Rivers Run Deep

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Disclaimer: I do not own the concept of the Predator. whatever you don't recognize, is mine however.




Authors Notes: Full Disclaimer at the begining of the first chapter.



Author: Charlotte (jemstone5)

Email: jemstone5

Feedback: Please, yes lots.

Forward to others: would be flattered if you did.

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Rivers Run Deep



Chapter 37

M’Pa moved as quickly as he could. There were three pitchers of ice water not far down the table, the outer surfaces still fresh with chilled moisture from the surrounding air to attest to the coldness that still lie within. But as he took his third step, another Yautja ran from the other direction, bent on throwing M’Pa out of the way. “BAD MOVE!” he shouted, locking the male in his arms by his neck. The strange male was no way going to match him, M’Pa was bigger, by at least three feet, he was stronger, it would be easy to snap his neck, and he was younger, he could see this male’s dreads already beginning their color change from sleek black to ashburn grey.


He couldn’t blame the males really, the scent of numerous female Yautja already getting excited about gathering, insisting that their mates arouse them on a regular basis so they would be ready for gathering and the endless hours of pleasures it would bring. The scent of a young fertile female Ooman, like El, was just too much for some hormonal males to resist. The only way this male would get out of his grasp, is if he did something underhanded.


And underhanded it was.


As Ver’On and Kire struggled on one side of the room, M’Pa and the other male growled and hissed at each other not too far from El. M’Pa hoped that his obvious advantage over the stranger would win out, and force him to back down. Such would not be. The male drew a blade and drove it into M’Pa’s calf. M’Pa growled louder, and drew his own weapon, driving the twin blades into the male’s thy…and twisting.


Normally fights like this did not include weapons, they were settled with brute strength, to prove which would be the better breading partner for the female. But when weapons were drawn, the fight would change, M’Pa would kill, and so would the other male. This fight was no longer about who would mate with the female, this fight turned ugly, as to who could do the most damage, and still have it look honorable.


M’Pa let the male drop to the floor, his leg useless as the blade he’d twisted tore through several layers of muscle, crippling him. Satisfied he’d made his point, he returned to his quest for the water. If the healers on the ship were any good, the male would have a scar to bare witness to his missdeed, but as he turned to complete his task, the male gave one last try for El, tackling M’Pa across the room, digging his claws into M’Pa’s wound to make it difficult to use his leg to stop his momentum.


M’Pa felt the impact with the other fighters, and felt someone push him yet again, too late to stop himself from falling onto the raised end of the combistick. “NNNOOO!!!” he heard El scream, and looked down to his new wound.


Somewhere, to the side, several other warriors pulled his battle opponent away, he wasn’t sure exactly what they did to calm him, and at the moment he didn’t really care. He should have felt pain, but it was only a warm numbing sensation, as he saw the end of the staff sticking into his chest. It had just missed his armor, and he could feel the metal inside his body angling upwards. He knew it protruded from his back, he was far too close to the center hand grip for it not too. He was going to die…he glanced to his left as the male was hauled away. He looked further to where El had still stood on the table, right where he’d placed her, not even a hair out of place.


He felt himself fall over, as the combistick lost its grip on whatever had held it up. At least…he believed that. As he turned over, he came face to face with Ver’On, and saw the shock and anger etched into his face. “M’Pa…,” he called.


‘No, I die with honor…’ He held up his blade. “I didn’t let him get close,” he said with pride. ‘What better way to die, than by my duty.’ But as he could tell Ver’On was trying to think of what to do, looking to where the strange male was being dragged away. M’Pa saw Kire struggle to his feet, stalking across the room to where El stood screaming for someone to help him. She didn’t even notice him coming. “Ver’On…don’t let Kire hurt her!”






