Predator: SVU

Title: Predator: SVU

Author: Prairiefire

Chapter: Five: Honor Returned

Fandom: Predator AU

Rating: M/R

Warnings: Adult Situations, Controversial Subject Material, Graphic Violence/Gore, Rape, Sexual Situations

Orientation: Het

Pairings: Human Female/Male Predator, Female Predator/Male Predator

Summary: Two hunters separated by species and lightyears are about to team up.

Disclaimer: I do not own Predator, nor do I make earn any monetary compensation for the stories I write that feature such characters. However, all my original characters are just that, original. That makes them mine, and they cannot be used without my express written permission.

Feedback: Please. I will respond to all signed reviews on ffn, aff

Word Count: 2761

Little Havana

Vek’rin’ka had scoured the city for a good part of the day. It was in an area that was rather rustic in appearance that he picked up the scent of another yautja. It was strong and fresh. There was no way it could have been left by anyone other than one of the two remaining Bad Bloods. The scent trail led through the neighborhood. Occasionally the spices the oomans used in their cooking would mingle with the scent of his quarry, but never did he loose the trail. Unerringly he followed the ever strengthening smell.

The scent led him through the neighborhood that was teeming with life. Many oomans inhabited the area and created a constant din in the evening air. Crossing roofs and alleys, Vek’rin’ka avoided detection as he traversed the community. Many of the buildings he ran on were abandoned. Little more than husks that provided nothing but to take up space. Others contained tightly packed ooman family units, many units to one building.

Closer to the source Vek’rin’ka’s mask registered the presence of yautja technology. Slowing his progress he pulled his spear from its place on his back and extended it. Moving so that he remained directly downwind of the other yautja he crept closer still.

The other warrior was just around the corner of a large, noisy machine on top of an ooman building. Vek’rin’ka checked the area before dropping his camouflage. Coming around the machine he spotted the Bad Blood Wrk’va watching something over the edge of the building. Alerting Wrk’va to his presence with a bark he brought his spear to the ready.

Startled, Wrk’va turned expecting to see his leader. His mandibles slackened behind his mask when he saw the Arbitrator standing there instead. He knew he had been caught at that moment and cursed Al’brk’vix vehemently. The Arbitrator did not give Wrk’va anymore time to think. While he was rather slow minded his fighting skills were par excellence.

Vek’rin’ka swung his spear and it connected with the back of Wrk’va’s knees. The blow sent him tumbling to his rear. He continued the roll intending to come up on his feet. Mid-roll while his stomach was still parallel with the roof top Vek’rin’ka hit him again. The shaft of the spear came down hard perpendicular to Wrk’va’s spine. The blow caused his muscles to spasm sending him flat-faced to the roof. The spear tip was swiftly at the back of his neck and Vek’rin’ka placed one foot firmly on Wrk’va’s back to prevent any escape attempts.

Wrk’va then realized, but would not admit, his defeat. In a final attempt to free himself he extended his ki’cti-pa and took a blind swing in the direction that he thought Vek’rin’ka’s leg was. Vek’rin’ka anticipated the last ditch effort and extended his own blades. Wrk’va’s wrist flailed as he tried to cut Vek’rin’ka’s leg. Vek’rin’ka swung his ki'cti-pa at the extremity and cleanly sliced through the gauntlet along with the flesh and bone.

Vek’rin’ka drove his ki’its-pa deep into the prone warrior’s shoulder. Using it to pin Wrk’va, Vek’rin’ka leaned his weight on it. A strangled cry escaped the Bad Blood as the blades cut through more of his flesh. He was loosing blood rapidly from his stump of an arm. Pain wracked his chest as Vek’rin’ka twisted his ki’its-pa.

Bending down to Wrk’va’s head Vek’rin’ka snarled at his captive, “I will show you m-di h’chak, Bad Blood, if you choose to force me to kill you.”

Wrk’va tried vainly to sound intimidating when he snarled back. The effort left florescent green blood on his face under his mask. It was followed by a fit of coughing that caused the barbed tip of the ki’its-pa to tear at more flesh in his chest. His strength was waning and his vision was clouding.

“Allow me a blade, to end the disgrace that I have cast myself into,” pleaded the pinned yautja.

Vek’rin’ka pulled his spear out of the injured shoulder and pulled Wrk’va into a kneeling position by his dreadlocks. The defeated warrior bowed his head once his hair was released and Vek’rin’ka stepped in front of him. Wrk’va reached for his dagger kept in a sheath on his hip. The ceremonial weapon was made of the exoskeleton of a kainde amedha and glinted black ebony. Inlayed into the handle was the name of his bloodline, a tribute that all yautja carried to honor those who were their ancestors.

The movement was brought up short by Vek’rin’ka’s ki’its-pa, “Mo.”

