The Ripple of a Stone

The Ripple of a Stone

Falter

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 tried 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.

E.M.

“” “” “” “”

“Your father believed in upholding the laws no matter the connection to the offender.” Sya quietly says to his Clan Leader. He had to be at this meeting to determine Dets punishment. He doesn’t want to be here. He really doesn’t want to be here. But his responsibilities to his Clan come first, and then he will be with Nala and never leave her side.

“I doubt he thought the laws he set were going to sentence his grandchild to death.” Lord Khupiee nearly whispers. With his back turned to the table that holds all his Elders and Arbitrators, he stares out into space, hoping that Paya will tell him what to do. As a father he wants to keep his son safe. But as a Clan Leader he must uphold the laws of the Yautja. And that is what he will do. “We will bring him before his people and allow him the chance to do the honorable thing, to detonate his personal wrist bomb, though it being a smaller version. But if he does not I will do my task and give his life to Cetanu.”

“I must be clear about what it is Det is charged with. The record keepers need to have all information possible.” Inkle sighs. He too is worried about the little one and knows that Sya wants to be at her side, but business must be done.

“Rape and attempted murder of an Ehre Clan member.” Pakka, sickened to the core, wants to punish Det like all the others do. But for a different reason. It is not that he personally cares for Nalas safety, though he will never wish evil on her, he wishes to do nothing more but keep Yautja laws in action.

“What about the others?” Sya rests his head to the palm of a hand, closes his heavy eyes and tries to breath.

“What others?” An Elder asks. Lord Khupiee growls menacingly as he turns back to the group. He stomps to the table and slams his fist down onto a panel.

“’You think you will be the first Ooman female I kill? How stupid can you be? I have been to your planet too many times to count, and I have raped and killed many, many females like you.’” His recording has haunted this room many times. Nalas mask was recording sound for her hunt and for the attack, and it has proven more than her own rape.

“He has killed females of a prey species. For that he is too also be punished for.” Sya finally stands, fed up with details like this. But the recording goes on without anyone stopping it.

“’But do you, an Ooman, think you can have things with the Yautja? Things only other Oomans can give you? Oh and I know how you work. You become lifemates and reproduce, I have killed many families to know the dynamics of them. But do you think you can get it here? No.’” Nalas voice makes most of the Yautja in the room shake his head in grief. “You anticipate not having a family? Not reproducing? Not having offspring? No pups? No children? No lifemate? No one to call you mother? No one to call you a lover? ENOUGH!’”

“Yes, enough Lord Khupiee.” Elder Rathe ushers the recording off.

“When will this be done?” Another asks.

“The moment Nalani is able to stand and witness it. This meeting is over.” Lord Khupiee sends nearly everyone out, Sya the only one staying behind.

“It is a dark day for the Yautja. Word of this will spread, and you know that.” He walks close to his friend, placing an understanding hand on his shoulder.

“I know, but I do not fear that. I lost Det when he lost his mother. I know that.” The Clan Leader lets his head drop in pure agony. “My son has committed crimes, and he will get his punishment. Get to her side Sya, she needs you.” Sya tightens his hand on Lord Khupiees shoulder before turning and slowly leaving to the healers deck.

“” “” “” “”

“Dhm’Ni?” Sya barks in surprise at seeing only his back as he sits on a corner. His nose burns with the thick stench of Ooman blood, his eyes flutter to try and deal with it.

“She is finally asleep.” He purrs. Sya looks around for Nala, but at not seeing her he goes on scent, following it to the corner where he finds her in Dhm’Nis arms. “After Kh’Cho healed her back, he woke her but she did not let him touch her. He tried to contact you but the meeting about the Bad Blood was closed. So he called me.” Dhm’Ni talks so slowly that his words barely make sense. “She blames herself Sya. Why does she blame herself?” Finally he looks to Sya and only once before has he ever seen those blue eyes so afraid.

“What did she say? Word for word.” He asks as he kneels down next to them, petting her bloodied hair.

“’I tried so hard. I couldn’t stop him. I should have stopped him. I’m so sorry!’ How can she possibly say she could have stopped him, she feels guiltily for this happening. But why?” Now Dhm’Ni growls, his heart beating away in frustration.

“I cannot speak for her Dhm’Ni. I do not know why she feels like that. But we must prove to her she shouldn’t feel that way. We will.” Behind them Kh’Cho walks in with more healers in toe, signaling that they need to do their job. Dhm’Ni lifts himself up, the ache in his body not even registering as he walks with Nala draped over his arms to the table. He places her down gently, careful of the way her hips are placed. Sya looks over the blood stained white sheet she had wrapped herself in, grimacing at not only its scent, but also the smell of Det and his semen he had placed inside her. His stomach falls just thinking about possible pregnancy.

“Check her womb.” He says with great reluctance. It finally hits Dhm’Ni what the consequences of this just may be and his mind run in circles. But he doesn’t understand the pain in his heart at thinking Nala could have a child that would be his niece or nephew, it just can’t be.

“I already injected hormones to stop any chance of that!” Kh’Cho nearly yells out. “Please…” He points towards the door, but it takes a minute before they leave. They lumber out slowly and stare at the door once it closes behind them.

“She must be cursed.” Dhm’Ni says suddenly.

“Why do you say that?”

“What good is in her life Sya? Her past was brutal, her mate and friends were killed, she was taken from her planet, nearly killed how many times and now raped by one of her own. What is going good for her?”

“Us.” Sya grabs Dhm’Nis shoulder and pulls him to look eye to eye with him. “We mean so much to Siechi, do you not remember that she comes to you for comfort, that she sees me as a father. We are the good parts. Just as she is the good part for us.”

“I want h…” Syas eyes scowl without warning and his claws dig into Dhm’Nis shoulder. “I want to get something to drink. Care to join?” He quickly recovers and they both relax again.

“No. No I will wait here.”

For six hours Sya stood motionless with his back to the wall, staring at the door to the healers. Every now and then an injured hunter would walk through it and he would see the tiniest glimpse of her skin, a small smell of her blood. Thankfully, though, it soon stopped smelling at all and his heart began to calm down. He didn’t bother to acknowledge the fact that his feet were burning, nor that his stomach was growling, he was going to wait here. Finally Kh’Cho had come out with a tired smile on his face, telling him good if not great news that Nala was healed, awake and wanted to go home. But she had sent him out there to tell Sya to go get something for her to wear, she did not want to show off her new, or old, scars to anyone. So Sya went to her room only to find Dhm’Ni sitting by her door, waiting for her to come back. The exhausted face he wore told Sya everything, so after pulling him to his feet, he ordered him to get Nala something to wear and together they would get to her. Dhm’Ni knew that she is still ashamed of her body and that she would not want to be on display on her way back, so he gathers a loose fitting top and pants, and also a large white shawl she could wrap herself in. In the lift ride to the healers it is quiet between he and Sya, he doesn’t expect it to be anything else. However, when they both walked in to give Nala her clothing, she orders one of them out.

“I need to talk to Dhm’Ni alone Sya, please.” She whispers as she slips on her shirt. With her eyes momentarily covered, one of Dhm’Nis mandibles twitches in delights, pink succulent nipples half hardened stare at him like eyes. But he kicks himself, he shouldn’t think such things at this time. Or ever.

“We must get you home to rest Nala.” Sya tries, he doesn’t want them together, not now, not ever.

“I am begging you, before I must leave this place and face the world, I just need to say a few words.” Nala kneels on top of the tall table where she had laid to get healed, the height of it actually allowing her to be at eye level with them both. Sya looks between the two young souls and with a grain of salt leaves the room, thinking to himself that if they do not come out in two minutes he is going back in.

“H…How are you feeling?” Dhm’Ni stutters. Nala stands on her knees and motions for him to come closer, but his worried eyes tell her it may take a moment. Her hair still has blood in it, both hers and Dets, she stinks of sweat from the hunt and of surgical ointments, but nothing could ever make her ugly now.

“Please, come to me…” Giant drops appear at her eyes, threatening to fall at any moment, he hates seeing her cry. Dhm’Ni steps up to her, weary for a moment of what she was going to do, when her soft hand touch his cheeks. Her thumbs run back and forth over his molted skin and it takes everything in him not to purr at the joy. His hands slip around to her back and gently pull her closer to touch his body. Dhm’Ni leans down, opens his lower mandibles and presses his chin against her forehead. The salt of her tears finally falling from her eyes sting his nose, but only for a moment.

“Stop crying Nalani.” He whispers. “We are here for you.” Oh how he wishes he could tell her something else, tell her he is there for her, and only for her. The door to the healers opens again and Sya simply stands there in silence until Dhm’Ni reluctantly moves away. He hands Nala the white shall, which she eagerly throws over her shoulders. The soft fabric tickles her chin, but the warmth of it makes her so very tired. Nala, with help, gets off the healers table and starts back to her room. She steps close to Sya as they travel silently in the lift, her heart strangely quiet and barely noticeable to his ears. He wishes he could ask her if she is ok, but he knows that no matter the truth she will answer she is fine. Nala closes her eyes for just a moment, the rest that awaits in her bed a far off dream to her now. She can’t explain, and nor does she want to, how she can be so tired after ‘resting’ and healing. Sya places a light hand just on her hip, a reassuring gesture that she needs. Finally the lift doors open to her residence level and it is deathly empty. Usually it is full of hunters gossiping about the newest weapons, the newest offspring of some hunter or even of her. But there is not a soul. Nala crosses her arms when a sudden chill passes around her, the smell of her bloodied hair making her flinch. As they get into her room, both Dhm’Ni and Sya noticed how empty it is. Granted they have only been home for a small amount of time, they wonder why she has not added her personal touch to her room yet. Nala is a unique being, odd how she does not put that personality into her living quarters.

“Can you guys stay here while I shower?” Nala turns to them, unable to look them in the eye just yet. Noticing though, Sya lifts her chin to force eye contact, telling her they will be here when she gets out. Taking soft, rather scared steps she ventures into her bathroom alone and slowly strips of clothing, soon letting almost boiling hot water soak her skin, her hair soaking in a matter of seconds from the many different spouts of water. She lifts it up to expose her neck, and purposely angles her head to the torched touches the scar on her neck. The pain is excruciating, but she does not move at all. She lets it hit her for a moment, thinking to herself that this pain is nothing compared to Det. Finally she gets to washing, the new scars on her back so grotesquely vulgar and large she bites her lip to try not to cry as she goes. Each giant strand of her hair is washed separately, the white bone of the Hard Meat Queen giving her little satisfaction. She doesn’t dare try to clean her womanhood, Kh’Cho had done all that for her. He had understandably been very gentle and quiet while treating her, purring to her when she cried, smiling at her when she did to him. She must thank him for his kindness when she sees him next. She doesn’t bother to even attempt to dry her hair, instead just slipping into thick, warm sleepwear. Nala comes into her sitting room, finding Sya on her giant sofa and Dhm’Ni in her trophy room. She smiles sheepishly at them both and goes to sit next to the only person she considered her father, resting her head on his hard arm.

“We need to talk.” Sya sighs quietly.

“I know. But not right now.” She answers back. Almost asleep, Nala forces herself to her feet, grabs Sya by the hand and pulls him into her bedroom. With just a tiny look, Nala catches Dhm’Nis’ eyes and calls him in silently, he could not say no. Sya gets her under the covers then lays on top of the fur blanket next to her, his massive body momentarily making her feel safe. Dhm’Ni, stopped at the doorway, fidgets from one foot to the other, not knowing what she wants him to do. He is just about to leave when his favorite words are heard. “Fall asleep with me. Please.” She didn’t need to beg. Slowly he climbs into the bed as well, slipping to lie to the other side of Nala, so to have her sandwiched between he and Sya. Now she feels safe. She twists onto her side, ignoring the pain in her lower abdomen, and pushes harder into Sya’s side, getting more comfortable. One of her hands sneaks out from under the blanket and finds its way into Dhm’Nis hand, his clawed fingers hold on to her little pink ones eagerly.

