Let The Games Begin..

*~*~*~*~*

H’tch felt his heart jump in his chest when the female bared her teeth in what he knew now was a smile and rubbed her face against the back of his hand in what could only be happiness. If she had been a yautja female, she would have been on her back, despite the fact that they had company. The smile seemed to cave in on its self and the warm puffs of air against his chest that had being playing havoc with his senses and the tingling on his arm were suddenly gone.

Swift little female.

Standing with arms akimbo, and scowling at his younger brother and at any that were making disparaging remarks under their breath H’tch settled himself to watch. It seemed that he had made progress with the female if she was willingly touching him and initiating intimate and meaningful contact. Glaring at a particularly loud voice, he issued a snarl until the voice stopped and managed to turn his head back to catch the first move and wished he hadn’t.

Typical Di’Sha.

His little female had ducked underneath the thick corded muscle of his brothers arm and with a dainty move hooked her foot in front of his feet and with a joyful scream of “Tag!” sent him on his way to his first face plant. Rolling his eyes at his brother H’tch bit back a heckling comment that was itching to burst its way clear of his throat and instead swallowed his biting sarcasm.

The next move, if it was possible was worse than the first. Resting his face in his clawed hand, H’tch wondered if his father knew how stupid the youngest of his seed was as pale claw tipped hands wound their way into dread locked hair and yanked as they flew past, issuing another shout of “Tag.”

Di’Sha picked himself up and growled. He had heard his brother speak to the soft meat in its language and wondered if he would translate.

“Lucky shot, soft meat. You just wait until I get my claws round your throat...” Raising a mandible in mocking supplication at his brother, “.. And then see who calls ‘Tag’.”

It was going to be long sparing session.

~*~

Ripley was nowhere to be found. Neither was Hicks or Call. Probably having lunch, brunch or whatever chatting with the big wigs of this rig. Having found Johner and Hudson goofing off watching a few choice movies of their lost porno collection in their quarters Vasquez had great difficulty not sitting down with them and adding her own heckles to the dubious looking redhead doing outlandish sex acts on a sweating old man.

Slapping both of them upside the back of their heads and bringing them up to speed she was surprised at the speed that they were up and ready to go find their young team member, noting that Hudson picked up a knife and 9mm and Johner claiming his trusty moonshine cum shotgun flask Vasquez could of smiled. They looked like they would really try to stomp the shit out whatever got in their way.

It had taken fifteen minutes for Hudson to run a scan with his still fully fixed PDA when Ripley suddenly made an appearance. Gulping, Vasquez wondered how she should handle this.. ‘Hey mira, I got pissed off earlier and taking me literally the kid has gone off with the whatever they are that stuck me like a pig and rattled her brains.. yeah you know the tall one.. the one that looks like he could take apart a truck barehanded.

Yeah.. don’t grow an inner mouth and stick it in my head..’. Shaking her head knowing that being flippant wouldn’t be her best bet was about to explain when she was beaten to the punch.

“Gather everyone up. I want full diagnostic on all weapons, scanners and I was a welcome wagon rigged for immediate deploy. We’re going hunting..”

Pausing in her order, Ripley took the time to test the air.. Her child had not been here for a while, her scent was stale and looking around didn’t see her skulking in any of the corners. Facing them again, noting that Vasquez looked by far the guiltiest and raising an eyebrow at the blue movie on the monitor asked a question that she could tell the Latino and the dastardly duo were dreading.

“Where’s Chase…?”

~*~

A harder blow, harder than what was considered appropriate for the game of tag would of sent her flying if she hadn’t expected it – the thing rolling its shoulders and then pointedly sighting where he would lump her one also gave her a chance to fully avoid it but even through the blow glanced her shoulder, Chase shot back a few steps. There was a lot of snarling, clicking and roaring going on around her, everywhere she could see there was a thing staring back at her, shaking a balled up fist and doing their impression of catcalling.

