The Ripple of a Stone

The Ripple of a Stone

Past Ghosts'

Authors Note: This story I have written may not be exact with the customs and culture founded by the Predator movies, comics or stories but I have tired to stay in the area of their beliefs and ways. I have brought in elements from each of the categories and have combined them into one. I do not own Predator. Updates will be regular and changes will be made if any suggestions are made for me. Pronunciations at bottom. Some of the mentioned items in the Yautja world are made up by me. Good Reading.

CAUTION! This chapter contains rape and very violent graphic images including child murder, torture and depraved acts I hope never truly happen, ever. (I bet you are thinking Nalani gets raped…hehehe.) So BE CAREFUL!

E.M.

“” “” “” “”

At first everyone thought Nalani had gone into hiding again, Sya not seeing her eyes for a few days. News of her and Dhm'Ni patching things up was a great thing for him to hear, but at the same time he worries for them. Sya knows what can come from great friendship, but for now he will only observe, not speak. But after days of not knowing if she was alive, Sya had found her in a small unused room on a lower deck where she had been forming the large tree she and Ojhm had brought in on the hunt before Dhyot’te’ka died. She seemed so adamant to finish that Sya had simply left her there to her task. However, when a fully healed male with skin that changes asked where she was, Sya was more then a little apprehensive to tell, but knowing the ‘Changer’, he pointed him in the right direction.

Nala on the other hand has spent hours in the large room alone, not allowing even Dhm'Ni in to see what she is creating. She had in fact forgotten about the poor tree that had been knocked down when they landed, only when Ojhm reminded her did she remember what she wanted to do. She had to go to Kaine, the Awu’asa maker, to get the right tools, even getting some made to properly shape the wood. More then once over the past few days Nala has simply slept on the floor of the giant room, Dhm'Ni having a very big problem with that, but she needs to get this done. It is as if she needs to finish her work for her late friend, “Dhyot’te’ka” is going to be the name of her masterpiece in the making. It is traditional to name what she is making after the person who either made it or rode it, but dedication is alright too. So as she scrapes thin layers off the rounding wood, a mask on to keep the shavings out of her lungs, Nalas focus was taken from her when she feels a strange change in the air, a draft tickling her skin. She turns around swiftly to find her white and red friend standing there, a hand over his mouth and strange look on his face. She throws him a large cloth to help him keep the wood dust out of his lungs, him quick to thank her and place it over his mouth.

“What are you doing?” He asks as he slowly goes to the center of the room where her huge tree sits horizontality atop two equally large stools.

“You have healed nicely.” She says, disregarding his question. The ‘Changer’ simply grunts at her, looking away as if to say she had no part in helping, Nala doesn’t care. “What can I do for you…You have never given me your name.” She stands tall, dust falling from her cloths and skin to flutter to the ground.

“You have not asked for my name.” He huffs slightly.

“Well, I guess I have to ask for it now!” Nala laughs. “And your name is?”

“Aja, thirteenth son of Kin’Jaha and student of Sya, cycle one-sixty nine-seven.”

“Well now…That is a very long name, Aja, thirteenth son of Kin’Jaha and student of Sya, cycle one-sixty nine-seven.” She sticks out her tongue.

“You are very childish.” Aja growls as if scolding her.

“I am only nine and a half seasons old.” Nala states, him laughing deeply at the information.

“Then I shall call you Oma, in Yautja it is the word for nine.” He smiles at her with his odd eyes.

“Nala is short for Nalani, just call me that.” She giggles when Aja simply sticks out his tongue, which soon goes right back in at tasting the wood in the air.

“Fine, Nala it is. What are you doing?” Aja asks.

“I…” Nala stalls, not wanting to tell. “I am making a surfboard.” She gives in.

“What is that?” He asks, intrigued.

“Where I grew up, waves on the water grew taller then you. White tops were what everyone wanted. A surfboard is a piece of wood shaped to glide over the water. I am making one called a ‘Classic Hobie’, but I am naming it Dhyot’te’ka after my friend. I hope to surf on the waters on your home planet.” She smiles beneath her mask.

“That,”

“Is not recommended.” Nala says first with a laugh. “Dhm'Ni told me that there are great beasts in your waters, I know.” For more then a moment, the two remain quiet, simply string at one another for someone to move first. To say that Aja is remarkable would be like saying the sun was simply bright. You forget just how eccentric and extraordinary it is, but as you sit in the sun, you have to notice and acknowledge its strength and power. Just as Nala feels about Aja at this moment. After her mind snaps out of its daze, she walks over to the pile of tools and gets one for him, tossing it gently. Without talking, Nala shows him how to help.

“” “” “” “” “”

Sya can’t help but see a change in Nala for the good, her social habits going back to normal. Every now and then he would see her in the galley eating with old friends while the next day she would be sitting alone with the world around her not wanting to talk with her. At those times he would sit with her and they would whisper in their secret language of French, the world disappearing. But Nala has taken a strong liking to the new training room, a few males watching and copying her. Sya has even joined in on more than a few sessions with Nala teaching Aja how to meditate Ooman style, both of them having a hard time doing it. But on bad days, Nala is not a female to be around. And today is one of those days. It is a routine thing now for everyone she calls friends to meet for the morning meal, but when she is having a bad day, the stench of her frustration would make them all go quiet and actually quite peaceful. Thr’ik had decided to lighten her mood and it worked a little, him giving her a giant Yautja hug and a tickle of her ear with one of him mandibles. But nothing it seems can make her happy today, so they eat in silence until Nala leaves to train.

Little does Nala know as she go through strengthening moves alone, in the corner is Dyne, his mind thinking of a number of things he wishes he could do. But with the training deck as full as it is, he can not do it unnoticed. A painful grunt makes him look over to a fight going on between two unimportant hunters, his only given task to do for the day is to watch her. After a few more hours, he is just about to leave when Nala makes a startling discovery.

