all about his stomach.”


“What race are they?” Sol asked.


“Well the cook is of the race that Doc. Rysix is from. But the ship he’s on, the captain is called a Calpe…Calpi…”


“Cal’ip’kior-a?” Ver’On offered.


“Yes, and a fat one.”


“Of course he’d be fat,” Sol stated flatly. “They have eight stomachs. Constant eaters. Not very challenging hunting either. Too fat, too slow, not very cunning.”


“Maybe, but either way…I DID IT!!!” She threw her arms around Sol, then back to Ver’On.


“You did in deed, my mate, you did in deed.”


Within a few hours, Ver’On was piloting his small ship to the waiting cargo vessel outside the asteroid field. It was huge. There was no way the huge carrier was going to maneuver inside the asteroid field. They did however manage to get the ship close enough to the field, to be inside the neutral zone limits. Ver’On was instructed to land on one of the inner landing pads, but when the atmospheric shielding when up, no air was pumped into the area, as agreed, the hunters and the girl were trapped on board.


Automatic docking clamps secured the ship to the deck, and a communications link to the cook was established, so that during the journey, El could dictate the contents of her recipe book to the cook. A few hours later, the ship was underway. A few quick calculations from Sol and Ver’On, and they were able to guestimate where one of their colony ships would be. Those coordinates sent to the navigations officer, and a few more cargo items loaded, and the ship was underway.


Though the ship did have a hyper drive engine, it wasn’t as fast as the one on Ver’On’s ship. Rather than reaching their destination in a matter of hours, the arrived in two days. Though it was better than the six decades they were looking at running at sub light speeds. Ver’On sent a greeting to the colony ship, hoping they were close, then as El finished dictating the last entry to her book to the cook, Ver’On made plans to leave the vessel.


Once off the ship, the cargo carrier sailed away, a message to the Yautja of the area not to engage the ship, since they had helped him. Then Sol and Ver’On began pouring over sensor information. The colony ship had been here, but it was gone by now. The sector was clear, the contrail of the ships engines still strong in the space around them. “How long till we get to them?” El asked, hearing the news.


“Not long,” Sol responded. “A few hours a most. We just have to figure out which way they went.”


“Just follow the fresher of the bread crumbs,” she said.


“What?”


“Which direction is the contrail the strongest. That will tell…”


“I know what the signal strength of the contrail will tell us. But what do bread crumbs have to do with finding our colony ship?”


El sat back down in the back of the ship. “Never mind. It’s just a silly expression.”


“Do your people have many more silly expressions?” Sol asked a bit annoyed.


“Watch your tone Sol,” Ver’On warned easily. “She’s only trying to help.”


“She’s ooman!”


“She’s the ooman who got us this far. Now calm down. I know you’re a bit cramped right now. We all are. We’ll be on the ship soon, and we can get out, and stretch. You’ll see.”


Sol lowered his head. “My apologies, I hate these long trips.”


El came up and patted his shoulder. “Would you like to learn more of humans while we wait?” But the wait wasn’t that long. A flashing light and a constant beeping sound alerted Ver’On to something outside.


“Got them. They’re in the next sector. We’ll be there in a couple hours.” He set the course sending the ship on its way, turning the seat around and taking El onto his lap. “Why don’t you go lie down, Sol. I believe I have a promise to keep to my mate.”


“What is that?” he asked, as he made his way to the bedding form. They had slept in shifts, even El slept alone, so that neither male would feel that one was getting more attention than the other. Though Ver’On, by rights, should have her attention all to himself, he felt it necessary to keep separate during this trip. No need to add sexual tension to the mix of hormones already flying around the ship.


Ver’On looked after the young male, as he lay down. “I made a deal, and I will honor it. Traders’ mark or not.”