After a few hours Syas eyes open urgently, he hadn’t planned on sleeping. His stomach drops is terror as he notices that Nala is not in his arms. His heart bounds away at the thought of her being out somewhere, and he wouldn’t be able to find her.

“Sya.” A soft whisper to from the other side of the bed startles him. He looks over and sighs, seeing his little one had moved to be with Dhm’Ni and that one of her hands was resting on his own shoulder.

“What do you need to tell me?” Nala asks, awoken just by the sound of Syas’ racing heart.

“Det is to be punished. At times like this, he is given the choice to take his own life honorably, or if not Lord Khupiee will. You have to be there to witness it.” He expects her to be angry at having to see her attacker once more. He expects her to want to do things differently, to do things her way. But she surprises him.

“Alright. I’m going back to sleep.” Nala shifts her body slightly, moving closer to Dhm’Ni. Sya would allow her to sleep for a few more hours, but until then he will watch his little one sleep in the arms of the Son of the Ehre Clan.

“” “” “” “”

To a Yautja punishment comes in many forms. It can be something as small as exclusion from a hunt or as extreme as death. As for Det he gets more than extreme. Usually a time such as this would include very few people in the process, but the whole world has decided that it deserves to be involved. Lord Khupiee asked his Patriarch and his Matriarch to have this be a private matter, but to his stunning surprise his own people wished to see Det die for his crime. He doesn’t know whether or not it is a good thing, it can show Nalani is considered one of their own and is to be served her justice. Or that as Yautja everything Det did goes against what they singularly believe. He honestly hopes it is a mix of the two. When Lord Khupiee received word Nala was healed and that Sya thought her ready for what needed to be done, he called for everything to start. Deep within the Society Globe, which is neutral ground for both the males and females, there is an enormous stadium that has not been used for an issue like this in nearly two centuries for execution. Used purely for situations such as these, Lord Khupiee has had the displeasure of being in here twice before, to watch two hunters take the honorable route. But now, his heart never more heavy, he waits with Dhm’Ni and all his Elders at the front of the dome, his son needs to be involved if he is to become the Clan Leader. All around him are rows and rows of platforms for spectators to watch, which have been full to capacity for hours. The center of the stadium has nothing but a small pedestal to which Det shall stand on. Never in his life has he thought his blood should be down on the floor, rather than up top to deliver the punishment. When Nala and Sya arrive, the arena goes quiet, to show respect for her ordeal rather than because of her being who she is. As the sufferer of an ill deed, Nala does not wear her Awu’asa like all the others do, instead she is in plain and loose fitting clothing that covers all her sore body, to her liking. Lord Khupiee steps up to her slowly and she holds her head high to greet him. Without words they exchange a lengthy conversation, one with him showing deep regret and her telling of her forgiveness.

A sudden sound from the other end of the stadium startles Nala into moving back to Sya, and at seeing who she assumes to be Det, she grabs his hand to keep from falling down. The only thing recognizable about the figure walking towards is his height and stature. The worst thing for any Yautja to be deprived of is vital necessities like their senses, so what better way to control one? With a second skin around his whole body and a mask over his face, Det has what is called a sense killer by most as it stops a Yautja from feeling everything. One can’t feel the wind against the skin, can’t see or smell or taste. Full and complete sensory deprivation. It’s torturous but it works perfectly to keep someone in control. The two Yautja behind Det lead him to the pedestal and once on he is forced to his knees and chained to the ground by his arms, and to her displeasure remove his mask. His eyes are closed but his body is tense, a mandible twitches slightly and Nala knows in that instance he would not do what is honorable, he is too angry.

“Det-Onda’Ni, you have committed a crime against an Ehre Clan member and are to be punished accordingly. Your crimes are the rape and attempted murder of a female of the Yautja, and an unknown number but provable account of dishonorable killings of female prey species. You are given one chance to take your live and deliver it to the Black Warrior with honor. Do you take that chance?” Lord Khupiee speaks with no emotion in his tone, he does not wish to show anything but complete lack of sympathy or anger. He must fulfill his duties as a Clan Leader first, being the father to a Bad Blood comes second, if not last. But Det makes no other movement, makes no sign of an answer, so he takes it as a refusal to do what Lord Khupiee had hoped. He is just about to make everything final, to tell that it is his duty now to kill his son, when Nala grabs his hand.

“May I say something to him?” She asks. Lord Khupiee can’t deny her the chance, so he nods for her to do whatever she may want. She calls out the Bad Bloods name, needing to say what is in her heart but to do that she must see into his eyes, no matter how they may scare her. But Det does not move. So with her frustration hitting its peak, Nalani quickly jumps down to the ground, her suddenly thinking it was a bad idea to not have any weaponry on her. Her feet move so quickly, almost running, that she was in front of him in an instant. Not willing to call his name again, she slaps him hard and finally he opens his eyes to her. “I do not know what you think you took from me, Bad Blood, for you took nothing!” She nearly screams. But neither she nor Det believe her words, maybe one day she will believe them and they may be true. But they are not true now. But she hopes. “I forgive you for what you did Det. But what I cannot forgive you for is what you had done to other Oomans, the ones you admitted to doing what you too did to me. You will die, Det. Without honor, without memory, with nothing but shame and horror at the sound of your name!” By now she was seething, her words coming out so full of hate that those who know her are stunned. But unable to think any more, Nalani turns and begins to walk away, fully intending on just watching that pathetic excuse for a Yautja die. But mid way back to Sya, her mind suddenly realizes something and she turns around to yell. “And you know, rape is a strange thing. It is not done out of sexual desire, but out of anger. Uncontrolled, unbridled, rampant anger. How very Ooman of you Det.” Not until that moment did Det make any move, but at being called Ooman he stands tall and tries roar, to truly show anger but due to the sense suit, his throat is numb and nothing comes from him. Nala, fully satisfied, makes her way back up to the front of the dome and stands alone, looking right into the eyes of Det.

