The best kind of Trophy - CrabWasTaken (2024)

Chapter 1: Prologue; Cougars and Spaceships

Chapter Text

The forest was in its prime. It had rained for days; rejuvenating the lush green after a period of merciless heat. Lucious fruit hung from the branches, ripe and beaming with color. And yet the wildlife seemed to decline this offer of abundance and enjoyment.

Not a single bird dared sing its song, not a single critter fell prey to the temptation of jumping across the treetops. Not even the apex cats of this region seemed keen on capitalizing on this opportunity for an easy ambush.

Everything that drew breath seemed too scared to set paw outside their nests and dens, as if acutely aware that the next gulp of air they’d take could very well be their last.

Earie.

The silence was much louder than any orchestra of roars, chirps and howls could ever be.

Not a single sound left the lush greenery, save for a few, oh so very few, creaks of wood tired wood. On occasion, a branch would groan in protest as if under an immense amount of strain. Every once in a while the leaves on those branches shook as if the wind blew through them.

A rustle here, a small frog getting startled there as a heat sink brushes past.

And then; a long, low, deep breath, and an almost imperceptible trill.

Everything stilled, even more so than before. The birds huddled closer together in their homes, raccoons held on tighter to each other, and the big cats; the big, beautiful kings of the woods pressed themselves closer to the ground, their whiskers shaking in anticipation and their eyes wide with pupils thin as needles.

Something big, bad, and scary was prowling through the woods, and it wasn't a hungry grizzly.

And yet the humans that advanced through it seemed oh so ignorant to all the signs. Perhaps they had noticed after all, for their steps were calculated and careful. Nonetheless, they seemed not afraid; too arrogant to consider whatever silenced the wilderness to be a threat.

A quiet growl in the canopy sent the humans into motion. It was quick, almost like a well-rehearsed dance as they readied their weapons, forming a circle to protect each other’s backs and scanning the surroundings through their visors.

“That’s just a Cougar. No worries”

“Since when do Cougars arrive on spaceships?”

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"The f*ck am I here for?” yelled the young woman as she slammed her balled fists onto the table. The man in front of her tensed and leaned back into his chair.

The blonde pushed herself away from the table, pacing through the room as her eyes kept jumping between Commander Cliffton and the computer screen that showed live video footage of the lab.

Her eyes lingered on the creature held captive in that very lab; bound by more chains than she cared to count, roaring and lashing out at everyone who dared step close.

“This” she started, pointing at the screen in an accusatory manner “is beyond my capabilities. I’m an animal behavioral specialist, a zoologist! I work with anxious and PTSD-ridden service dogs and traumatized elephants!"

She took another look at the beast as if to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her. "You need a whole-ass team of linguists and anthropologists for that!” she said, her voice loud and shaky. The prospect of an alien, and one this hostile, shook her to the very core. Never mind that the very existence of extra-terrestrial life was revealed to her a mere, measly ten minutes ago, it was now expected of her to make contact with it? Had the higher-ups lost their marbles?

Max had seen the creature for but a few seconds through the one-way mirror when she was brought into the lab, but even that was enough time for her to assess that her expertise would be of little use. The creature seemed humanoid and intelligent. It was also extremely obvious that it was not pleased with its predicament. And who would be? A bloody masoch*st, at best.

Even though she had been assured that it could not see or sense them through the glass, Max felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck when she noticed that it’s gaze was following her as she moved through the room behind the one-way window. She could not help but make a mental note that it must have possessed some kind of heat-vision. That no one seemed to have picked up on that felt more ludicrous than the existence of an alien at that moment.

The Commander sighed at her outburst, reaching for the bridge of his nose to massage it in an attempt to self-soothe.

“It’s been here for a couple of days now. It's neither communicating nor cooperating with us at all” he said and opened his mouth to continue his explanation before being interrupted by the woman in front of him: “Well, if I was tied up in a room like that I wouldn’t want to talk either!”

The commander's hand went to his chin, rubbing his lower jaw and the stubble growing on it. His eyes were dark with exhaustion. It was abundantly clear that he was under a lot of stress.

“Max- Dr. Swan, listen” he started again after staring at the mostly censored files in front of him for a few seconds. “We don’t even know if it talks at all. We have no idea about its biology, technology, or where that thing even hailed from. We have nothing. The Higher-Ups dumped it in our facility asking us to research it. We have nothing. No… no species categorization, no instructions from the government, no information as to how that thing even ended up on our planet… