“We’re here,” Jrokah states, climbing from her flight chair. P’taal stands to his full height and moves to follow Jrokah from the hunt ship’s flight deck. The yautja youth is surprised when Jrokah turns and grips him by the shoulders. Staring deep into his eyes, Jrokah forces him to look at her.
“You will keep your promise?” Jrokah inquires, studying P’taal’s face.
“My promise, Hunt Leader?”
“To tell me all about your hunt kills,” Jrokah says in a deep sultry voice. “I do not want you to leave any details out.”
P’taal finally realizes what Jrokah is getting at, his body tingling from a sudden surge of hormones. He returns Jrokah's hungry gaze, hazel eyes bright with mischief and desire. He considers stroking the hunt leader's cheek, but decides such a move would be brazen in the extreme. There is always the chance that his suppositions are incorrect.
“Yes. I will tell you. Once we are safely back aboard your ship. We will have plenty of time, then.”
Jrokha presses her cheek against P’taal’s and draws in his male scent. He imitates her actions, his heart fluttering beneath the metal of his armor. So he was not wrong. Something to look forward to?
Jrokah releases P’taal and pivots away from him. Just as suddenly as it began, their moment of bonding is over. For now.
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Jrokah climbs down into the depths of the gaping cave in front of her. P’taal isn’t far behind. As designated hunt leader, she had demanded to go first. As Jrokah’s dedicated suitor, P’taal had opted not to buck her authority. He watches both his back and Jrokah’s for any signs of danger. He does not have to wait long.
A loud screech fills the cavern as a ghkivu-keinde hybrid leaps from a nearby crevice. P’taal fires his netgun, propelling the beast away from Jrokah. For her part, Jrokah uses a throwing disk to sever the beast’s head—prior to the net hurling it away. P’taal solemnly shakes his head. Shame about the net.
Continuing forward, Jrokah and P’taal make their way deeper into the cave. The other two teams should have already arrived at their chosen locations. They will have to hurry.
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Unlike most hives, the center chamber of this particular serpent hive is filled with water. Serpent eggs line the entire rim of the waterhole. The tops of some eggs are already split open, the implanters inside having burst forth to infect their prey. With their hunt masks on, the implanters will not be able to sense their respirations. It is the spiny hybrid adults they must be wary of.
Jrokah points toward a far corner with a clawed finger. P’taal follows where her finger is pointing to the ovipositor situated midway up the ceiling. So far, so good. They’ve located the queen. No adult serpents clamber noisily up the walls and ceilings. This is either a good sign. Or a really bad one.
Creeping closer to the water’s edge, Jrokah removes her wrist gauntlet. All but the final sequence has already been entered. The female hunt leader opens her gauntlet and inputs the final symbol. Jamming the device into an empty egg, she returns to P’taal’s side.
“Let’s go,” Jrokah whispers.
Before the two hunters can get more than four feet, there is a loud scurrying from above. P’taal hesitates only a brief second before looking upward, knowing what he will see. As he expected, a large keinde hybrid is using its spindly legs to crawl across the cave’s ceiling—slimy tentacles trailing down towards the ground. The creature is right above Jrokah—reaching for her with its tentacles. He does not dare shoot it, the acidic blood would surely rain down on the female hunter and kill her.
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Retrieving his combistick, P’taal signals for Jrokah to remain completely still. He draws back his arm and prepares to throw. The creature sees his movement and screeches. Psyching the beast out, P’taal uses his large foot to kick Jrokah away—while hurling a throwing disk at the hybrid.
The disk slices the creature’s back. Acidic fluids pour from the opening onto the rocks below. P’taal leaps clear with only milliseconds. The hybrid screeches again. Followed by the screech of another—further away.
“Let’s go!” P’taal roars, echoing Jrokah’s previous sentiment.
Jrokah is once again on her feet. She races beside P’taal for the entrance to the antechamber. They clear the entrance and continue back the way they came, using their masks to guide them.