Wrk’va looked at the Arbitrator confused. Was he not going to be allowed to die with any honor? He cursed himself doubly for ever following Al’brk’vix, if only he had followed a better leader he would not be here trying to scrap up what little dignity was being afforded to him and having it denied.

“I will allow you to complete your death. First, however, I want information,” Vek’rin’ka calmly stated as he removed his spear from Wrk’va’s arm.

“What do you wish to know, Lord Arbitrator,” Wrk’va bowed his head deeply as he said this.

“The location of the ship you arrived in,” Vek’rin’ka said, “and the access codes.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Wrk’va said as he bowed even deeper. “The ship is concealed in an abandoned building near the shore of the great sea. A large gap in the roof provided entrance for the ship. The co-ordinates are stored in this,” he continued as he removed his wrist mounted computer and self-destruct device and laid it in front of the Arbitrator.

“What of the access codes,” Vek’rin’ka demanded with a growl.

“They are contained within the device as well. It will also provide you with the locations of Al’brk’vix’s traps,” Wrk’va told the Arbitrator. “Al’brk’vix has become paranoid. He tries to watch everything at once, but he ends up seeing nothing.”

Intrigued Vek’rin’ka probed, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“He has not noticed the teams of oomans that patrol the city. They follow us as if they can track our movements and our kills are cleaned up quickly. These oomans are too cunning to be normal prey; they know something about our presence,” Wrk’va insisted.

“I have noticed. One thinks that he can track me without repercussion,” Vek’rin’ka said as he thought of his future hunt. His initial classification of this yautja as being slow may not have been as correct as he thought. These oomans were cunning and tricky, and if this yautja picked up their tactics he must have not been as slow as the clan thought. “Is there anything else that you wish to confess before your death?”

“Al’brk’vix knows of your ooman female. He wishes to use her against you,” Wrk’va said to Vek’rin’ka.

Growling low in his throat Vek’rin’ka brought his ki’cti-pa to bear on the kneeling warrior’s throat, “And how does he know of her?”

“His shift suit,” Wrk’va supplied, “he modified it. It masks any out going signal and shields the body’s heat. It makes the wearer invisible to our vision.”

“So that was him on the roof two suns ago,” snorted Vek’rin’ka as he internally berated himself for allowing an enemy get that close to him.

“No,” Wrk’va snarled, “the coward would not test the changes himself. It was I on the roof with you, but I have not seen any of the changes he has made to the suit since then.”

Vek’rin’ka stood before the cowed yautja. Wrk’va continued to loss blood from his severed arm and holes in both front and back of his chest. Sheathing his ki’cti-pa, Vek’rin’ka reached for the blade strapped to Wrk’va’s side. Pulling it away from his body Vek’rin’ka studied the blade. Once the inspection was completed he handed it back to Wrk’va, handle first.

Nodding to the Bad Blood, Vek’rin’ka stepped back. Slowly, Wrk’va reached up and disconnected the hoses of his mask. Removing it, he placed it before him on the ground. Turning the blade in his hand, he regarded it. Never had he thought that the blade his mother had given him would be the one to end his life.

Vek’rin’ka watched as Wrk’va closed his eyes and placed the blade so that it would pierce his heart. Thrusting surely, Wrk’va plunged the blade through the bones that protected his vital organs. The obsidian blade cut past skin and bones and reached the muscle of Wrk’va’s heart. One gasp of breath and Wrk’va was dead, a small measure of honor replaced for facing his fate.

The body slumped to the side and blood from the seeping wounds spattered on the rotting roof top. Vek’rin’ka stepped forward to retrieve the computer and mask. One he would use to access the ship stolen by the Bad Bloods, the other, returned with the dagger to the mother of the one that died with honor. After securing the two items and stripping the body of any weapons Vek’rin’ka poured the dissolving agent used by Arbitrator’s on Wrk’va. This would make sure there was nothing left for anyone to find.

Once finished disposing of Wrk’va’s remains, Vek’rin’ka stood and surveyed the scene. Satisfied that nothing of yautja origin would be found if someone ventured onto the roof he picked up his bag containing the weapons that the liquid would not have broken down and departed. There was nothing left for him to do here, so he returned to his own ship to store the weapons and update his computer with the information he obtained from Wrk’va.

With the weapons stored and the ship secure in its hiding place Vek’rin’ka began his search for Al’brk’vix’s ship. The knowledge that Al’brk’vix could track him without him knowing it prickled in the back of Vek’rin’ka’s mind. The Bad Blood had one hell of an advantage and Vek’rin’ka knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to use it. As a result, Vek’rin’ka was constantly checking his surroundings. Catching himself, he shook his head. He wouldn’t be able to see Al’brk’vix anyway.