“Get back here!” She yells, Dyne thinking she has caught him watching her. But to his thankful shock, Nala is running after a lowly male as he attempts to escape her. It takes a moment before he remembers why, but that is the same male that had licked her the day of her judgment. Throwing the staff in her hand, it hits the male in the back of the knees, causing him to go sprawling on the floor, Nala quickly standing over his body with a foot set gently on his throat. “And your name is?” She hisses through her teeth. But when he doesn’t answer, Nala pulls his relatively small body into one of the unoccupied squares to fight him. “If I need to ask it again I will rip off one mandible, making it hard for you to answer the next time.” She warns, but still he does not give her a response. As the small male stands, she challenges him rightly and smiles wide as he accepts. Before he can move, Nala slips out a small knife from her back and slices it through the air, his bottom right mandible falling to the ground. Roaring in pain, he doubles over and grabs hold of his bleeding face, everyone now around them to watch.

“I thought you were going to inform me of what you have seen?” Dyne flinches at hearing a low growl behind him, making him turn quickly. But as Det, Dhm’Ni’s older brother, approaches from the shadows, he relaxes, just a little bit.

“She has not done anything to merit news.” He says, getting back to the fight.

“She brings up such good memories, doesn’t she?” Det laughs darkly.

Flash Back…

He can’t figure out what that stench is. It smells of a mixture between rotting bones and flesh. Det loves that scent when he is home, although it is much different and much better. But as he stands atop one of the ugly buildings covered in steel and glass, his feet keep making an awkward ‘clunk’ with every step. Even being as careful as he has been trained, nothing quiets the stomps. With his mask on, Det still can’t find where that disgusting odor is coming from. It could be the way Oomans don’t bathe as they should, or how they live day in and day out in the filth they litter their world with, or both. He can tell by the full moon high in the black sky that he was hunting his prey in the middle of the night, the best time for his taste in Oomans.

“I don’t understand why we had to come to a heavily populated area for this.” Hutr hisses as he and the two other waiting hunters watch Det look around the Ooman planet.

“Because we have to find what we are looking for.” He hisses back, but with a deeper sense of anger and evil.

“You still see nothing?” Dyne runs to their leaders’ side, trying to be Dets right hand man. Meanwhile Hutr and Setif cross their arms over their chest, annoyed with Dyne and his actions for always being on the first born son of the Ehre Clan‘s good side.

“We are in the wrong area, we need to find the family dwellings, we seem to be where come together, an outside Society room.” It takes little time for the four Yautja to travel east to a residential area, there are so many houses to choose from that they decided to split up. Det wants to make sure his choice is perfect, spending more than enough time going around and around, looking at all the possibilities. And in the end he decides on one with two adult Oomans, one male, one female, and a male pup no larger than his palm. He can see the two adults sleeping in the same bed, him wondering with a hint of disgust why Oomans would share a bed for anything other than constant mating. But that doesn’t matter. What matters now is he has found his prey and from the tingling feeling in both his groin and muscles, he needs to do this right now.

Det jumps down to the wooden structure that sits at the back of the house rather noisily, but it is all in his plan. And just as he expected, the male of the household turns on lights and looks out each window, at one point they are no more than a foot apart, clear glass the only thing between them. He barely holds down a laugh when the Ooman looks directly at him, his cloak hiding him well. He has to admit that he is good at finding his prey, this male is tall and well built for an Ooman, his bone structure is sound and muscles developed well. But he also notices that this males skin is the color of frozen water that has fallen from the sky, his hair redder then Ooman blood and upper body, which is unclothed, covered in small brown dots. Det manically follows the spotted Ooman around, the walls of the house always keeping him safe, for now. Just when the male turns to leave, Det taps on the glass with his sharp nails, just enough to make it so the Ooman knows it is not a naturally occurring sound, and of course he turns to the noise.

‘Yes, that’s it little Ooman, this way…’ He thinks with a smirk. The male walks back to the door and before he moves again, Det smashes his hand through the glass, grabbing the Oomans head. Screaming loudly, he starts to struggle back, kicking and punching the air, Det only laughing. Moving fast, he grabs a bundle of hanging line and ties the males’ legs and hands, soon letting him fall to the ground with a hard ‘thud’. Turning off his cloak, he stands there as if nothing is wrong, looking around as someone would if they were looking to buy a new piece of armor.

“JUILIE! Julie run! GET BEN AND RUN!” The male roars, his mouth uncovered.

“Quiet Ooman.” Det says in their tongue, calmly and collected. Soon the female comes from their room, her gasping and then screaming loudly. She is just like the male, skin pale and covered in little brown dots, hair as red as the morning Ooman sky and body trim. Perfect.

“RUN!” The male says again.

“TOM! What is that?” She screams and starts heading for the room where their pup sleeps. Det is too fast, dragging the male with him as he grabs the female by the arm, lifting her into the air. He walks coolly into their room, throwing her onto the bed so hard that the air is knocked from her lungs. But as she tries to breathe, Det smashes a hole in the roof of their room to reveal a wooden beam, him quick to tie the male upside down, swinging from it.

“You son of a bitch! Get out of my house!” The male yells, struggling with his bindings. Det just sighs, they all say that. Just to silence the Ooman, he punches the male in the jaw, cracking it so harshly that his little teeth fling to the other side of the room, bones stick out of his jaw and blood goes splattering.

“Quiet.” He says again, his attention is soon onto the female, her tied and bound in a matter of seconds. Det stands tall, the top of his head hitting the ceiling slightly, and exhales noisily, just so they hear.

“Please…” The female quivers. “Please don’t so this! We have a new baby! PLEASE! SHOW MERCY!”

