Predator: SVU

Title: Predator: SVU

Author: Prairiefire

Chapter: Nine: Extended Working Vacation

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: 2845

Arriving at the ship Vek’rin’ka made one last scan of the area. Satisfied that no one else was around he opened the hatch to the concealed ship. He entered directly into the small bridge and moved over to the communications consol. Finding the download interface he removed the memory disk from his wrist computer. Vek’rin’ka listened as the computer hummed to life and began to download the audio and visual recordings made since he had landed planetside.

Vek’rin’ka turned his attention away from the downloading computer and activated the transmitter. He shifted restlessly at the station as the signal was sent to the Council of Elders on the mother ship. The small bridge of Vek’rin’ka’s ship seemed to grow smaller as he waited for a response. Vek’rin’ka had not decided how to tell the Elder Hin’lig that his daughter’s killer was still alive. The warrior monitoring the incoming transmissions acknowledged the hail and the classified communication was routed straight into the council chamber.

The seven elders had been previously assembled in the great hall to deal with another dispute. The two parties in disagreement had filled the room with their aggressive h’sui’se. The pheromones added to the atmosphere of suppressed anger created by the pulsing orange glow of the walls. When the communication terminal signaled its activation the quarrelers were quickly dismissed from the chamber as well as the gallery of Honored Warriors that lined each side of the room. The three aged males returned to their seats on the raised platform after physically separating the two would be fighters. The female balance of the council waited impatiently to proceed with the incoming report.

At the command of the council leader a large holoscreen flickered on between two pillars opposite the raised platform of the Elders bench. Slowly the three dimensional image of one of the Setg’-in Clan’s most skill Arbitrator’s resolved into view.

“Greetings Honored Elders of Clan Setg’-in,” Vek’rin’ka formally opened with.

After a momentary lag High Eldress Sytra’ti, leader of the Council of Elders responded, “Greetings Arbitrator. What news have you to report.”

“I report that three of the Bad Bloods are thei-de. The Blooded Warrior Wrk’va has chosen to regain his honor. He went to his u’sl-kwe by his own blade.” Vek’rin’ka’s voice deepened as he described the dispatch of the two UnBlooded. The disgust projected into his voice as he said, “The two UnBlooded that were not worth their names were defeated easily by my hand. Neither made a worthy trophy.”

“And what of the Bad Blood, Al’brk’vix,” demanded Hin’lig as he restrained himself from cursing Vek’rin’ka for not reporting in sooner. He was the sire of the slain Shalna, his youngest daughter, and he wanted vengeance. Part of him hoped that Vek’rin’ka would have captured the Bad Blood alive and returned him before the council so that he himself could rip Al’brk’vix apart with his bare claws.

A series of clicks signaled that the entire council was waiting on the answer to the question. Their eyes bored into Vek’rin’ka as he kept his focus steady ahead. He stopped the urge to shift on his feet as he prepared for the response of the council. Undoubtedly Hin’lig would be furious that Al’brk’vix was still loose.

“His fate has yet to be resolved,” Vek’rin’ka briefly stalled as he waited for the elders’ response. Excepting for a few sideways glances at Hin’lig there was none. “He has proven cowardly and has fled at every encounter with the aid of corrupted technology that prevented my tracking of him.

“He is, however, injured and will be dealt with shortly. The technology that permitted him to hide so well has been destroyed and he is now stranded on this planet. I have commandeered his craft and will be using it to return with proof of his death and my victory.”

There was silence as the council contemplated the meaning of what Vek’rin’ka had said. Rarely would anyone use anything that had been employed by a Bad Blood. It would have disgusted any Honored Warrior to have to sink so low as to use the leftovers of dishonorable s’yuitde. “What is wrong with your ship, that you must use something defiled by a Bad Blood,” a grizzled old male elder asked patiently.

Pausing to think of how to explain concisely what had prompted such a move Vek’rin’ka simply stated, “I used it as bait to draw the Bad Blood out at our last confrontation, destroying it in the process.”

“That was a risky maneuver,” a female elder said. Her tone was matter-of-fact and cool. Vek’rin’ka internally bristled at the rebuke. She was addressing him as if he were a young pup who didn’t think about the consequences of his actions.

“If you had not gained control of the vessel you would have been stranded on that planet until the next Hunting party arrived,” the old grizzled male inserted before Vek’rin’ka could form a response. Fortunately, the interruption gave him enough time to regain his senses and not sound disrespectful to the female elder when he replied.

“That is true. It was a calculated risk though, for I knew the disgraceful yautja would not be able to resist my trap.”

“And if you had been stranded could you evade capture until the next Hunt, young one,” High Eldress Sytra’ti asked. There was the unmistakable note of concern in her voice as she spoke. “The oomans are becoming persistent in their attempts to gain our technology.”