Finally Lord Khupiee moves, his body numb. With each step he gets closer to his first born son and he can feel something inside of his body break apart. His lifemate had given birth to a monster, to a being that would so easily do things that were wrong. No matter now. Det looks into his fathers’ eyes and for a split moment, the hardness in them dies, proving that the realization that he is about to die finally hits him and his heart skips more than a single beat. He tries to hide an ungraceful fall by landing with his one hand to the ground, but it was pointless. He can’t feel anything but dread. With his mask off he can sense few things, and at the sound of his fathers’ weapon being taken from his Awu’asa, he wishes that he couldn’t hear anything at all. At the very moment Lord Khupiee swings his knife down, Det looks up and to a far, dark corner that was meant to be empty. But in the next moment there is nothing and the Clan Leader sees the head of a mere Bad Blood fall to the ground. His son will not be sent into the sun to become light, he will not have what he was meant to have. But no use thinking about it now. He drops his knife, he would never use it again, and walks away. Leaving it to those who will simply bring the body to the home planet and allow it to decompose. The Bad Blood on the ground was not his son. And yet, the pain in his chest, the grief of no longer having that son, will never leave him and Lord Khupiee knows that.

Little does Nala know, but that one small look Det gave would seal her fate. Far in the dark corner, hidden from all those around, stand more than a dozen Yautja who dedicated their lives to Det-Onda’Ni. Their leader has been killed and must be revenged, that is what that small little look tells them, that is all it takes for them to begin to plan.

“” “” “” “”

“If it were not for the fact that your heart is beating I wouldn’t know you were watching me.” Nala smiles while still reading letters from hunters that had left to a far planet, she demanded to know about the hunting prey there. But for more than ten minutes she knew that Aja was watching her from across the room, she can’t smell him but she sure can hear him.

“I’ve just arrived back home today. I’ve been gone.” He says rather strangely.

“I know.” She smiles and looks over her shoulder to him, only to see that he hasn’t come closer and is clearly nervous about something. “What’s wrong?”

“News of what happened couldn’t be sent to me, I just had to find out by gossip about what happened. I came to check on you.” His skin, while usually its’ clear pearl and red, was now all flush a strange light green. Nala makes the next conversation short, only telling him that she is ok, that justice was served and things will be ok. It takes more time to usher him to sit with her. The small society room she sits in is nearly empty but for them and a small group of Unblooded males constantly looking back at her. She tries to get him to talk, but he can’t look her in the eyes.

“Aja please, respect me enough to talk to me.” Finally he looks up and she smiles at him warmly. “So where did you go?” She asks, putting down her letters.

“Your old home world actually!” He tells funnily, getting a little more comfortable.

“Earth? Really?”

“If that is what you call it. It has seen better days, that is for sure.” He laughs. At seeing Nalas wondering face however, he goes further. “Something has happened to the weather, I went during a time when it was meant to be hot, but there was nothing but rain and wind and very bad storms. It was strange. I had to wait many days for just one good day of hunting.” He scoffs at the audacity of the weather for getting in his way.

“I’ve almost forgotten that planet.” Nalas says and stares off into space for a moment.

“Let’s go hunting there, just you and I.” Aja moves closer to her and Nala, unable to say no to his pleading eyes, agrees to go in the next cycle. For hours after he told her story upon story of his hunts, they would snack every now and then at the dining hall with more than a few hunters wondering about their friendship, including Dhm’Ni. Nala would become so engrossed in his tales of pray so cunning and smart that he had taken twice as long to kill that by the time he was done it was almost time to sleep. But both she and Aja don’t feel like sleeping, and he suddenly has an idea. “You are a fully grown, how about I take you for a little drink?” His nearly clear mandibles clatter mischievously as he smiles.

“I haven’t had a real drink in a long time.” Nala admits, and soon agrees on just one drink. Aja grabs her hand and practically pulls her towards her room. Rather flustered, he makes Nala change into her informal Awu’asa so to have some kind of guard and weaponry, the society globe can get a little out of hand. He waits in her small sitting room while she changes, noting that it doesn’t look remotely lived in. A half hour later they arrive at the society globe and she is shocked at the scene. Males of all status are drinking together, even females are mingling with them. She laughs to herself as she watches poor Thr’ik wave at her, then get slapped on the back of the head by a female he must have been trying to court. Aja weaves their bodies through a thick crowd down into a sitting pit that was less crowded, and full of much higher ranked males, few of which she knows.

“Siechi, these are my friends, whose names don’t matter at all.” He laughs when the males grumble about being proper and introducing them.

“It is an honor meeting those who Aja can call his friends.” Nala bows her head low in respect, she can tell by the many old, well decorated Awu’asas that these males are quite accomplished.

“The honor is ours.” One, named Gru’Kec, offers her a seat. After an embarrassing story from Ajas Unblooded childhood, Nala is finally faced with a small drink the color of mud, and just about as thick too.

“What is this?” She asks, its smell so thick her nose hurts.

“Patti, just down it.” Another male laughs, pushing it towards her. “It is light in alcohol, it will not kill you.” They all chuckle at that, and at her face as the brown, thick liquid slides down her throat. After recovering, she demands something more passable and for a while she enjoys the company within in their small circle. And then she smells him. Nala looks through the crowd as best she can, her eyes unable to sift through all the Yautja. She stands up to try to get a better look, all the males looking strangely at her. Then she spots him standing with Thr’ik, dressed to impress and Nala can’t will her eyes not to roam up his thick ankles, the curve of his thighs up to his ever hardening stomach. His shoulders seem to get broader every day. In the midst of hundreds, she sees only the color of his skin and even from so far away, the color of his eyes. And her heart stops, for just a moment, when they land on her. Nala waves him over with a giant smile, it has been so long since she has sat down him, too long. But Dhm’Ni takes no more than three steps before he sees the company around her, and looks down sheepishly before turning and walking away.

“The Son of the Ehre clan in not welcome here.” One of them stands up, his height more than three heads higher than Nalas.

“Why not?” She asks him, uncaring at the difference and rank.

“He is still a Young Blood yet, all in this circle are Honored Hunters.” Clearly Nala knows that his male, Mig, was the best of the bunch here, so respect is unquestionable.

“And yet you give me the honor of allowing me to sit with you?” She must pick her words carefully, for fear of alienating this great hunter.

“You are something more than he will ever be.” He chuckles under his breath, like he knew Dhm’Ni more than she does.