“M-di H'chak” Det hisses. “No mercy.” Turning abruptly, he leaves the room for no more than ten seconds, returning with the baby in his hand. Still sleeping soundly, the pup covered in a soft blue material doesn’t even fuss at being held. “A new baby, hm?” He asks, both the male and female quiet and stunned. “No more baby.” Without warning, Det twists the infants’ head, the cracking of his bones telling his parents that his death was absolute.

“B…Be…Ben?” The female stutters, and soon screams so loudly that Det rears his head back a little when he tosses the lifeless body against a wall.

“ENOUGH!” He roars, the windows in the room shaking. The hanging meat starts to struggle again, blood spewing from his mouth as he attempts to speak. Det simply kneels down beside him and smiles at him behind his mask, the males always fight. “I want you to watch me take your mate…” He ruffs out. “I want you to watch me take her and then kill her.” The male begins to violently thrash about, his broken mouth giving way to only muffled screams. “I am sure you will like it just as I will.” Standing up, Det unhooks his metal loincloth, letting his engorged member stand tall in front of the male, the female starts screaming again, just the way he likes it. Approaching the bed, she turns onto her stomach to try and get away, but this is just how he wants her. Det climbs onto the bed, grabs her bound legs and pulls her back into him, lifting her hips up and rips a hole in her sleepwear, him soon slamming into her core without preparation. The scream that comes from her throat is one he has never heard, one that he adores more than anything and one that he will never forget. The blood that begins to seep out of her saturates the air so profusely that Det begins to hyperventilate, the scent intoxicating as he begins horribly deep thrusts, getting all of his punishing length inside her withering body. Grabbing a knife from his thigh, Det sets the sharp blade at the base of her neck and begins to put pressure on it until it punctures, and then deeper. The female suddenly goes quiet, this being the shock faze of all the pain, but it will soon end.

“…ulia…no…” The male starts to cry as the blood begins to pour, Dets’ knife tracing her spin perfectly. And just at the sweet spot, the forth lumbar down, he hits that wondrous nerve and her body begins to tremble dreadfully, this act, along with her horrific screams, cause Det to go over the edge, his body emptying everything inside of her. Continuing his knife, it slices the nerve and she falls down dead. He pulls himself from her body and simply wipes the blood and whatnot on the sheets of their tiny bed. After reattaching what he removed for clothing, Det slices the hanging males’ throat and unties him, leaving him in a pile on the floor.

The sirens start just as he gets to the roof of a close home, sitting on top happy and satisfied. When he listens to the gasps and screams of the authority, he leaves joyful, waiting and anticipating his friends’ stories of their prey. And he will most definitely take pleasure in telling the story of the fair skinned, red haired female and her screams.

End Flash back…

“Many good memories indeed.” Det laughs lightly. He grasps Dyne by the shoulder, tugging it slightly to offer thanks for his job and leaves without another word.

“” “” “” “”

“Well that was mildly entertaining…” Aja barks after he and the rest of the Yautja on the training deck watched Nala slice that young male, leaving him with two mandibles, one hand and half his right thigh gone.

“He licked me!” Nala yells angry, getting a few laughs from the crowd. After cleaning up her hands, covered in green blood, she simply leaves the male to be picked up by the healers, her making sure they were called.

“How much do you have left to do on your surfboard?” Aja asks, following her to the wall of weapons.

“I just need to get Kaine to finish it with coats of sealant and it is done.” She answers and grabs four training sticks of thick wood, handing a pair to Aja. “What shall we spar for? Let’s say…loser has to wear a pink loincloth!” She laughs with a giant smile.

“It’s a deal.” He bows his head and they get into their square. “Are you still sure of the name for your surfboard?” He asks and then lunges forwards, slamming his staff on her left shin. Nala jumps away, having to balance on one foot for a moment as her muscle spasms.

“I knew my boards name before I knew I was going to make it!” She huffs, the pain of his shot harsh.

“Do you miss him?” He asks suddenly, his voice stoic and rather cold.

“Of course I do.” Nala says before charging towards him and jumping upwards, her sticks landing destructive blows to his shoulders. Aja roars in surprise and merely stumbles backwards. But as he tries to lift his arms to fight back, they remain hanging limp. “Uh oh…having trouble moving Aja?” She giggles and starts a playful but painful barrage of hits, from his toes all the way to his forehead, he was not safe. But as his mobility comes back, Aja begins to fight back. Blocking her hits, dodging her strikes, but never doing any of his own.

“Did you know Dhyot’te’ka and I were old friends?” He says calmly as he grabs her arm only to throw her to the ground behind him.

“Oh yeah?” She asks, getting to her feet. “And just how well did you…” Nala pauses in utter shock when she turns around to see Dhyot’te’ka, or rather Aja with his skin a different color. What was once a mixture of a pearl white and a red as deep as her blood, is now colored like chocolate with tiny white spots, a reverse Dalmatian, just like her late chocolate friend.

“Do you not want to see him again?” Aja asks, his head tilting to one side.

“Stop it.” Nala orders. “Now, stop it.”

“Why? What does this body do to you?” He takes small steps towards her, a little confused about why she would act so oddly to seeing her friend again. “Why does it pain you to see him again?”

“You are not him!” Nala yells, pointing her weapon right towards his face. “Stop it now Aja! I am warning you.” That statement just making him laugh.

“You warning me? You wouldn’t be able to do much damage to me Nalani, I have not shown all of my talents.”

“Nor have I. STOP IT!” She screams now, her anger boiling over. It is only when Ajas noise picks up the thickest scent of rage and sadness does he realize what he has done. Oomans must be very visual and seeing Dhyot’te’ka, even if just his skin, must dredge up too many bad memories. But far be it for Aja to back down after her starts something.

“Dhyot’te’ka died honorably while hunting.”

“I know that! I know that he is gone, and I know that he won’t come back but then here you are looking just like him and it’s not right. Stop it now, or else.” She falls into a low stance and readies her training sticks, wanting nothing more at this moment to shove them where the light doesn’t shine.