Ver’On stood over the body of the fallen. El was screaming…how could this have happened? He knelt down and turned the warrior over. It was M’Pa, impaled on the spear that was meant for him. “M’Pa…”


“I didn’t let him get close,” he stated proudly, holding up his bloody knife. Ver’On looked to the left to see two hunters struggle with a third to the back of the room, a deep stab wound to his upper left thy. “Ver’On…Don’t let Kire hurt her!” He turned to see Kire make his way across the room. El wasn’t moving, she didn’t even notice him. “The Sear!” he heard M’Pa gasp, thrusting Ver’On’s hand around the grip of the combistick. “Take…the spear!” Ver’On couldn’t believe what M’Pa was saying. If he removed the spear, he’d bleed out, M’Pa would DIE! M’Pa shook his hands to the spear’s grip, nodding as he looked to El…one last time. “TAKE IT!!” Ver’On quickly pulled the spear out of M’Pa’s chest, took aim, and threw the weapon at Kire.


But what he didn’t see, was another hunter, not two seconds before, throw a knife into Kire’s thy. Kire stumbled slightly, not enough to be downed, but enough for the flying spear to sail safely over his shoulder, and head straight for El. Ver’On’s heart nearly stopped.






El had watched Ver’On and Kire fight with growing interest. The heat in her body just wouldn’t stop. She wanted the two to stop, for Ver’On to forget about gathering, forget about ritual, forget about the dozens of Yautja around the room. All she wanted was for him to touch her, to touch her the way he did that day the arrived at the space port. Why did she stop him then? She’d felt herself growing closer to him, why did she stop him?


Then there was Sol, if she could have castrated him she would have. Ver’On was about to make her feel what it was like to be with him. She remembered the feel of his warm breath on her skin, the strength in his hands, held in check by shear will alone, and his tusks. She’d seen him send the huge teeth at the ends of his mandibles at least half an inch into solid bone to break it during a meal, and yet he could tap them gently on her brow in a gentle kiss, knead her tender flesh to fevered need…and Sol had to come in and ruin it all.


Why? Why was this happening? Now of all times? The more she watched, the more she wanted to strip her dress away, and mold her body to his bulging muscles. To feel his massive hands caress her in places that tingled and ached.


M’Pa was in front of her now. God why was he getting in her face!!? He was saying something, but she wasn’t focusing on him. “SHUT UP AND GET OUT OF THE WAY!!” she shouted, pushing him to the side. He said something else, trying to make her look at him, but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t hear it, she wouldn’t turn away. Ver’On was the one she wanted, not him, not M’Pa. Why couldn’t he see that? “If you value what makes you a male, you’d get out of the way right NOW!” M’Pa growled at her, but he stepped down all the same. Grateful that he was gone, she watched Ver’On with renewed interest and need.


She could feel the sweat run down her spine, the dress she wore, suddenly far too warm for her to have on. She wanted to rip it off…no…she wanted Ver’On to rip it off. Tear it to shreds with his teeth and hands. Leave claw marks on her skin as he ravaged her. The heat in the pit of her belly began to boil. Was this what it was like to want someone? To want someone so badly that you’d strip naked in front of strangers? If this were true, they weren’t going to make it back to their quarters, hell they’d be lucky they make it out of the hall still decently dressed.


Kire had locked his arms around Ver’On’s from behind. She could see Ver’On’s eyes on her, his breathing intense. He wasn’t focusing on Kire’Baa, he was focused on her, standing there on the table, like a slave up for auction, and he the only bidder. How could she feel so over dressed? Ver’On refused to allow her to wear a bra any more, he’d cut up the only one she had left. He barely tolerated her underwear, and under her dress, that was all she had on.


God she wanted him. Wanted to know what it was that Lee’tha and Vaz had talked about to be impaled so deeply by their mates that it would knock the breath from their lungs just to have them gently thrust but once. She wanted to know what caused Zon to cry out, moan and sigh as she did behind Sol’s closed bedroom door. She wanted to know what it was that made Sol growl and grunt as he did, and then roar so loud in their quarters, she had to straighten the picture she’d hung on the wall of herself, Ralph and Mr. Com. She wanted to…yes…she wanted Ver’On’s baby, growing inside her, to know what it was to be the mother to someone’s child. Someone she’d gladly die for, and yes…if necessary, kill for.


Suddenly, Kire shifted his stance, turning Ver’On away. That’s when she saw the spear, lodged in the seating. Kire was going to kill him!! She wanted to scream, shout for Ver’On to throw his head back into Kire’s face, to make him let go! But no voice would come. Then, from out of nowhere, M’Pa crashed into the two combatants, with an opponent of his own. This knocked Ver’On and Kire into the seats, but…it sent M’Pa onto the spear instead. “NNNOOO!!!!” she found herself screaming, shocked at the spray of blood that erupted from beneath the shoulder padding on M’Pa’s back. She couldn’t believe it. Her heart sank like a rock, not just in her chest, but nearly to the pit of her stomach.