It was well past midnight when Vek’rin’ka reached the area indicated on Wrk’va’s computer. He expected to find a large rundown building that was falling apart. What he didn’t expect to find were several buildings in similar condition. The computer, however, would not give the exact location of the ship. Vek’rin’ka snorted in disgust. He would have to search every building, thus exposing himself to Al’brk’vix who could be anywhere. If nothing else, at least the computer was working properly thought Vek’rin’ka. If a warrior became disoriented the computer would show the general location of his ship or shuttle and the warrior would be able to find it on his own once he was in familiar territory. The computer would not give the exact coordinates to prevent that sensitive information falling into the wrong hands, like that of a rival clan or unthinkably, the hands of intelligent prey like oomans.

Moving on after checking the building he was currently residing on Vek’rin’ka looking into the distance. Rows upon rows of storage buildings spread to the horizon and behind him the city’s taller buildings rose into the sky. The search for the ship would take days. Even with the computer, the search area was huge.

After checking every building that seemed likely, Vek’rin’ka began his search in a less run down area of the same vicinity. This area was surrounded by what probably would have been a formidable barrier to an ooman. It was made of metal mesh and rose several noks above Vek’rin’ka’s head should he have been standing on the ground. The top was wrapped with bladed wire that added another nok to its height. Taking a running start to clear both the passage way between the barrier and building he was on, Vek’rin’ka jumped over the barrier and landed gracefully on the ground on the other side of the fence.

Moving swiftly, Vek’rin’ka climbed onto the nearest building where any passing oomans would not spot him. Methodically he checked every roof top for the hole that would admit a yautja hunting ship. As he worked his way closer to the shoreline that bordered this compound his mask registered the strobing of lights that was associated with the law keepers’ vehicles.

Abandoning his search for Al’brk’vix, Vek’rin’ka approached the area cloaked. Peering over the side of the building he spotted a group of armed oomans trying to enter several of the buildings. At the fore of the group he spotted a familiar heat signature. He moved from building to building until he was on the building that the familiar signature was at. It was the ooman female he had been observing earlier and she was trying to enter the building.

Vek’rin’ka observed the female as she tried to gain access to the building through the large bay doors. While watching her Vek’rin’ka wondered what she was doing. A quiet sound turned his attention away from his subject. It came from an open hatch on the roof of the building he was sitting on. Moving over to the open entrance Vek’rin’ka peer through.

Staging Area at Burns Shipping Main Gate

Detectives Hadley and MacKenzie finally reached the staging area where everyone was waiting for them. Delayed as they were by a belatedly delivered report they were anxious to find Kristen. Breaking to a halt by the group of other unmarked cars and regular cruisers, Cass and Gerold leapt from their car and made their way to the head of the group.

Turning to face the gathered officers Cass held up a blue folded paper, “We have a warrant to search the entire area. Every building is to be searched.”

The assembled party broke up into prearranged groups and began to sweep the buildings. Gerold went with a group of officers to the left as Cass and another group headed straight into the buildings. Supervising the officers as they cleared one building Cass thought over the report that she and Gerold had received. The report had contained a DNA analysis from each of the first three victims. Semen had been left on their clothing and was collected to be run through CODIS. The initial results yielded no matches to any known profiles. The medical examiner was going to run it through the military database. That was weeks ago and the results finally arrived. The results confirmed the suspect was none other than Gregory Burns.

In a surprising turn, the Dept. of Defense also included Burns service record. Whether it was a slip up or not it provided invaluable information on the suspect. Most of the information was blacked out, but the end was what was most interesting. It stated that Burns had been dishonorably discharged. He had apparently had a problem with women for a while.

While stationed at Fort Pacifica, Burns had a heated disagreement with a superior officer who happened to be female. Later that night, he had broken into her home and brutally beat and raped her. He was court marshaled and found guilty. After serving time in Leavenworth and passing a psychological exam he was released. Cass suspected that he expertly manipulated the psychologist who administered the exam since he was still victimizing females. The officer Burns attacked resigned from the military and moved to Colorado, closer to her family.

Cass’s team cleared the building and returned to her to search the next building. The team spread around the building to secure the exits. Cass cautiously approached the large vehicle doors and tried to pull the walk-through open. The hangar-type door was locked up tight. A member of her team reported that a side door was locked simply with a chain and pad lock. Bolt cutters were procured and used to open the door. As her team proceeded to clear the building Cass moved towards the next.

Approaching the front entrance Cass hears muffled noises coming from within. Breaking into a run Cass barreled the last remaining feet to the door. She grasped the latch on the door and pulled with all her might.

“Kristen! Kristen, honey, are you in there,” Cass called desperately as she banged on the door. The metal would not budge under the assault and the latch would not give. The noises became louder, distinctly plaintive cries. “Kristen, we coming for you. Hold on.” Speaking into her radio, Cass called, “I have something. Fourth warehouse from the main entrance. I need back up with a battering ram now.”