“Many warriors have met the Black Warrior on that planet,” a gravely voice from the end of the bench informed. “What makes you think you are any better than those warriors?”

“I am still alive,” Vek’rin’ka stated boldly drawing his shoulders back as a bit of arrogance surged through him. There was a unanimous hiss from the council before Vek’rin’ka realized the implications of what he had said. Humbled he quickly added, “My apologies to the honorable council. It was not my intention to disrespect the Honored Warriors that have fallen here.

“But the oomans are being foolish. They are nothing that a good Hunter can not deal with,” Vek’rin’ka assured. “The Hunters that have fallen have done so because they stay in one area too long and become over confident. They over hunt one small territory and have no knowledge of the areas surrounding it so that they may either regroup, or attack from a different angle. It is less the oomans that kill our warriors, than our warriors’ over confidence.”

“Do you have anything else to report,” the same grizzled old male elder from before asked.

Now was the time for Vek’rin’ka to explain to the council what he had found on Earth. “I have nothing else official to report, but I would ask the Council’s permission to stay on this planet for a while,” Vek’rin’ka requested.

“Do you plan on taking a few trophies once you have finished with Al’brk’vix,” Sytra’ti asked. To many yautja Vek’rin’ka was a little strange. He had given up the Hunt fairly young to become an Arbitrator. He had mentored under his father since he had been an UnBlood. Not only had he learned the letter of the law, but the spirit of it as well. While it was a highly honorable position it had cost Vek’rin’ka. Arbitrators’ busiest time for Bad Bloods often seemed to be during the breeding season leaving them little time to produce their own offspring no matter how many females would have accepted them as partners. Sytra’ti thought of the number of pups he had sired and how it was small compared to other Hunters his age. With only thirty-two sucklings at 120 rotations old, Vek’rin’ka was far behind. If he obtained a few more ooman skulls, females may be more aggressive in seeking his seed.

“I have actually found an interesting hunt I wish to observe the ending of,” Vek’rin’ka informed the council. “It is an ooman Arbitrator hunting one of their own Bad Bloods.”

“Why would this interest you,” Hin’lig questioned. He silently fumed that the Arbitrator was wasting time watching an ooman instead of tracking the Bad Blood he had been sent after.

“Could it be you are planning on hunting the victor of that Hunt? Either one of the skulls would bring you much honor and attract the attention of many females during the next breeding season,” Sytra’ti probed.

“No, I would not. The Arbitrator is female. Not only that, she has a dependant youngling. It would not be honorable to Hunt her. The other is a Bad Blood who commits his crimes on younglings. It has been difficult to restrain myself from killing him, but he is not my prey, and I do not wish for a trophy from him,” Vek’rin’ka said while he conveniently left out the part about him interfering in the rescue of the young female.

“I do not wish to dirty my blades or my wall with the blood or skull of a coward,” Vek’rin’ka continued. “As that is what he surely is since he preys only on the young.”

“So why does this hunt interest you so much,” Hin’lig demanded, agitated that the Hunt for his daughter’s killer was being rivaled by an ooman hunt.

“It is a curiosity,” Vek’rin’ka responded calmly. “I merely wish to see the outcome to satisfy my own curiosity.”

“Just remember that curiosity can be dangerous. It can blind you to danger that approaches from the opposite direction,” Sytra’ti warned.

“I have it well restrained, Elder. It will not interfere with the Hunt for the Bad Blood,” Vek’rin’ka explained. “Though it may have actually led me to my next ooman trophy.”

“Very well,” the leader of the council said speaking for the first time. “May your Path lead you to much glory and honor.”

Vek’rin’ka reciprocated the traditional closing before disconnecting from the signal. The computer he had been using to download the recordings had gone quiet. With the opportunity to review the data Vek’rin’ka settled into the pilot seat. Casually he flipped through the new files. There was little that managed to attract any prolonged attention. Curiously one word kept recurring in reference to the female. “Cass.”

It could have been her title, but the youngling referred to her as “cass” as well. Vek’rin’ka doubted that the child would refer to the female with such formality in private even if she did in public. Add in that none of the other ooman Arbitrator’s were referred to as such. He had heard them addressed as “detective,” “officer,” and one specifically as “captain.” Ruling out “cass” as her title that left one other possibility.

It could be her name. It would make sense that even oomans possessed a way to identify each other verbally. These were not stupid animals as some less open-minded Hunters thought, and quite a few dead ones would never know. Oomans were some of the most cunning prey sought by a Hunter. If nothing else, Vek’rin’ka thought to himself, it would provide a reference for himself to distinguish her from any other ooman female, like the female eta, in the recounting of this hunt.