The kind tall male, who’d no clue how to woo a human woman, lay dying on a spear, haven saved, perhaps by misfortune, the male that she truly wanted. She thought about going to him, cradle his head in her lap, sooth him as he died. But her body wouldn’t listen to her mind. It was like she wasn’t there, and yet she was. Like watching a movie play out, one that was all too real. She watched Ver’On turn him over, praying deep in her heart, for the first time in her life, that Ver’On would know what to do.


She suddenly felt very cold. She couldn’t stop shaking. Her skin, she could feel, broke out in goose bumps, even in places that the hair should not be able to rise. What was it that she’d learned all those years ago in guides? Cold compress for burns…useless tid-bit now…splint for breaks…no that wouldn’t work…why wouldn’t her brain listen to her!?


She focused again on the two across the room, and she was shocked by what she saw. Ver’On pulled the spear out of M’Pa’s chest…he pulled it out of his chest…he pulled the object out of the wound!! NO!!! You weren’t supposed to do that! She wanted to scream, but there wasn’t any time. She watched as Ver’On threw the spear towards her…he threw the spear at her.


WHY!?


It was all so slow. She followed the trajectory of the spear, as it sailed across the room, and over Kire’s shoulder.


KIRE WAS HEADING FOR HER!!!


Had Ver’On tried to kill Kire’Baa, and miss!?


No. He would not have missed, if Kire had not stumbled.


Had he sent the spear to her to defend herself?


No, the spear was meant to kill Kire, now…now it would kill her. She saw Ver’On’s horrified eyes, as he realized what was happening, what was about to happen.


Then again…it is not advised lightly by the honored class to the unbloods to never, never, NEVER…underestimate the humans.
And Ver’On was about to find out why.


El watched the spear coming at her, it was about waist high, good and straight. If she timed it right, she could turn and it would sail right by her.


But then it would strike one of the unsuspecting Yautja behind her. NO! She wouldn’t let that happen. M’Pa already lay dieing from trying to protect her, this spear was meant to kill someone, and she’d make sure it did.


She flexed her hands, as the spear came closer, she turned to her left, as the bar of the staff came passed her body, she grabbed it as firmly as she could. God her hands were out of practice. She couldn’t stop it, she could feel it start to slide out of her hands. Then she had an idea. Why try to stop it, when she’d only have to put more force in it anyway to send it to her target. There was no way she’d be able to get the weapon passed Kire’s hands should he grab it.


M’Pa’s blood coated the end and her hands, Ver’On’s power had put the force into it to put an end to all of this, she just had to see it through.


She turned.


She directed the spear with her body, keeping the momentum and power it was given, and turned it…she turned it…right into Kire’s chest.






Kire never stood a chance. He never expected the spear…not in a million years. The last he’d seen of it, it was sticking through the back of that Ooman loving Yautja, M’Pa. How in the seven founders of the clan did it end up in the ooman’s hands? More to the point, how had she managed to impale him on it, with enough force to pierce his hardened metal armor? He looked down at his chest, where the spear had gone through. An odd sight met his eyes. The grip of the combistick was all that kept the spear from going straight through his body. He looked up at the Ooman, crouched on the table. She must have fallen over from the effort it took to throw the spear. But still. No Ooman alive had the strength to throw a combistick that hard.


She was shaking. She was terrified…he could smell it all over her, even on the spear itself. ‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘fear me Ooman, fear me and die!’ He raised his hand with his blade in it, he would kill her for sure…but he couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move? As he collapsed to his knees, he reached out for her, only managing to grab at the hem of her dress, tearing off a handful of it as he slumped to the floor. He could see those green eyes looking back at him, the green eyes of the Ooman, and something…something more.