Cocking her head she waited for ‘it’ to call ‘Tag’ which it didn’t do. It didn’t say anything it just splayed its arms again and did that whole in your face-roaring thing again. Stepping backwards a further step Chase mentally shrugged to herself; she couldn’t get punished if she accidentally broke something belonging to him could she? Couldn’t be blamed for a game of rough and tumble tag getting a bit heated and besides if things turned nasty there was a nice comfy air vent in the corner to her left and she would bet a whole box of peanut brittle that it would eventually lead her to somewhere familiar..

Blinking and staring at the fist coming towards her almost in slow mo, she dropped to her knees and with a flourishing pivot struck out with her left foot, almost smiling with satisfaction when the heel half embedded itself in the things kneecap. A quick bend, flip, crunching motion here, and a little nippy zippy move here.. Just wrap my hands round its throat, maybe dabble with pressing claws into the windpipe again and guess what I’m doing?

Reliving the time I first knocked you on your ass. Idiot.

The baying of the crowd had gotten louder when Chase had sunk to her knees and sat on the it, attempting to pin it in place with her weight on its butt, while looping her arm round its neck in a good natured and friendly attempt to half suffocate it. She spared a nanosecond to look at the ‘Heetch’ and he was where she had left him. She couldn’t be sure but she thought she saw a conflict of approval and disapproval it his strange featured face.

H’tch smiled in his own way – his little brother was over confident and didn’t or wouldn’t understand that his movements lacked the finesse of a proven hunter, despite his muscle growth it was useless unless he knew how to use his body to his advantage. He, himself had called every single move Di’Sha had used to the delight of the spectators. His unblooded friends were baying across from him, lifting their voices like savages with their encouragement and he did not doubt that if he or at least a greater contingent of blooded and worthy elder hunters had not been present they would of all attempted to swarm his brave little knife.

He had seen the way the female seemed to shake off the handful of blows that she had received and wondered from the way she moved it she chose to take them or if she could of avoided them as easily as he could of. Eyeing the way she had backwards straddled his younger brothers hips and was now applying pressure to his windpipe H’tch felt in a small way, envious of his brother at that movement, envy at the thought that it was his brothers skin that would feel the pressure of this particular females thighs, squeezing.

Looking to the left of him, he was further amused to see six or so females also among the crowd, namely the female that his brother had pointed out as one day having the honor of baring his seed. She didn’t look like she would be very honored at the moment, he laughed to himself. Her mandibles were splayed in amusement and every now and then she would shake her locks over her shoulders and bark with laughter.

“Put it down.”

The yelling and howling suddenly stopped. The yautja closest to him parted after spotting the owner of the ooman voice. It was the alpha female of their strange new additional family.

Ripley strode closer to where her daughter was half sat and half strangling a youngish looking alien. Lips twitching in amusement at the picture; of course she would find the training decks a desirable place to go.

The company.. was surprising.

Eyeing the easily seven foot plus alien that had stepped closer to her young when she had ‘dismounted’ her prey and even more shockingly laid a hand on her daughter shoulder. Even more shocking was that this feat was allowed – Chase disliked these beings; their link proved this. Even she saw them as rivals in a way. They hunted what she promised to wipe from existence.

Xenomorphs. Aliens. Bugs.

Tilting her head she concentrated on her child – she was her mother in everyway despite the fact that she was a conscript. DNA merged and formed into perfection. She was not Amy and nor was she Newt… Rebecca. She was hers. Reaching out through the link she informed her child of their intentions. They would hunt and she would take place beside her when they went fully into the hive and they would leave nothing alive. For the benefit of their audience also thought it wise to speak. It would not do to arouse suspicion.

“LV49-17.They are there. Prepare.”

Chase felt the link invade her mind and could of died from the sudden surge of energy that started to pump into her body. They were heading for another infestation..

Another hive with drones.

Stupid drones for her to kill.

With a low hiss leapt forward and running full tilt ran straight past her mother heading with sure steps to the hold that housed the Betty, where the others would be getting their things together.

She would finally get a change to stretch her legs!

~*~*~*~*

The clicking and growling was the second thing that ticked her off. It was like sitting next to a pack of snarling dogs and despite the fact that Vasquez thought of herself as a ‘bitch’ there were limits and she had almost reached hers. With a growl in her throat she turned to the nearest culprit and flinging a finger in its face, hissed at it in fury.