“Oh that is right, I had forgotten then you were not allowed to be involved with his ceremony. Pity.” Suddenly Nala charges, catching Aja off guard. She jabs him in the sides, his muscles contracting uncontrollably, and very painfully. But only hissing, Aja stars his own attacks, trying half heartedly to cause pain, but certainly trying to defend himself. With every right punch, there was a right step. With every swing, there was a sway. For too long Nala and Aja didn’t hit one another, both not trying as hard as they should. But at the end of her patience, Nala gets her way behind Aja, jumps on his back and begins to choke him, her small arm perfectly fitting around his neck. However, he could have easily taken her off, but he would have had to scratch her arms or impale her in some fashion, and he knows Nala needs no more scars. Slowly though, as his air supply disappears, he rethinks his thinking too late before his vision blurs. Nala increases her pressure at this point, and in a matter of moments the beautiful skin of her chocolate friend is replaced with the normalcy of Ajas pearl and red. Knees buckling, they both fall to one side as Aja can no longer hold himself, or her, up. So with her grasp finally off, he takes giant gulps of air to breathe again, his lungs never being to thankful.

“The next time I warn you, take that warning to heart.” Nala hisses lowly and then leaves without giving Aja time to catch his breath and to speak back.

“” “” “” “”

“Up, up, up!” Sya barges into Nalas and Dhm’Nis room without invitation, catching them still in bed early one morning. He had thought he would catch them arm in arm, but his worries for their closeness is laughed upon at seeing Nala sleeping with her head where her toes should be, and her toes where her head should be, and with one of her feet resting on Dhm’Nis’ giant forehead.

“No up, up, up. Go away.” She murmurs, hiding herself under the thick covers.

“What can we do you for?” Dhm’Ni yawns, stretching his long body, throwing the foot in his face away to one side.

“Training.” Sya says and walks to get her cloths ready, soon tossing them on top of her.

“Training for what?” Nala finally asks, a giant hint of distain hidden in there.

“Shoulder cannon.” Instantly both the two bodies in bed are up, one wanting to shoot a weapon, another wanting to see it happen. It doesn’t take long for everyone to ready and get into a special training room, Nala equipped with a strange and very heavy shoulder piece that takes some time to get used too. But Sya assures her that when her piece is made, it will be much lighter and fit better, so she goes along with it.

“I don’t understand why you have to be here.” Nala quips to Dhm’Ni.

“I want to see how far you go.” He laughs, leaning against one of the walls.

“Enough playing.” Sya huffs, both going quiet. “Stand in the middle, get into a low stance, aim at the target and fire.”

“And just how to I fire?” Nala asks as she gets into position.

“It’s all in the works of your mask.” Nodding only, she lowers her stance even more so and aims at the small red dot at the end of a long shooting hall. But when her small shoulder cannon goes off, she does down. She doesn’t fly, as Dhm’Ni had wanted to see, but she does fall straight back, her bum a nice pillow.

“I had hoped you would hit the wall.” Dhm’Ni says grudgingly. “But I guess when you get to the larger calibers, you will.” After a small laugh, Sya sends him out with a harsh warning not to come back, unless he wants to end up hitting a wall.

However, when Nala comes back home that night and he sees her busies on her back and shoulder, he knows she had hit the walls, and the ground and maybe even Sya, so he didn’t say anything. He did the best thing by applying the healing gel to her back. After the sting of healing went away, Dhm’Ni went to bathe. Thinking she was still awake, he began talking to her as he was drying off. But as he walks out, ready for sleep, he finds her in bed, sleeping. With a smirk, he slides in next to her and just as he is going to place his head on her stomach, he looks at her neck, the long scar practically glowing. His mandibles twitch in nervousness as he shifts on the bed so he is up on an elbow, leaning over her torso. With the free hand, he swipes away her hair to touch her jaw, tracing it to her chin. And then lower, his fingers just barely above her extremely sensitive scar. Dhm’Ni doesn’t know why, but he just wants to touch it, it being the most, well almost the most sensitive part of her body. The very most sensitive is a place he can never touch, right?

He just wants to see her, he just wants to know the feeling of really touching her. Taking a dive, Dhm’Ni strokes her scar. And the reaction he gets makes something in his gut stir into craziness. Nala moans loud and strong, arching her back into his touch. Instantly he feels himself growing beneath the covers, that wonderful pressure of his hardness touching her thigh making his breath catch. Her face turns into a deep rose, her body heating up as his fingers caress her scar. While it should be hurting, the pain unbearable, Dhm’Ni can see that his touching it is giving her pleasure. Moving his hand down, he grasps the blanket and starts to pull it away, soon revealing all of her wondrous curves. Watching her breasts move with each intake of air, Dhm’Ni finds himself breathing with her, both moving together as one. Suddenly and without warning, he is hit with her arousal, her scent so sweet and pungent that he is instantly off the bed and running into the bathroom. Dhm’Ni rips off his sleeping trunks and starts the bath, the sound hiding his groans and the water to be used to clean the mess after he is done. He strokes himself hard and long at first, slowly moving his hand up and down his shaft, tip to base. Dhm’Ni steps into the water when it is high enough and lays down so only his mouth and mandibles are out, everything else under. It is only now that he lets his sexual musk seep out of his body, the oils mixing with the water, hiding it well. Going faster, Dhm’Nis hips begin to move with each stroke, lifting them up high, humping the water. For a split moment, Dhm’Ni imagines that Nala is on top of him, and that it is her sex that is stroking him, not his hand. And at her, his muscles contract blissfully and he releases his sexual frustration into the water.

“” “” “” “”

“And to think we told Nalani her ordeal was over.” The Patriarch sighs, a hand over his eyes. The gathering room is filled with every manner of life, from the Elders and Arbitrators to Dhm’Ni and Nala. All are standing silent awaiting news from the Homeworld, an urgent message being sent and received last night. To her left, Sya takes a quick look at Nalas new Awu’asa piece, the shoulder harness perfect her for. Training for the different levels of powers for shoulder cannons had gone slow, not only had Nala suffered broken bones and the like, but she had become frustrated with herself at not being able to use the more powerful of cannons. At one point in the sessions, Aja had come by, Sya knowing what had happened and so allowed them to talk, everything smoothing over, he thinks. He had not paid attention, giving them their privacy, privacy being something he thinks that Nala needs to have with other males.

“Who sent the message?” Elder Opli asks with a deep rumble, his voice harsh and rough.

“It came from the Matriarch herself. Zanjui has been in constant meetings with her public and they are not happy. Not only are those in the Ehre Clan questioning her and I, but they are no longer sure of their Elders and Clan Leader.” Ras’Lech looks around the room, all of the people starting at him emotionless and waiting for the rest of his words. “The females are up in arms, saying that Nalani, being female, should have only been granted into our world by the Matriarchs words, not mine.” He growls, trying to hide his anger with the Matriarch, though failing. “She has organized a gathering when we arrive to the Homeworld.”

“What kind of gathering?” Nala asks a little frightened.

“It will not be as…destructive as our first meeting, but something like it.” The Patriarch answers. “More than a few Clans wish to meet with you, more than a few Yautja want to challenge you. But most of all, the Matriarch wants to have a personal meeting with you. The word ‘misjudged’ came up a lot in her message.”

“I do not understand,” Lord Khupiee starts. “She has been welcomed, she cannot be unwelcomed. The laws state that when someone is received into a Clan, and is accepted by the ruling Clan Elders, Leader and either, EITHER, the Patriarch or Matriarch, they cannot be questioned again.”

“Zanjui is not questioning her acceptance, but her ability…as a female.” Ras’Lech suddenly feels like looking away from Nala, his awkwardness in telling her this news rather…awkward.

“I don’t know what she wants to know…” Nala seemingly more confused than ever. “I’m not a virgin if that is what she wants to know!” She nearly yells, all of the others laughing.

“Females are graded more harshly than males.” Sya begins to teach. “They have their own standards and criteria for what a female should be, should achieve and should represent. The females are…” He is lost for words.

“Above us all.” The Patriarch tells. “If you think your trials here were hard, the Matriarch will make them three times as hard just to make sure you know the females are better. She will make it so if you fail her tests, you will be stripped of your rights as a female.”

“Which means you will not be able to reach a certain level in your life, becoming an Honored Hunter may never happen.” An Elder adds in.

“I may not live long enough to get out of being a Young Blood, and I understand that. But what right does she have to strip me of my rights?” She asks gently so not to seem disrespectful.

“Matriarch Zanjui is monarch of the females and of the Unblooded. She can forbid a Yautja from going through their chiva and so never being blooded. Or in the case of a female, she can ban her from ever mating, reproducing and even fighting because she has nothing to prove, and if she fights she may cause death or injury to a female that has her rights.” Ras’Lech leans back on his chair, his frustration and anger of this news evident to everyone.

“I will do whatever she wants.” Nala says strongly, stunning them all.

“But she can take away everything.” Say claims in shock.

“If she meets me, and she takes my rights then she does. I am sure I will be of good use in either way. Everyone needs a funny little Ooman girl in the corner making quips and jokes. And if she takes away my right to mate, someone please tell Dyne very strongly of that fact.” She smiles as they chuckle with her, although Elder Ukinda, Dyne’s father, glares. “But if she wants to meet me, then she will. She is the Matriarch, I have no choice.” When everyone in the room silently nods, Nala knows she said the right things and leaves with Sya in tow.

“” “” “” “”

It turns out that the Homeworld was closer then thought, taking less than one hundred days to get there. In that time, Nala has trained with anyone and everyone who would, her wanting to know more and become stronger and more appealing to the Matriarch. She has continued her lessons also, though she had lessons on being female. The rules to Monopoly are easier to understand, at least she knows what the little red houses are for. And so with everyday came a new rule and hours and hours of explaining why it was a law. They had even spent days debating on how females have dominated the males in the past, and how they are still doing it but rather silently. In the end Sya and Nala decided to simply not talk of it any more, there was too much to discus. One thing she had to concentrate on was how to distinguish the different females. First of all, virginal females must wear a headdress that, if it were not for the muscle in their necks, would break their heads off. It is meant to beef up their neck and shoulders until a male she found appealing would be in the same mindset for her. After the deed is done, the newly completed female would take off the headdress and put on a set of armor quite like a Blooded hunters Awu’asa, though must less practical. This is meant to show their availability. Once the female has found the right male and becomes pregnant, everything but the stomach guard stays the same. A large piece of metal is placed over the pregnant belly from the very day of the news, the metal being engraved with the name of the mother, father, clan and sometimes the name of the pup. But more important it also displays the honor the mother and father have gotten for themselves so their pup is respected as their best undertaking. If a female is past the age of conception, she becomes a teacher and once again, as like Sya who trains Unbloods for their tests, their bodies are permanently marked to show their status.

He had taught her everything he could until the day they arrived, that being an ordeal in itself. They had actually docked in the middle of the night, startling Nala awake.

“We’re here!” She exclaims, literally running over Dhm’Ni to get dressed, him grunting as her foot hits his gut.

“No we are not.” He growls, rubbing his stomach.

“But we are docked.” She asks as she runs into the bathroom, the light hurting both their eyes.

“We are on the docking globe.” He laughs at her. “Follow me.” He says and leads her, after dressing appropriately, to their favorite room on the tenth deck, the observation deck. With his coat around them, they sit together and gaze at the Yautja Homeworld, the giant planet seen from the window, Dhm’Ni as awed as she. “Our world is bathed under two suns, representations for…Oh I cannot tell you.” Dhm’Ni smiling when Nala punches him. “But not only that, but there was seven moons.”