Ver’On couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed. A roar of triumph went up in the hall so loud it shook the water pitchers still on the tables. Several Yautja from behind him, rushed over to help M’Pa, and urged Ver’On to go to his mate. He didn’t even look at the body of his grandfather on the floor, as he approached El, crouched on the table. She was shaking, and she reeked of fear. “El…” he sighed, still dumbfounded of what she’d done. “…its alright, My’El…it is over…” Carefully he thread his arms around her, lifting her from the table. Though the scent still hung heavy in the air, she no longer gave off her mating musk. In short, she gave off only fear. Gently he supported her in his arms, her legs unable to hold her up, and followed the other Yautja out of the hall, as they rushed M’Pa to the medical bay.






She couldn’t stand her legs just buckled beneath her. It took everything she had, and more to hang onto the spear and turn it around. Then she collapsed onto the table, unable to move, like someone had just switched off her legs.


Never had she heard of something like that being done…outside of cartoons of course. The physics was sound. If you grasped something that was moving and turned with it, to turn it in another direction, it was possible. She just never thought, in a million years, that she’d be able to do it.


Then again, she never thought she’d be able to kill anyone.


Only at the moment the spear cracked through the armor on Kire’Baa, did she realize what she’d done. She’d killed…she’d killed someone…she’d killed a living being.


How could she do that? What made her do it? Did she lose all touch with her senses?


It was wrong to kill, even among the Yautja. Then there were his eyes. She’d never seen eyes so full of hate and loathing as Kire’s, the moment he realized he could reach her. She had to move. Needed to move! But her body just would not listen! As she looked into his eyes, she saw the hate, the disgust for her. She watched, just inches from her face, the light in those golden hate filled eyes, go out…that’s when she realized she’d taken a life, and she just could not stop shaking.


Somewhere in the distance she heard the roar of thunder, and someone whispering her name. She couldn’t respond. She couldn’t get her voice to work. She felt strong arms surround her, lifting her to safety. She’d killed someone, how could someone care what happened to her?


M’Pa was either dead or dying. Ver’On would never look at her again after what she’d done. The clan would turn on her, worse so now than ever. Whoever held her must be taking her to her death, and without the strength to fight, she’d join the rest of her family…in death.


She screamed. She didn’t know where the sound came from, or how she was able to get even the sound to come out. She screamed. Long, and full of fear, her cry echoed off the walls. She screamed. If anything, she would be remembered as the human who deafened half a clan with her voice alone.






The lift was way too small, it wasn’t the number of Yautja that were in the small box that bothered him, it was El’s screaming that made the small space, all the more unbearable. The other Yautja were busy, trying to staunch the bleeding from M’Pa’s wounds. They paid no mind to El. Ver’On held her close, trying to calm her, but no matter what he said, she wasn’t listening.


The doors opened to the floor, and the hunters with M’Pa rushed out. He held back, trying to get El to calm down, but such a task seemed impossible. As he entered the med. bay, Ter’Oth was already hard at work on M’Pa. he only chanced a slight glance to the female in his arms, then turned back to M’Pa, waving to the back where he could take her to be alone.


Ver’On sealed the door to the back lab, and laid El down on the bed that had remained there from Lee’tha’s treatments. He lay down with her, pulling her to his chest. There had to be a way he could calm her. Her voice would give out if he didn’t. Just then another male came in, in his hands he held a small tray with medicine needles. Ver’On nodded, and held out her arm for him to administer the medicine. She screeched at the feel of the needle in her arm, but quickly fell silent.


Ver’On sighed. He never thought he’d ever feel grateful for El to be silent. He turned to the male. “Thank you,” he said.


“You’re welcome. I have to get back to Ter’Oth. He’s preparing M’Pa for surgery.”


“Will he live?”


“We don’t know…I’ll come back either way.” The male turned down the lights as he left, and Ver’On curled around El as the medicine took her deeper into sleep.






She’d killed…how could she do that? How could she live with herself now? How would others regard her? What would the say? Would the fear her? Would they send her to some awful prison somewhere? What would Ver’On do?


‘Too many questions…’ she thought. ‘Too many…please! Someone! Anyone! Help me!’


She sat bolt upright in bed, sending both Ter’Oth and Ver’On to the floor in shock. Had she really been asleep? What made her wake up? Where was she? More important…Why were Ver’On and Ter’Oth cursing, and she not able to understand them? They were talking, she knew that. Gentle growls, clicks and strange words came from each of them, but she couldn’t understand.