“If you don’t can it buddy you and I will be having private words…”

Narrowing a death glare at the now silent pack of hunters she turned back to priming weaponry. She didn’t miss the way the kid’s admirer gave a severe glare followed by a motion with its hand. She’d said it before but seriously the men of whatever race they were, were seriously pussy whipped. She liked it. Sliding a calloused hand along the silky casing of a 9mm she gave it and its twin a once over. Ripley’s instruction had been clear, The Kid would now be packing not just a blade or two she would be carrying live guns and whatever ammo could be stuffed into her grubby combat pockets.

Eyeing a snickering Hudson she gave him a sardonic smile followed by the bird. Cocky little fucker will be pissing his pants soon enough. It wasn’t a hive they were visiting. A small outpost in the middle of no where cultivating the black sons a bitches, probably a smallish army guarding them and probably no more than six of eight of the xeno’s probably in some intricate holding being adoringly looked after by the boys in white.

The small army would probably be mostly made up of synthetics each with their directives fucked to shit and each with a bullet with names on them. Rolling her eyes at the hulk of alien that was once again practically foaming at the mouth and dancing around like he sat on an anthill Vasquez fought the urge to yell at him again. Gritting her teeth instead she signalled for Chase to come closer.

As expected the six that were the noisiest immediately shut the fuck up and stared. There seemed to be a lot.. A swift head count confirmed it, fifteen of the fuckers. Well they could be useful in the eventuality that a bug was snapping at her ass. They got in the way, collateral damage. Another small smile creased her lips. Even through she guessed that she would be in trouble later for letting the kid wander around by herself, well not by herself but details; she caught the end of the conversation between Hicks and Ripley.

She had been playing ‘Tag’ with them. What she wouldn’t have given to see that.

Being in need of a few hours here and there of sleep made teaching the kid things very easy. Data disks, headphones and a monitor followed by a quick fleeting run through the next day was pretty much all the input any of them had in the basic handling of firearms and self defence. Grinning wider at the memory of the Kids first face plant on Johner had her also chuckling to herself.

“These are my babies. No gripping them too hard, I know how you fidget with your paws, Diablo.”

Patting them and with an exaggerated mournful sigh she lifted the holster and motioning for Chase to lift her arms slipped the leather straps over her shoulder and then fastened the clips across her stomach. Giving that a poke at the blank expression and grinning at the swift blink followed by rapid blinking reached out and tweaked the button nose.

“Vriess has some other toys for us to try up front so lets leave these hombres to do their own lock and loading, hey?”

A soft clicking had Vasquez’s eyes rolling again and slamming a foot against the metal underfoot and spinning round theatrically death glare in place, hands low slung on her hips stared at each of them.

Silence.

“That’s what I thought…”

Following the dismal lighting stepped into the corridor made her way along it until she heard the crap music choices that Johner always played before going after bugs. Little Richard’s ‘Long Tall Sally’ was not one of her favorites.

~*~

The harness was unfamiliar but it didn’t feel like it would get in the way of her blades, the longest already adorning her shoulder. She probably should of followed Vasquez but she felt rather than saw the Heetch’s eyes on her the entire time. After the game of tag he had come calling and despite displaying nonchalance had picked up on snippets of what he was communicating until the greying one that was as big as he was joined him.

The point of it she guessed was sharing information, and it was later settled that a small contingent including the Heetch would be coming along. She had been draped over Johner’s shoulder at the time and he had mumbled under his breath about how sometimes revenge was a bitch that served ass cold. The wording was strange and she wasn’t sure exactly what he meant but she had grinned at him and snuggled closer. Johner whistled at something that she obviously missed and when she glanced up eyed the now stiffened H’tch who had almost angrily turned away.

Curious.. He had never once displayed emotion before, seeming to almost be like the mother.

Again he was staring, probably wondering why she hadn’t followed Vasquez. Leaning against central platform that was obviously made for either sitting or placing things on Chase slid her arms round her knees after she had hiked them and stared back.

~*~

H’tch was aware that he might of committed some social faux pas by ooman standards when he uttered a growl at the sight of the female he wanted to claim for himself ‘snuggling’ with another male. No matter that he knew that the male was not her mate as he had first thought more like an elder sibling he had not been quiet or quick enough to stop not only his father but the alpha female and the alpha male from noticing.