“Was?”

“A long time ago we destroyed all of the moons and replaced them with ones built of metal. Cities orbiting our world. Do you see those two, over there?” He points next to the giant green and blue glowing planet to two small orbs that look no larger than her eyes. “Those are the Hunters worlds, where Blooded Hunters go to eat and sleep and tell stories. There are three hidden behind, one is the gathering globe, where everyone must go when they arrive back home to check in. The other two are the females’ worlds. No males are allowed on them, ever. In the past two hundred seasons, only one male has set foot on there and lived to tell about it. My father just had to get my mother.” He smiles. “This one is for docking, where every ship must go before the occupants leave to where ever. And then there is the society one, that is my favorite.”

“Well of course.” Nala laughs.

“Thr’ik and I have had many headaches from that ball.” He reminisces. “And the big clump of rock in front of us is where we began. You see, for too long we used our world, using everything it had until we saw that we were killing it. So we had to decide between two options, using it and that’s it, or moving. But no one wanted to move, so the Matriarch at that time said that we can still stay in the area of our world, but not on it.”

“So you basically hollowed out the moons and used them to live in?” Nala asks, the story making her mind real. ‘I guess the Yautja were not always perfect.’ She laughs silently to herself.

“We did indeed. It took about a hundred seasons for everything to be completed, and about twice that for our world to heal again. Now we only use it for traditions and recreation.”

“Like a vacation?” She asks, suddenly wanting to go down and surf on their waters really bad.

“We will go down when it is time for you to read The Story of Creation. The book is held there and only there, it is not allowed to leave the planets surface. And then you can play as you want too.” He laughs.

After Dhm’Ni tells a few more stories about him, Thr’ik and alcoholic drinks, they decided to dress and head for the galley, their stomachs wanting to be filled even though it is the middle of the night. They stay until morning, until everyone else came in and sat down with them. All anyone could talk about was what was going to happen when they exit the ship. Usually they would simply leave when it was safe, the cold of space making their outer haul so cold they could die, and that would be it. But with Nala, they are being welcomed by nearly everyone that is on the docking globe, so they need to make it a nice show. Everyone was told to wear their ceremonial Awa’asa, Nala extremely excited to wear hers, the white metal armor with depictions of her defeating the Queen all over it, her mask even shaped to look like the Queens face. In the middle of the meal however, the Patriarch and Elders enter, everyone else standing up and going quiet to show respect.

“Nalani.” Ras’Lech bellows, motioning for her to sit with them, and of course she does. She walks to their table like a child would after they had been caught stealing cookies, her feet dragging a little and head down. As she sits, Nala doesn’t look at anyone, staring at her drink in hand.

“In a few hours everyone will exit the ship. First The Patriarch and Lord Khupiee, followed by the Elders and then you. You will stand alone in your Awu’asa and look forwards at all times, no matter what. Even if someone speaks to you, look forwards and answer quickly and sharply. If a weapon may come at you, dodge it, hit it away, even let it hit you, just never let your sight stager.” An Elder advises, her thanking him deeply.

“If I may ask, who will be there?” Nala asks softly.

“Strangely enough, everyone but the Matriarch. She wants to meet privately after you are together and ready.” Another tells. After that, Nala sits there in silence, eating a small dish of lavender colored meat as the other engage in what she understand to be important business, but she stays because she was not excused. When the meal is finished, the Patriarch allows her to leave with a small nod, but by that time all of her friends had already gone.

Sya and Dhm’Ni are waiting for her when she gets to their room, both a little bothered that she has less time to get ready. Her ceremonial Awu’asa had been delivered to her room and was standing, in all its wondrous glory, in the middle of the room. And just as before, she walks up to it smelling the Queen, Nala barely able to keep down a growl of anger. It takes more time than she ever guessed to get it on, and when she thought she was done, she finds a small flexible piece of metal on the ground. She walks out to the main room, both Sya and Dhm’Ni shocked at her extraordinary but different beauty, and lifts up the metal, them bursting into a laugh. Sya slowly stand and bends down to her, whispering into Nalas ear that it is her codpiece.

“Thought I felt a breeze.” She giggles and goes to put it on.

“” “” “” “”

Looking around, Nala feels uncomfortably small and weak. Even with her armor on, she feels unprotected and open to attack. With the Elders and everyone in front of her, and everyone else behind her, she stands alone among them. It has been two hours of silence since they all got into position, waiting for the doors to the giant reception room to open. Behind those deep blue doors are more Yautja then Nala has ever seen, but she is not afraid. All over her body she has her weapons, some hidden in places she never thought she would hide them. Her hair, done up into a ball of curls and buns, has more than five different knives and weapons hidden in it, at least it looks pretty. For some reason, Nala has been excited to look good lately, looking female. It is not that she wants to look good for someone, but she likes feeling put together and up to date with what is seen as beautiful, and that is getting her hair bound. Today she has to get that done before she meets the Matriarch, she needs to be ‘together and ready’ in every way. But what makes her a little, just a little nervous is that fact that females do the hair, meaning she has to meet some females.

As the doors begin to open, Nala looks straight ahead and tightens her body, her head held high and body strong. The banging and scraping of them moving is rather ominous, the ever increasing line of light that is coming through the opening makes Nala think of the rest of her life, this beam of light metaphorically her opening to everything. The giant ‘thud’ of it opening completely startles her, but not so much that she wavers in her stance. The group in front starts moving, Nala following into the largest room she has ever been in. Without moving her eyes, she can see waves and waves of Yautja, if it were not for the colored walls behind them, she would have guessed they went on endlessly. They are all moving to one side or another to catch a glimpse of her, a few mumbling softly to those around them. The group walks down too many stairs slowly, the Patriarch at the front of course. It takes Nala a few steps to get used to how large they are, her body almost falling a little with each one. But she doesn’t want to look like she is struggling so she makes the best of it and moves her body in a better fashion. Once everyone is on the main floor, they pause. Nala wants desperately to look around at all the new faces, but she was told not to so she won’t. While she can’t see them, she can sure as heck smell them all. She can feel their breaths on her exposed skin, she can hear their cloths moving as they lungs expand. But no matter what, Nala looks forwards and keeps her heart rate low and steady.

With no words ever exchanged, the Patriarch leads the large group away from the welcoming committee until they are in a completely different part of the docking ship. The metal floors and walls change into a marvelously decorated room of red, black and white, looking exactly like the purple society room with pillows and group pits that are in the ground. It is only now that everyone separates into their own little groups, Nala not moving. Her chest suddenly hurts at the thought that no one has invited her to sit with them.

‘Come sit with me…’ A soundless voice rings in her ear, Nala suddenly feeling a supple ghost hand on her back and the soft scent of chocolate in her nose. Oh, how she wishes that could happen again, to have Dhyot’te’ka here once more so they can sit and talk. But no. Here she stands alone with the world moving around her, the Yautja she has spent so much time with over the past days merely walking away as if they do not know her. The pressure on her chest becomes so great that it threatens to make her cry, Nala feeling so upset and alone.

“You must be Nalani.” A strangely feminine voice says to her right, Nala turning her head slowly. Standing no more than ten feet from her and eight large females, all more imposing then anyone she has ever seen.

“This is Nalani, yes.” Sya says as he and a few others approach.

“I am Atel’a.” The one at the front bows her head to Sya. “I am the one who was instructed to deliver the female to the dressers.”

“She will not go alone.” Dhm’Ni and Thr’ik go to her sides.

“You may escort her there, but no males inside.” Atel’a demands strongly, but pleasantly.

“We accept that.” Sya tells, the females turning and walking towards a door Nala never saw there before. Together, she, Sya, Dhm’Ni, Thr’ik and Lord Khupiee walk behind them, Nala staying close to her mentor. In silence, they go through too many halls to remember, up and down so many lifts. All until finally they see a group of Yautja standing in front of a red door, Nala knowing instantly that these are the females she is going to get to know. Sya pokes her gently in her side, telling her wordlessly to take off her mask and after placing it on her side, Nala walks forwards and bows her head in greeting. At the front is a female that is more than striking, her skin the color of a forest, greens and browns mashing together. Her height is more than a head and shoulder above hers, but she is used to Yautja being taller, just not females being taller. Rather menacingly, the group walks up to them, but the forest is not looking at Nala, she is looking at Dhm’Ni.

“Who is this?” She asks him, this making Nala look up to Dhm’Ni. His face is showing is awe, his blue ringed eyes telling anyone who looks that he feels a level of lust for the leading female.

“This is…This is…” He stutters.

“I guess I am forgettable.” Nala sighs and looks away.

“This is Nalani, she is here to receive your acclaimed dress work.” Sya says to boost the females’ ego.

“This way.” The forest says, walking backwards staring at Dhm’Ni before finally turn away to lead Nala inside the room. The doors open to let only one body in at a time. And when Nala goes though, she doesn’t even look behind her.

“’ This is…This is…’” Thr’ik punches Dhm’Ni in the gut, but not too hard. “Nice going.” He shakes his head and exits with the rest, leaving Dhm’Ni to stand there and realize what he just did.

“” “” “” “”

“You don’t look female.” The forest says once they are behind closed doors.

“To you I may not, but I am Ooman, of course we are different. Aw hell, even to Ooman men I do not look female so yeah, you are right.” Nala laughs, but gaining no other laughs from the females.

“I am Tegon, I am the top dresser for the Ehre Clan. And these are the females who wish to meet you.” The forest moves to one side, allowing Nala to see the giant room filled with many females, all looking at her.

“Hi.” She peeps, that small sound causes a cascade of murmurs from everyone.

“Don’t worry about these ones.” Nala hears behind her and the females around her move away, acting as if frightened away. Before she knows it, a large hand is on the small of her back, making her think of Dhyot’te’ka. But when she closes her eyes to think of him, she smells him so thickly that it can’t possibly be just a memory. Opening her eyes, Nala looks to the Yautja standing beside her and she nearly screams.

“My name is Dhyot’na.” The female says and bows her head, Nala speechless at seeing the same chocolate skin.

“You smell like him…” She breathes out, her eyes watering.

“Like who?” Dhyot’na asks as she leads Nala to one of the many sitting areas.

“Like Dhyot’te’ka. Are you,”

“His sister? Yes I am.” She actually giggles. “He left home when I was really young but I know he was a very honorable male. And he died like a hunter.”

“I was there when he died…” Nala says quietly. “He died with such grace and dignity I wish it for myself.”

“So what is it like not having mandibles?” A large group of smaller females sits down with them, surrounding her completely but she doesn’t feel like she is being cornered, just examined. And she thinks it’s hilarious.

“I don’t have my mandibles?!” Nala grabs her face in fake shock. “Where did they go?” She cries out and starts lifting up the many pillows around her searching for them. She can’t keep pretending though and bursts laughing at their long faces.

“Very funny Nalani.” Dhyot’na giggles. It is now that Nala sees that females are females everywhere.

“Oh, my rings!” Nala gasps, thinking she had forgotten the small white rings that are meant to be put in her hair. But when she sees them in the hands of Tegon, she knows everything is ok.

“You must sit with your back to me.” Tegon instructs and sits behind her. Nala quickly takes out the weapons she had hidden in her hair, the long red locks falling down in giant strands, the females around her laughing as she set the blades down beside her.

“They really were not kidding about you protecting yourself.” One, named Ukke, gasps a little.

“I need to protect myself, from those challenging me or those who wish to mate with me.” Nala seethes from the memory of Dyne sneaking into her room. Suddenly she feels a comb at the back of her head and she moves forwards in shock. But Tegon shows her the thin metal piece, telling that it will get the knots out well, Nala warning her that ‘if she makes her bleed, she will make her bleed’, that comb seems a little too sharp.

“We heard that you denied Dyne.” Someone else adds in.

“I don’t like him.” Nala answers to that, the brush smoothing, going up and down.

“He is an honorable male.” She says again, Nala holding her tongue.

“But that Dhm’Ni…” Another comes to sit down. “The son of the Ehre Clan, now he is a marvel.” She practically giggles. At his name, and at the thought that Dhm’Ni was a male the Yautja females adore, for some reason makes her stomach not up in jealousy. He is her good friend, he is her first Yautja and she wan…no. He couldn’t even remember her name.

“Dhm’Ni is hot, Blooded and ready to go.” She smiles, that gaining a thunderous roar of laughter. For about three hours, Nala had to sit as they fashioned her hair. Not only did combing it out take a long time, but the thick paste they put in smelt like oil, and felt like it too. As Tegon would slide it onto each large strand though, it would evaporate in seconds, leaving the piece of hair strong and glued together but nubile. Her small white rings were placed on then, just after the strange paste went away and to Nalas surprise, they are quite heavy. She found herself lifting her chin up and down, testing out the weight. She must have looked like a horse as the leathers are first put on, so uncomfortable but not so that it hurts. At the end, she and Dhyot’na talked up a storm, her being exactly like her brother. Nala had even talked with most of the females around her, all of them asking about things from her time with Dhm’Ni, which she left out many details, to her fights with the Patriarch and challengers.

“The Matriarch seems to dislike you already.” A female named Ilok says spitefully, Nala and her not really getting along off the bat.

“What Yautja likes an Ooman before they meet them?” Dhyot’na hisses, soon growling low in her chest as Ilok taps her mandibles angrily at her. To her side, Ukke, who is so young she still has her virginal sign on her crown, leans in and whispers to Nala that Dhyot’na and Ilok have never seen eyes to eye, and though they have never fought, it will soon come to pass as the mating season is a few cycles away. That little bit of information scaring Nala something fierce. The next thing she knows, there is a large box set on the floor, locked with only Tegon having the key.

“What else do I need to do?” Nala asks as the box opens, but as she tries to look, the forests’ body is so large she cannot see a thing.

“Now it is time for the piercing.” Tegon says, turning around with a small clamp in on hand, and what looks like a small round piece of metal in the other, it being no longer than an inch.

“A piercing?” Nala asks, surprised.

“Open her legs.” She orders, the females moving for Nala.

“…”

“” “” “” “”

“How do you think she is doing?” Lord Khupiee asks, lazing back on an ocean of pillows. The occupants of each ship had separated to do what needed to be done, checking in and whatnot. But only one group can go at a time, so Lord Khupiee decided to wait for Nala, him and others wanting to see her done up.

“She knows how to act and what not to do, she will be fine.” Sya says, drinking back some sweet juice. But just after his words, a loud scream fills the air, them all knowing it is Nala. But to Syas wonderful surprise, nearly every Yautja stands up, looking towards the large doors that she had left through. A moment later, Nala bursts into the room, her face showing alarming hilarity for whatever may be behind her. The first thing Dhm’Ni sees is her hair. Not only do the white rings make a startling contrast to her hair, but the slick potion they put into bind it has made it shine as if the sun were in the room.

“Keep them away from me!” Nala yells and runs behind Sya, hiding behind his giant arm. Not far after, the group of females come in, Tegon at the front with clamps in hand. Nala points a very accusing finger at them, squinting harshly at the forest. “They were….They were going to pierce me…” She gets out.

“Oh my.” Sya barks. Remembering now, he wants nothing more than to go back in time and tell Nala of the female traditions, especially those concerning clamps.

“She needs to get it to be complete!” Tegon demands, but as she approaches, Dhm’Ni, Thr’ik and a few others move in front of Nala, growling at her. The forest looks at Dhm’Ni with a strange look in her eyes, her body swaying rather seductively for a moment.

“Nalani does not need such things.” The Patriarch walks forwards, his giant self slowly moving. With only a look, Ras’Lech sends the females away.

“Thank you.” Nala appreciatively thanks him, bowing her head twice before sitting down. “Ok, what was that?” She asks Sya, slipping up to sit next to him comfortably. At first, Sya seems distant to talk about what the piercing involves, but with a sigh she knows he is going to tell her everything she needs to know.

“It has been proven that with females, when they achieve orgasm during intercourse, increases chances of pregnancy fivefold.” He tells, looking at Nala frankly. “And to increase chances of the female achieving orgasm, a small round pin is inserted under the skin to force out what we call a ‘ghy’, a round bundle of nerves that gives her much pleasure.” For a moment Nala is confused, but then she connects the dots.

“Well…mine is already out. I don’t need to do no piercing!” She exclaims.

“Well…” Thr’ik moves really close to her, an arm around her shoulders in a cocky fashion, as he always does. “Us males are trained to give females maximum pleasure while mating so that they achieve their peak, hard, fast and frequent.” He purrs into her ear. But with that new information, Nala stands up and places her hands on her hips.

“You are telling me that I have spent how long, with how many male Yautja that are expertly trained to fight, expertly trained to hunt and expertly trained to mate, and all I ever did was hunt and fight?” She asks no one, gaining laughs and chuckles from nearly everyone in the room. “Well then, I have invented a new level of stupidity.” She giggles.

“Nalani.” The Patriarch calls for her from a far away door. “The Matriarch is ready for you now.”

“” “” “” “”

Authors Note: Well readers, I am sorry for the lateness. I had gotten engaged last month and it has been a crazy time. But I got a chance to sit today, and so I wrote this for you. Hope you liked it and the next one will come the next moment I get to sit down…and who knows when that will be. My mother is already making me look for dresses! Hahaha. Later!

E.M.

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