Her translator! Where was her translator? She tried to feel around her ear, and through her hair, but thick bandages holding her hands flat prevented her from using her fingers. Then Ver’On leaned over, drawing her attention to him, and holding up the device she sought. Gently he thread it over her ear. “There,” he said gently. “Is that better?” She nodded yes.


“Damdest thing I ever saw,” Ter’Oth stated. “You shot right up like a Z'skvy-de, scare the cloth nearly off me. What the hell is wrong with you?”


“Ter’Oth, go easy will you, she’s had a hell of a night.”


“What are you doing to my hands?” she asked, her throat scratching with each word.


“You broke several bones in the flat of your hand,” Ter’Oth began, continuing his interrupted work on her right hand. “You also dislocated two digits on your left, as well as three on your right. Both wrists are badly sprained, and…” he lifted the covers off her feet. “You broke your right ankle in two places, and tore the padding off the bottom of your left.”


“Wha – how? How did I do that?”


“Don’t you remember?” Ver’On asked, laying the blankets gently over her feet. El shook her head.


“I’m not surprised. You were in shock when Ver’On carried you in here. You were screaming at the top of your lungs, and your body temperature dropped three degrees.”


“Well…the screaming would explain why my throat is sore. Ver’On, what happened with Kire? Did you stop him?”


“No…El…I didn’t stop him…You did.”


“I…I did? How?”


“Don’t worry about that right now,” Ter’Oth offered. “Just get some rest. Are you in any pain?” El shook her head no. “You’re sure?”


“Yes.”


“Very well, I’m going to check on M’Pa. See how he’s doing.”


El suddenly started shaking, and before either male could do anything, she leaned over the side of the bed, and threw up. Ter’Oth laid several cloths over the bile, as Ver’On took her to the bathroom to wash her face. With her hands and feet bound up like they were, she couldn’t do anything for at least two days. She’d need help now, more than ever. He set her down on the counter, and wet a cloth. “I remember,” she gasped, coughing the bile from her throat. “OH GOD…VER’ON, I REMEMBER!”


“It’s alright El, it’s over…it’s all over.”


“I killed him…Ver’On, I KILLED HIM!!!”


“Yes, you did, spectacularly too. The ship is still talking about it.”


“What? Ver’On, don’t you get it!! I killed him! I turned that spear right into his chest! I DIDN’T CARE WHAT HAPPENED, AS LONG AS HE WAS DEAD! I KILLED HIM!!!” Ver’On held the cloth under her chin, as he poured a bit of water into her mouth. At the very least it kept her from screaming again, even if it did almost drown her.


“El, he was a bad blood. There would have been no honorable death for him. If you did not kill him, he would have killed you, and then others would have killed him. Either way, he wasn’t leaving the hall alive. None of us expected you to kill him. We hadn’t even considered it. Oomans can barely figure out how to operate a Combispear, let alone redirect a powerful throw like you did. How did you do that anyway?” El just looked at him, shock etched in ever muscle of her face. Wasn’t he…at the least…disappointed with her? “What?”


“I…I killed someone,” she repeated, as he wiped her face of the water, “…and I’m not going to get arrested?”


“Get what?”


“In trouble…with your…what did you call him, law keeper. I’m not going to be in trouble with your law keepers?”


“No. Why should you? You helped us uphold our laws. You exposed a bad blood, and you helped dispose of him. Why would that bring the arbitrators down on you?”


“I’m…I’m so confused.”


“Heal now, figure it out later.” Again he picked her up, and returned to the lab.


“I want to see M’Pa,” she sighed, but Ver’On just laid her down on the bed.


“Later,” he said. “The healing creams are taking effect. You need to rest to recover properly.”


“We’ll miss gathering.”


“No we won’t. Because of an elder’s death, the remaining elders have ordered a time of mourning. We have four days. I suspect you will be unconscious for most of it.”


“Will you wake me, if M’Pa dies?” Ver’On smoothed the hair over her head. It was still very early for M’Pa. He survived the surgery…barely, and was still very weak, the next few hours would tell.


“Yes,” he replied, tapping his tusks along her brow. “I will wake you.”