The male Johner noticed and did the baring of teeth that he knew was a smile and not a challenge and shrugged his shoulders. It was maddening. The completely oblivious look that said female levelled at him after his slip calmed him somewhat as did his father muttered instruction. A few moments later the meeting, despite the language barrier that was aided by the translators that assisted with the more intricate ooman language he made himself march away and sought relief.

The female was faceless to him, the musk was scentless and the touch was hollow. It wasn’t the yellow eyes of the female below him wide with pleasure that he saw beneath him as he speared her slick depths, it was his little knife that was writhing in abandonment, skin slick with sweat and sweet moans teasing his ears. It was that vision that sent him over the edge and found him relaxed.

It surprised him later how much he minded the stares the little knife got. His brother muttered angrily at the majority of his friends that levelled hungry looks at the ooman females, perhaps wondering if they were easier to crack than the females of their own race. The sly body contact that she had initiated piqued his interest into an almost feverish state. Like the majority of females she had used her wiles to get what she wanted and he sincerely wished that she would use the same tact the next time she wanted something from him. Like right now..

The little female was currently sat next to his hunting case and was matching his stare. Standing and snarling at the two young bloods that barred his way H’tch strode to the raised platform and activated opening mechanism to his case, having watched the oomans ready their weaponry prepared to activate his own. Staring at her from the sides of his eye and noticing when she wriggled slightly and leant over his shoulder obviously curious at what he was removing. He removed his spear, wrist blades, headgear and other assorted armaments carefully placing them down beside his curious little knife.

Looking up H’tch sensed the humor of his comrades and with a huff glared at the young bloods that were practically biting their tongues off at the sight of him so close to an ooman female and hot being hissed at or threatened in anyway. The feisty small one took pleasure in hissing and spitting at the males that circled her at every opportunity and was not afraid to use her fists or a well-aimed kick to get her point across. The alpha was cold and indifferent and the other small slight female kept to herself.

He reached out and curled his fingers around his bakuub spear and in a flourish of movement whirled and extended it in a single move and stanced, poised with the tip of his spear ready to pierce an enemy or be slung. He eyed her, looking for interest or boredom and wondered if ooman males displayed their potential in this way or if it was really a long arduous task of wooing with pretty words. He splayed his mandibles slightly in amazement when the little female daintily hopped off the platform and ran a small digit along the smooth tip of his spear and then looked down at his wrist blades, his shoulder cannon.

He sensed that this was curiosity mixed with what he gathered to be professional interest; he had seen the still images of the ooman clan standing round downed Kainde Amedha and other assorted prey and had appraised their own weaponry with gleaming eyes. Females of the Yautja hunted but the majority gave up the pursuit after a few years of adult hood, seeming to be content with being fawned over the males and breeding.

The female before him cocked her head suddenly and it appeared that she had perhaps said something. Having not caught it H’tch shook his head and mimicked the head cock.

“…say.. Something, little knife..?”

The female blinked at him and then as he had reached for a weapon. Her hands went to her shoulders and unslung two lengthy bladed shafts and twirled them before presenting them. The left was shorter and he could see his reflection in the face. The one in her right was longer and had a serrated edge and every now and then there were slight bubbles along the gleaming shaft hinting at what they were used for. Long knives. They suited her style; lithe, quick but he knew that there were reserves of power.

The way she bended metal and how she attacked the holding pen when she first woke up were prime examples and there was of course how easily she managed to down Di’Sha and a few others. An enigma as he himself had tested the largest male, Johner’s strength and it was nowhere near. The little knifes mother has also displayed such strength.

“You should acquaint ‘your’ female with the business end of your spear, elder.”

Di’Sha’s irritating voice broke into his quiet musing and not bothering to restrain his anger, H’tch spun round and with a practised push sent his brother skidding back along the line on his back.

“Maybe I should ‘acquaint’ you, dear brother with the business end instead.”

Taking a forceful step and growling low but constant tone splayed his left arm and motioned to the irritating snot. Yes, this female was his, even if she herself or the others of her clan didn’t know it yet. He always got what he wanted and he was sure in the end she would willingly participate.

Di’Sha stood to his full height and pointed a long clawed finger in front of him. Snarling and hissing in defiance which was quickly extinguished when the little knife was suddenly gone from his side.

“Ha! Maybe elder brother you shouldn’t worry about me and instead worry about what will be left of that monster when it tangles with the hard meat. Not that it should be allowed to hunt anyway.”

“That ooman knocked you on your ass, you Pauking pustule and maybe you should remember that before pissing off your brother.”

H’tch quirked a smile as a welcomed voice made itself known in what could of ended up as a brawl.

Aa’Ro.

H’tch grinned wider when the young blooded and unblooded warriors stepped aside and chattered with excitement that they usually used around him.

“I leave on a scouting mission and I come back to be told that I missed what was according to hearsay a very distracting adventure. Ooman hunters. Spitfire females that exude such a pleasing scent.”

Aa’Ro stepped forward and grasped H’tch shoulders with both hands, an embrace that H’tch returned with relish.

“I see you have your eye on a particular female already..”

“Hn..”

Di’Sha and his unwelcome comments, comments that he knew she did not understand but was sure that they caused her to vacate his side were forgot at the teasing tone and laughing eyes that belonged to his best friend.

“Come, Show me the rest of this new addition to our hunting party and if I am not mistaken, soon to be clan.”

~*~

H’tch did not miss the way Aa’Ro’s eyes brightened at the sight of the little knife and noticed with satisfaction that she barely glanced in his direction before starting the little fidgety dance that she did when bored. He also noticed that his friend stared more than what was considered polite at the small waspish female that like his little knife was adorned with weaponry and cast dark looks in their direction.

H’tch and Aa’Ro continued to chat in their own language quickly bringing the other up to date with the others exploits, including the forth coming Kainde Amedha hunt that they were currently rocketing through space on a scouting cruiser to complete.

Aa’Ro grinned appreciatively when the dark female that was strapping armour to herself turned and gave him what he guessed was a warning look. She gave it every time he and H’tch conversed and he wondered if she found their language disruptive, the long sounds and wails that made up a greater percentage of the ooman language made his head hurt when he hunted among them. Giving her the equivalent of a yautja smile with a little added come on he was further amused when the female raised a hand and flicked her middle finger.

The ooman males that were leaning against support cages were laughing, enjoying the female’s slight discomfort and black mood. His translator helped him understand the conversation.

“…Yo Vazzie he think you hot, man.”

“…hey you put your foot up there, man you gonna lose it. Who knows if they have assholes anyway, man!”

“Hudson why don’t you shut your trap before I lose my foot up ‘your’ asshole, Pendejo! And you can shut the fuck up Johner unless you want me to tell Call that it was you that downloaded that Virus that crashed the A.I… “

The fiery female stalked past her clan’s males and started circling the taller female that H’tch had made a claim on. Aa’Ro was a connoisseur of the female flesh and despite the warning glance that H’tch gave him also stepped forward when the one known as ‘Vazzie’ flicked a switch on some grey device flooding the compartment with some pulsating beat and leaned back to unhook a line of wire from the taller females form and started to do the same fidgety dance like movements that the former was doing.

“It’s some kind of dance.. Very enticing. Their own males seem to be immune to it but I had the pleasure of seeing it when they were fixing their vessel. No Yautja female moves the way they do.”

Aa’Ro growled a little at the display, it was one of his fantasies, two females and him and he wondered if these two would oblige him as the Yautja he had approached had reacted with violence instead of curiosity. He picked out some of the words that frequented the beat.

‘Relax’ ‘Take Your Time’ and ‘Infinity’.

The snakelike movements were pleasing as were the lewd pelvic thrusts that screamed repression and at least a few cycles of denial. The pleasing scene was interrupted when another female walked through the cockpit doors; this one also petite but this one had no expression on her face, a complete blank canvass. He saw H’tch stiffen as she placed herself between the females and them and wondered at the still blank expression, no hint of anger or censure appeared on her features or displeasure. She soundlessly pulled out a strange shaped liquid carrying device and the fiery female gave a squeal of excitement.