“I have faith in everything Dhm’Ni will do in his life. He is the Son of the Ehre clan, as you said yourself. I think that he will be the greatest hunter, leader and friend I will ever see.” She smiles deviously. “Except for you, my new friend.” They all laugh and sit down, but not before Nala tries to find Dhm’Ni again in the crowd, hoping for just one look. But she is unsuccessful.

After counting eleven empty glasses of her own, and nearly thirty for Aja, Nalas eyes blur from drunkenness while Aja smiles in amusement. Long ago he remarked how little her system could handle, she will never let it down. Way after the midnight hour, they decide that it is best to put her body to sleep and together, with Aja half holding her up though he too is drunk, they walk out together. They don’t notice the eyes watching them, they couldn’t care less. In the lift, Nala begins to laugh as his skin turns into the oddest color of orange, Aja warning that if they do not get to her room soon, the floor will be very disgusting. She tells him to breathe deep, close his eyes and relax to force that nausea away. And it works until finally they get back to her home and Aja runs into her bathroom while Nala falls onto her bed. She still hadn’t bothered to change it from its basic form, she doesn’t want to honestly, and doesn’t know why. The sounds from the bathroom make her giggle and with extremely heavy arms, Nala drags her drunk self up the bed to her pillow where she eagerly rests her head down. Her stomach jumps suddenly but she relaxes and calms down just as Aja stagers out, a wet towel to his now clean mouth. He leans against one wall and for a moment he stars at the female in bed. If it were not for her reddened face to prove the level of alcohol in her system, Aja would have said she was just sleeping. His heavy feet drag as he walks to the side of her bed and not caring if he wakes her, he simply drops his body down onto the bed. Startled, Nala groans and calls him a very bad word, only making him laugh.

“Do you have any idea how long it has been since I have had a drink?” Aja ask out loud, his voice hurting both of their ears.

“Long I am guessing.” Nala turns onto her back and stars down at the Yautja on her bed, seeing that his normal color is back and he is relaxed to the point that his eyes are closed.

“Longer than you have been alive, little one.” Nala gently kicks him in the side but in doing so, Aja grabs her foot and tosses it to the side. Suddenly the room has a strange quiet to it and within moments they were asleep on opposite sides of the bed, but it doesn’t stay that way for long.

In the early morning something devastating happens that while seemingly innocent, to an on looker it would be much, much more. Dhm’Ni hadn’t even slept yet, staying the whole night with Thr’ik, trying and failing to mate. His body is stiff and head heavy with sleep when he notices Nalas door open. The long walk from the Society Globe to his home was hard enough, but the thought that her door was open woke him up instantly. What if someone has hurt her? Sliding out a knife, Dhm’Ni stalks to the corner of her door and looks in slowly, seeing only dark. He jumps in and turns on the light, but there is only an empty sitting room. A faint masculine smell wafts through her open bedroom door and his stomach drops, his eyes widen in fear at just the thought. His arms drop by his sides and he slowly makes his way into her room. A small ray of light from the sitting room lets him see a sight he never thought possible, for there on her bed Nala lays entwined with Aja.

Why does his chest hurt? What is this pain? Dhm’Ni puts his hand to his chest, trying to stop the ache but it doesn’t go away. Faltering for just a moment, he runs out of the room and into his own. He walks back and forth, his head shaking every now and then, trying to get the image out of it. But it’s not working! In pure frustration, he rips off his Awu’asa and heads for his room. But something is wrong with him. Before even laying on his bed, he wishes Nala were on it. He closes his eyes but in doing so he sees Ajas hand and how it was ever so gently resting in her hip as they slept. But in that same thought Dhm’Ni can just imagine his own hand there, pulling her body into his own. Then an idea jumps into his head that makes him purr so deep his fingers vibrate. His head falls back at thinking of placing his hands on her hips and pulling her round back end into his groin, and suddenly that very area begins to heat up. He can feel his manhood being pushed into her warm bottom, her soft skin under his hands, her scent making his body ache. And oh yes, Dhm’Ni remembers her scent of arousal.

His eyes snap open and he looks down to see his own arousal at its peak, it shouldn’t be like this! He practically runs into the bathroom, he needs to finish this now! He stands in front of his long mirror unknowingly, but he does not see himself in the reflection. What he sees is Nala, bent over in front of him, her arms being pulled behind her by his own and the most pleasured look on her face as his hips begin to thrust back and forth. A small, delicious drop of pre-ejaculate drips from his manhood and his body shivers as if he were in the cold of winter. A hand makes its way to his base and starts slow, rhythmic pumps. He can feel it pulse in his hand every time he thinks of the sound she would make with each thrust in. In his mind he can see her now, the shape of her butt as it slaps against his stomach each and every time he pulls her back. And every time harder, and harder, and harder! All it takes is a single thought for Dhm’Ni to reach climax, which is the idea of him releasing into her itself. Just the idea of giving in to her, of giving everything he has as a male to her and he is finished. His body is weak and his mind overwhelmed. Wobbling to bed, he simply falls down and sleeps. It is all he can do.

“” “” “” “”

“Ahemm….” Someone coughs loudly, jolting the two sleeping bodies. Nalas eyes hurt so badly that she covers them instantly, while Aja merely yawns. His body arches long and high, almost crushing her own body before she slaps his shoulder.

“Forgot you were there little one, sorry.” He mumbles. Together they look around, though the darkness in the room allows little to see. For the rest of her life Nala will regret turning on the lights, because when she does Sya is standing there, looking down at them in bed. The half amused, half stunned look on his old face causes Nala great confusion, she doesn’t know if she should laugh or apologize. So she does both.

“We got drunk! I’m sorry Sya, we didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Oh her eyes hurt, she can’t bear to keep them open to look at him in the eyes. Sya shifts on his spot, uncomfortable, she thinks. But he and Aja know that it is not that he is uncomfortable, it is because he wishes to ask a question he would never actually ask. All it takes, however, is one look between the males to know that nothing had happened, sadly. “Oh I’m going to be sick.” Nala jumps up from her bed, tripping twice, before getting into the bathroom.