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Approaching the opening of the cave, Jrokah goes down hard. P’taal turns at the sound of her loud grunt. His heart leaps in his chest as he lays eyes on the very large hybrid dragging Jrokah back into the inky blackness of the cavern. He unsheathes his knife and leaps after Jrokah.
The hybrid catches sight of P’taal and screeches a warning. P’taal roars back, his mandibles flaring in anger. The beast screeches a second time and wraps a tentacle around Jrokah’s knee, squeezing her extremity beyond its limits. P’taal cringes at the sound of breaking bone. Jrokah hollers out and ejects her wrist blade. She lashes out at the tentacle holding her now useless leg.
P’taal calls out in warning, but it is too late. Purple acidic blood pours over Jrokah’s injured leg and she bellows louder. Fury seizes the hunt leader and she slashes numerous times with her blade. The creature attempts to grab her with its tentacles and she continues to hack them off.
P’taal uses this opportunity to engage the beast. He hurls two throwing disks, one after the other—slicing off pieces of the large hybrid. While Jrokah hacks at it from below, he slices away at its head and torso. Surprisingly, not very much blood manages to hit the fallen leader. What few drops fall on Jrokah, she promptly ignores. By now, the flesh of her leg has mostly sloughed off. The pain is immeasurable, but she continues to fight on. The alternative is death.
At last, the hybrid drops heavily to the ground, impaling itself on a stalagmite on the way down. The gaping maul is less than a meter from Jrokah’s clawed feet. P’taal rushes to Jrokah’s side, inspecting the wound to her leg. P’taal extracts his neutralizing aerosol from a pouch on his thigh. He is unsure if the tiny bottle will be enough.
Spraying down Jrokah’s injury, P’taal checks to make sure that the hybrid’s blood is no longer caustic. Once he is finished cleaning the wound, P’taal reaches down and picks up the female hunt leader. She shakes her beaded head.
“No. Leave me. You won’t have time to get back if you have to carry me.”
“There’s time,” P’taal says. “Do not argue. I must concentrate on running.”
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Entering the hunt ship, P’taal heads for the stasis pods. He is only a few meters in when something slams against the side of the ship. With a growl, P’taal lowers Jrokah to the cold floor and heads back to the flight cabin.
Once in the cabin, P’taal inputs several commands into the main computer. The ship’s targeting system comes online, red lights flashing throughout the ship. A blast of plasma erupts from the front of the ship—obliterating a hybrid which was trying to sneak close enough to get aboard.
Another command, and the hull of the hunt ship becomes electrified. The creature ramming the hull gets an unpleasant shock the next time—being hurled away by the force of the current which arcs to meet it. Satisfied that the defenses will keep the hybrids at bay, P’taal returns to Jrokah’s side.
The hunt leader does not look good. She has lost a large amount of blood and her breathing is shallow. Removing Jrokah’s mask, P’taal places the back of a hand against her cheek. Her flesh is cold and clammy. Not like a yautja’s flesh at all.
Jrokah’s eyes shoot open as P’taal attempts to draw back his hand. She offers him a weak smile.
“You…Promised…,” Jrokah says weakly. “Are you not a hunter of your word?”
P’taal sits on the cold floor beside the fallen hunt leader, he places Jrokah’s head in his lap and caresses her cheek.
“Yes. I will tell you. I will tell you everything you want to know.”
Jrokah’s smile grows larger and she reaches up a hand to touch P’taal’s cheek.
“But that is not all I wish to know,” she whispers softly, her meaning quite clear.
Carefully removing Jrokah’s head from his lap, P’taal once again grabs her up in his arms.
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Jrokah breathes her last beside P’taal in their shared bed. The blooded youth holds her body to him until it loses its warmth. Smiling wistfully, he bends and kisses her cold cheek. He will place her within a stasis chamber for the journey back to her home. But first, there is something else he must do.