“And that one?”

“Appears to be the clan healer. The Alpha female is assisting with vectors and piloting as is the elder male, he appears to be very venerated and isn’t allowed to walk anywhere or fight, they protect him way we do our esteemed elders.”

“Hmm. A very interesting clan. Young females with males and no attachments, an elder of possibly numerous battles of such magnitude.. I came back just in time. I could run interference if you think your female will be receptive to a pre hunt tussle…”

H’tch snorted and shook his head.

“Oblivious. To a young male it would appear playing hard to get but I know better. I doubt she has yet attained her full growth by the way she is coddled but she is old enough to use her wiles. Oh yes, Aa’Ro they have wiles and if you are lucky enough to be on the receiving end I assure you that even you would be cured of your roving eye.”

Aa’Ro remained silent and began to pick out words of the conversation that was now being had between the females.

“I don’t like how any of them look at us, especially that one. He stares at us too much for my liking.”

“Mira, he could of killed her but.. who knows. He acts like a little lost puppy… Ripley said he was very protective when she found Chase playing tag yesterday.”

“I don’t care. They aren’t pets. They kill humans like us.. well you. For fun for chrissakes and you and the rest think that they are good ol’ boys.”

A soft but high-pitched voice chimed in, H’tch’s claimed female little did she know.

“Not so bad.”

The new female faced her and snorted, “Not bad. You hated them more than I did and now look at you. He takes you for a walk, plays tag and your suddenly treating him like you would Hicks and the fuck face brothers.”

“Hey bucket o’ bolts. Watch who your calling ‘Fuck Face’. I can hear you over that racket you know.”

“Fuck you Johner.”

Aa’Ro quirked a smile as the male called ‘Johner’ beefier and taller than the others took to his feet and got in the females face and spoke in such low tones that none of it could be worked out. Whatever it was must have been good because the fiery female threw her head back and laughed long and hard as the male was sent to his back with a very angry females hand wrapped round his throat.

“All I have to do is squeeze…”

The doors slid open again and the female dropped the male with a snarled word.

H’tch pointed. “That’s the alpha female”.

~*~

Ripley strode in having picked up the gist of what was happening through the link. She searched for the cause and digressed that Call still had doubts about this hunting business. She was not opposed to using the new friends, she even hinted that she would prefer them to enter the fray first, taking on the synthetics and possibly free aliens. It would have been hard to explain that to ‘them’.

They were at first amused by the claim that she and her crew killed the aliens, the amusement swiftly became shock and then after showing them some still imagery and the trophies that Call made of the odd alien tongue here and there became a need to see it in action. Oomans as they called us, fighting what they considered the ultimate prey.

She had noticed that the big hunter H’tch had taken a shine to her child but knowing that she would not be receptive even to a human put her mind at ease; at least for the moment. If Chase did become attracted when she stopped growing and they were still in this mess then she would worry about it. Johner, the big ape was flat on his back with Call slowly squeezing his throat in one appearingly frail looking hand with Hudson, Hicks and some Yautja looking on.

Raising an eyebrow at the one that she had never seen before tapped Call on the shoulder and then strode to the numerous weapon cases that were left here, there and everywhere retrieving the small but nuclear cleansing device that Hudson had designed and affectionately called ‘No chance In Hell, Babeh’.

“Five minutes. Johner, stop embarrassing yourself, suit up. No signal beacon. Appears deserted but we have been there before. Scan indicates twenty to thirty aliens. Can’t get a fix on any humanoids or synths but they are sure to be there. Let these guys do what they do but take care of business. Hicks, Hudson first wave. Stick close to those guys but if in doubt retreat. Vasquez, you and Johner left and back. The head guy tells me that they will scope first and then move in. Again, doubts retreat.”

Ripley moved closer to her daughter and rested a hand on her messily arranged hair. ‘And you, little monster no heroics. Stay with them but do not be afraid to leave these aliens if the team is in danger or if there is no way. Stay out of the hive if there is one.’ Ripley rubbed her fingers over a cheek and then strode back to command having slipped on the communicator.

~*~*~*~*~*