“I think it is time for you to leave.” Sya smiles at his friend. “I also think that you should know I do not approve of this.” Aja slides off the bed nonchalantly, as if nothing had happened, as if no one had seen them. He adjusts his Awu’asa to be presentable, straightens out his tresses and starts to walk out of the room.

“Not yet. But you will.” Aja adds just as he exits. Sya shakes his head in disbelief. As a male, he knows that the connection of Nala and Aja would be a good match, but he knows she is not ready for such a thing. But if it should ever happen, and his guess is it may well soon, Aja will have to go through him to get to her.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks her as she walks out, embarrassed. After seeing her drinking buddy gone, she simply undresses and readies for the shower. “I have arranged a meeting for you today, something I think needs to be addressed.” His voice is low, serious, it frightens her for a moment. “This dwelling is for you to keep and maintain, it looks like no one lives here. Dhyot’na was pleased to agree to help you with this.” Nala stands naked, astounded and not understanding. “Your home is boring, little one. She is going to the trading posts to help you feel at home here.” She just nods, she will do anything Sya says.

After showering, which such a small act has become very complicated with her hair now, she dresses in a loose blue wrap, just the bottoms on her scared legs barely showing. Underneath it though are her weapons, like heck will she go out in public without protection. Sya escorts her to a very small meal before dropping her off at a transport to the female globe, assuring her that Dhyot’na will be there waiting for her. And sure enough, not half an hour later, Nala walks off the transport to see that beautiful spotted skin, and the memories flash back so fast it hurts her already pounding head. The Yautja walks up to her smiling, and to Nalas shock she is wearing the most simple of outfits. She asks why she would not wear any protection, Dhyot’na laughing that at this point in time they need no weapons, but when mating season starts next cycle, that is all they will wear. Those two words, ‘mating season’, scare Nala to her core, but of course would never show it.

“What are we doing today, Sya was vague with details.” She asks as she follows the very large female around. But following them, more and more joining the group, are young females still curious about the new addition. The halls seem so tight to her now, her breathing deliberately calm so not to alert her friend to her issues.

“While hunting, as you may now, takes up a lot of time, we Yautja still come home because it is, well, home!” Dhyot’na giggles and places her hand on her back to usher her faster through a set of doors. Nearly tripping over her feet, Nala gasps at the giant room, so far and wide that she can’t see the end. Her senses are overwhelmed at all the colors and smells and the large amount of females in it, but everything is amazing. Dhyot’na smiles and laughs at the poor thing, so new to everything. She grabs Nalas hand and heads right into the thick of the crowd, which remarkably don’t seem to notice her in their bustle. If ever she needed anything she will find it there. First place she is taken to is nothing but a long wall full of roll after roll of fabrics. Every color under the rainbow stare at her, each one calling out for her! “Pick one and we will work off that.”

“Pick one for what though?” Nala asks, touching a soft green roll.

“First we start with the bed, than we work from there.” For the first time in her life, after picking a very light shade of blue, Nala spends time with a female and in that time they do those little fun things that make a house a home. Never before had she thought of where she would meditate, and on which kind of fabric, in what corner. But with Dhyot’na by her side she is sure that things will be done and amazingly well. The next few stops, however, also scare Nala to the point of running away. But she will never be that weak. She is escorted to a tailors shop but once in the rather open area, she regrets allowing such a large group of females to follow her. The old Yautja that comes out to greet them stops in her tracks, but whether it is from anger at her being there or just the pure fact that she is there, Nala doesn’t know. She bows her head in greeting, thanking her for letting her look at her many great items. And when a small smile creeps onto the old females face, things seem to have a better air.

“What are you looking to get today? Wearing something like that is not good, not at all!” Suddenly the older Yautja begins to rip off Nalas clothing, each little piece ending up of the floor. Not knowing what to do, and seeing as how Dyhot’na is doing nothing, she just allows it to happen. Although, when the tailor gets to her layer of weapons, a small gasp comes from everyone.

“I know it seems strange I have weapons here, but no matter where I am, even in my own bed, I must have the proper protection.” Nala says loudly, she will never be apologetic, simply rational. The female just nods and watches as Nala takes off each little piece to be put back on later in the exact order. But now, standing nearly naked with only small bands of fabric covering her most female parts, things happen that make her question the sanity of Sya. Measurements are taken, different colors placed against her skin, odd and rather ugly beading presented to her. Slowly something beautiful happens and suddenly Nala finds herself in a light purple dress. Hugging her curves, covering all that needed to be, and flowing like water, Nala looks back at herself in a mirror as if they were two different people.
“Now, after she takes more measurements she will take the lead and make more for you. But for now we must go to my friend Kuy’Jaka, she makes the most comfortable sofas!” This was going to be a long day.

“” “” “” “”

The air was the same, the heat was the same, everything but the day was the same as before. All her Elders and Arbitrators, every friend she trusts, everyone she loves stands behind her as Nala slowly makes her way down the ramp of the DropShip. If only it had been done this way before, if only she had had them with her like this. If only she hadn’t been stupid and gone off of her own! Nala shakes her head violently to get those kinds of thoughts out of her head. But lately they seem to come more often, and more and more emotionally detrimental. Her skin begins to sweat at the heat of the Home World, her white Awu’asa shining so brightly in the twin suns. Sya slowly walks to her side, asking in a whisper if she is okay. She doesn’t answer and merely smiles, though they both know it is forced. Her heart suddenly starts to pound away is frenzy, her breathing so erratic that her head gets dizzy. Nala grabs her head and forces deep, hard breaths.

“What is happening?” Someone behind her asks.

“Nothing, I’m fine!” Nala nearly hisses. On weak feet she takes small, direct steps towards the far off pyramid in the jungle, the small tip of it still just above the line of the trees, staring at her. The Patriarch takes the lead of the group, knowing the best way there through the thicket. It was more than an hour before another word was uttered, but they will were not even half way there. Behind her, Nala hears a soft laugh of Thr’ik and then another one from Dhm’Ni, they haven’t spoken in days. She smiles and takes the smallest look behind her, but can’t see them. She stops and tries to see them through the crowd of moving Yautja, but as they make their way past her she can’t find even Thr’ik. The thick jungle around her, all the shades of green and browns, the smells from leaves and sounds from animals make it near impossible for her to point one out. How can she be a Yautja if she can’t do the basic of things? When her heart falls at the thought, her shoulders slump.