Then there was the question about the child. Why was she in the care of the female, Cass? Were they related to each other? Yautja females would take care of their mother’s, sister’s etc, children if they were orphaned. It was, however, often stigmatized and treated as an outsider even within the family. Rarely were they completely accepted into the family such as this pup seemed to be. Was it because this Cass had no offspring of her own?

Thinking about the subject caused even more questions to surface while answering few. Vek’rin’ka grew frustrated at the lack of answers and decided to find out once and for all the relationship of the two females. He would have to find a way to collect a viable DNA sample from each of them. That would determine at least if they were from the same bloodline.

The test was simple enough and Vek’rin’ka had the medical computer on his ship that could perform such a test. Too bad this was not his ship. He would have to check the medical bay of this ship to see if it had such a computer. His original ship was by no means a top of the line Elder’s vessel but it was not a scrap heap either. That medical computer was installed in most solo and pack ships that had been upgraded in the last hundred cycles.

Rousting from the chair, Vek’rin’ka moved down the corridor to check what the ship was equipped with in the way of medical equipment. He was slightly disappointed when he found that the ship did not have a medical bay. It was clearly a solo ship. There was the bridge in the fore of the ship with a corridor leading down the center to a large kehrite. On one side of the corridor was, of course, the private quarters Vek’rin’ka had already claimed. There was only one set on the ship. The other side of the corridor was the bathing room with a separate lavatory. At the end of the corridor was the kehrite. It was undoubtedly the largest room on the ship, and it was where Vek’rin’ka found what passed for medical facilities on this ship.

It was little more than a computer console mounted flush with the wall and a compartment underneath that most likely held various healing and bandaging supplies. It definitely suited the rest of the spartan ship. The entire design of the vessel was practical for a solo hunter. Vek’rin’ka all ready knew the lower deck contained only storage room and the engine compartment. How the four Bad Bloods had managed to share such a ship for any length of time made Vek’rin’ka wonder, perhaps they were all h’ulij-bpe as well as dishonorable.

Abruptly he grumbled at yet another question forming. Surveying the ship was supposed to help answer questions, not create more of them. Vek’rin’ka made his way over to the computer and activated the interface. He scrolled through the functions and found what he wanted. The computer was capable of performing the test he needed.

Vek’rin’ka shut down the computer as it was no longer needed. Turning around he surveyed the rest of the kehrite. It was a large room with a weapons rack on the wall opposite the door, the effect being to show off the owner’s weapons at first glance. Scattered skulls of various indigenous animals told Vek’rin’ka that the Bad Bloods had been hunting more than just oomans. They were of various shapes and sizes. There were of course ooman skulls, as well as some canid ones and a medium-sized felid one.

A long skull with a long muzzle caught Vek’rin’ka’s attention. It was large and broad. Large, strong teeth protruded from both the upper and lower jaws on the blunt muzzle. None looked to be adapted for chewing. The bone structure showed him where the massive muscles and tendons attached to the bone and worked the lower mandible. The animal’s jaws were undoubtedly powerful. Whatever it was, it could be assumed that whatever it ate it simply ripped off chunks and swallowed them whole. This trophy would have been greatly valued if it had not been taken by a Bad Blood, earning the Hunter more females.

Vek’rin’ka left the kehrite. He had decided that he would acquire a DNA sample of the female when he had the chance to place the tracking device he had planned on her. The sooner that that task was accomplished the better Vek’rin’ka would feel. Not knowing where either Al’brk’vix or the female, Cass, were, was potentially dangerous. Well, not knowing where Al’brk’vix was, was just plain dangerous. If anything happened to Cass, Vek’rin’ka would be responsible. It was, after all, his carelessness that allowed Al’brk’vix to focus on her to begin with. If she was killed that would make Vek’rin’ka responsible for her affairs, most notably the pup since he doubted the eta would remain with it. As much as he admired the pup for her apparent sportsmanship and strength of spirit, he wasn’t looking for a pet.

Vek’rin’ka equipped his weapons and left the ship. He would go hunt down Al’brk’vix and kill him. Just so that he could count this Hunt over and hang the skull on his wall, Vek’rin’ka told himself. He tried not to think about the female being killed by the Bad Blood. He didn’t like the feeling it elicited. Yes, Vek’rin’ka tried to burn into his mind, soon he would have a new skull to show his prowess in the Hunt.

Swiftly, the cloaked figure of the Arbitrator moved back towards the city. Tonight he would Hunt for the Bad Blood. He may even have the good fortune of encountering the ooman that so brazenly stalked him. That would be a trophy that would bring him much honor. A brave ooman to be sure and quite clever so far, but not clever enough.