“Why so sad?” A voice right behind her asks, making her jump forwards and almost fall down. But Dhm’Ni laughs, even placing a hand on his best friends shoulder to keep from falling himself.

“What are you doing back there?” Lord Khupiee asks from ahead.

“Just showing Nala something father.” He laughs once more before just walking on, leaving Nala there half frightened half angry.

It was almost another three hours of slow walking before a break in the brush allows her to see what she has for so long wanted to. The yellow of the stone seems almost gold in the sun light, the long stairs leading to what must be the only way in so high and so long Nala gulps. On either side of the stair case are two rows of never ending statues of Yautja, all wearing their battle Awu’asa, each unique, each someone who once hunted. The massive group waits until the last of them arrives, and for a moment Nala just looks at them. Her Matriarch stands a little away from the group, she never truly agreed to this. Her Patriarch talks quietly with Sya, her Clan Leader most likely chastising his son for holding up the walk. When she sees Aja making his way to her, she smiles. But it is wiped away when she notices the skull in his hands, her skull that she is offering. He holds it up for her to take, but she doesn’t move. Without speaking a word Aja can read in her eyes that she is scared, and does not know what to do! But a reassuring hand on her arm lets her know that they are there for her. For just a moment, perhaps not even a second, Nala feels that things might be better. But not a second after more than two dozen long spears appear from the other side of the pyramid, flying through the air with a sound so terrifying no one moves. One of the weapons expertly collides with her skull, nearly taking off Ajas hand. While that one was aimed, all the others seem to fall wherever, most not hitting a thing but one scratching the Matriarchs headpiece. From the jungle edge almost a dozen Yautja, all wearing black Awu’asa, begin to assault the group. Nala is quickly ushered by a few Elders away from the fight while the others engage the foreign Yautja. Rathe takes her by the arm to make sure she stays with them. With the small group of five away, Nala finds that neither Sya nor Lord Khupiee are with her. They run so fast that soon they are far beyond the pyramid. But then everyone stops. The sounds around them are unnatural, someone has been following. Before any of them, Nala puts on her mask and extends her staff, ready for anything now. They all follow suit and make a circle, waiting for whatever may be around them to show.

Sya tosses a Yautja over his head, slamming him onto the ground so hard that the bones in his body shatter on impact. To his side the other elders are struggling, some already giving their blood. Everyone, even the Patriarch, is confused as to who these Yautja are, what they are doing and for what purpose. Behind him, he can hear Lord Khupiee roaring in rage, and even beyond him, Thr’ik is trying to take down a black hunter. But where is Dhm’Ni? He looks around for the Young Blood, and to his shock finds him stands as still as stone. He calls out to the young Yautja, but gets nothing. He fights his way to him, having to shake Dhm’Ni violently to get him to snap out of it.

“These Yautja…” Dhm’Ni stutters. “The same Awu’asa…” He says again.

“What are you blabbering about?” Sya hisses.

“The ones that killed my mother, don’t you see?” Finally he looks and to his shock, the black Yautja are exactly what a young Dhm’Ni hid described when his mother was murdered. “They must be a group we have never known about, a faction of Yautja.” Suddenly two blank Yautja appear and the ensuing fight makes Sya take a step back at seeing his student. The rage and pure anger that ferments off of him is something Sya has never seen. The roar of wrath makes everyone stop for just a moment, the sound making their lungs quiver.

A snap in the forest makes Nala flinch. Rathe steps in front of her, to be between her and whatever may be in the forest. And as much as she would love to move him out of the way, something inside of her tells her that things are going to be very bad. A horrendous roar from behind them startles the whole group and when more than ten Yautja emerge on them she knows this will either end in her death or theirs, and she fully intends on reading that damned book. The first to fall was an Elder, but three of the black Yautja were soon without breath. Nala and Rathe fight as one, their backs together, fending off and killing any who come to them as they try to get far away. Rathe raises his hands behind his head and slowly takes out his two long swords, the same pair Nala had used to kill her Queen. He holds them out, ready to kill. A little ways away they can hear that the other Elders have killed the remaining intruders, but they know around them are two of them, stalking them.

“It will be alright little one,” He tries to calm her. “We will make sure you read our story.”

“Don’t think that will happen.” Out of the trees a black hunter jumps out yelling, thrashing his blade up into Rathes gut. But the Elder does not move. He brings up his hands and with just a blink of her eyes, Nala watches the Yautja split in two pieces and fall apart. The Elder looks down at the weapon still stuck in his body, and to her shock he merely rips it out. For a moment, just the tiniest of moments, Nala sees his waver back before catching himself. Rathe throws the blade to the ground and grows low as a warning to the last black hunter. But her fingers are numb, her stomach so light that she would not be surprised if her lunch were to come up. A snap of a twig startles them both, their bodies jumping. There are no other sounds, not wind in the leaves, not animals on the ground. Nala tightens her grip on her staff when her body suddenly feels someone coming. From behind the final black hunter jumps to them and Rathe tries to thrust up his blades, missing by an inch. The Yautja laughs almost hysterically, his posture so sure of himself that he actually walks circles around them. Without looking at one another, Nala and her Elder both jolt forwards with weapons, causing the intruder to stay just in place as Rathe uses his free hand to strike him down. A long blade enters the Yautja in the side, but does nothing but cause a little blood. If it had in fact injured him to the point of any pain at all, it did not register with him.

The black hunter chargers at her Elder and, stilled by fear, Nala watches in horror as once again a blade is struck into his body. However, as the saying goes, an eye for an eye. Rathe slices his own weapon again, causing the hunter to hiss in agony, his green putrid blood seeping to the ground, mixing with her friends. And then to her pure shock, Rather wavers once more but this time does not recover, falling to his knees. The intruder himself takes a few steps back, having to take a small breath before he turns his rather large head towards her. Nala can finally see the damage to her dear friend, the wounds go right through him and in vital places. His heart pumps out more blood and instantly she knows that he will not live much longer. Rathe falls to his hands and takes off his mask, breathing out globs of green blood. The black hunter can only take a single step before her small knife is in his head, right between his eyes. Her aim was off, however, as she was aiming for a less important spot, wanted to keep him alive for both torture and information. Oh well. Before the invaders body even falls to the ground she is as Rathes side, helping him to lay on his back. It had all happened so fast, it takes a minute for her to just know what really did happen.

“Rathe…” She mumbles, taking off her mask.

“Oh little one, I knew you would be great.” His eyes are not all there, something in them scares her as she tries to speak. “Hope that I am graced with judgment dear Nalani, hope that it will be fair and just.” She doesn’t say a word, just staring and trying to stop the bleeding. “My swords…” He utters, reaching for his long twin blades. Nala gathers them but once she tries to give them to him, he pushes them away. “Are now yours. My gift.” The light in his eyes went away not long after that, she had been petting the side of his face, humming and smiling, thanking him for her gift, and her life.

“Dhm’Ni!” Lord Khupiee nearly roars, something inside of him telling him that his son needed to be stopped before killing them all, they needed at least one to question. But Dhm’Ni can’t hear anything, the only thing important now is killing those who remind him of the very Yautja who killed him mother. They have the same black Awu’asa, the same scentless bodies, same everything. Sya has been beside him, watching his back, he knows it. A few more Elders have received little injury, even the Matriarch getting a scratch or two. Dhm’Ni slices the throat of the black hunter, sending him to Paya to be sent into the nothingness. He fully indented to find another, but her scent causes his heart to tremble. He sees her slowing coming from the tress, two long blades strapped to her back, green blood all down the length of her, her mask off and eyes so fearful he begins to run to her. Sya calls after him, trying to warn him of his follower, but they go on deaf ear. Dhm’Ni is no more than thirty paces to her when he feels the slick, hot steel enter his thigh, his legs wobbling uncontrollably. But if it had not been for the sudden weakness and straight fall to the ground because of it, the shurikin would have sliced off his head rather than missing him by an inch. He falls ungracefully to the ground with Nala watching emotionless, if only he knew that her heart had been drained already at the loss of a friend, her anger spilling over to put her in a trance. The black hunter takes back his weapon and starts for her, but is quickly stopped by Syas hand. The fight is nothing but a blur to Nala, her eyes staring at Dhm’Ni and his slashed leg. Her head feels so heavy, her arms are stone, her legs as stuck to the ground as the trees.

“Nala!” Someone, she doesn’t know who, calls her name and without warning everything becomes clear. She can see how the black hunter has the upper hand, that Sya is a breath way from being hit. Without thinking, Nala twists the wrapped weapons and they loosen from their tight knot, falling into her hands. She cries out in anger, long blades dragging by her sides, and run towards the scene. Sya falls to the knee from a blow to the head, and just as the black hunter raises a hand to strike his wrist blades into his head, Nala slices upwards, taking off his arm. The intruder cries in agony, holding his stump of a hand. Before he can take another breathe in, she takes off his head. She no longer cared of taking the life of another, he hurt Sya. Her heart is too hard at this moment for a single life of an evil Yautja to matter. She watches the body fall to the ground with a small sense of pride beginning to build. However, it is quickly killed when the most malevolent laughing starts. She looks behind her half a dozen more, but also to see someone vaguely familiar. His uncovered face, she has seen it before. The other five black hunter begin to attack while they stare at each other. Between she and the unmasked Yautja is Sya, still on his knees with a dizzy head, her poor Dhm’Ni still trying to stand and her Clan Leader running towards them. It is all in slow motion.

“I do this as revenge!” The Yautja says. “Det, my Master, for you I take life.” Then suddenly she knows this male, the one who followed the first born son around. He is a friend of Dets. In the blink of an eye the unmasked male begins to run toward Sya and without thought Nala starts towards him too, intending on keeping him safe. She watches in terror when his wrist blades extend and he takes back his arm. With all of her might she jumps, there must be more than fifteen feet between them but she knows she can stop them from killing Sya, has to. Her body falls just as that arm of the Yautja does. And while his target was Sya, the two blades slide easily into her body, both going into her chest just under her breasts. The pain causes the smallest of screams, but she also hears the honest sound of a shocked gasp from the Yautja. His eyes, at first, were stunned but they soon take of the most evil glair that her heart pauses. In her hands, them being momentarily weak, are Rathes legacy. And for a second they almost fall from her grasp. But with her last bit of strength, she brings them together just as she had seen them with their true owner. This Yautja, this friend of Det, has no time to know that he is dead, the top of his head coming off in too many pieces. As his body falls so do the blades, they rip from her chest unceremoniously. Nala drops the blades and begins to shake. She turns around to see all the surviving Yautja staring at her. She takes a few steps towards Sya, his movements stopped at seeing her. But her body can’t move anymore and she falls backwards.

“Nalani…” Dhm’Ni whispers. Through his mask he sees the damage, he sees her heart nearly cut, sees her lungs have stopped moving, her fingers are cold. He begins to drag his body towards her just as Sya jolts upwards. He falls down next to her and picks her body up into his arms, calling her name. But her eyes are motionless, near lifeless. “No…” Dhm’Ni says again. His father is suddenly at his side and picks him up to his feet, helping him to the pair on the ground. The pool of red blood that had poured from her body alarms both of them, it is too great of an amount to sustain life.

“What can I do?” Sya hollers, her heart beating so fast in pure agony at the situation. Dhm’Ni stares into her eyes, noting that the suns make them so light blue, her skin to pale, her hair so vibrant, but her body so lifeless.

“She needs blood.” Someone behind them nearly whispers. They turn to see Aja standing alone, his shoulders slumped, body covered in blood and visibly tired. Sya looks between the changer and his Nala only once before he knows what to do. And if he prays, maybe Paya will let this work.

(Authors Note)
If only my readers could know what has happened in the past months. All I shall say is I am well, I feel horrible for not updating (I did not have internet for a long while), and that things will pick up again. I promise!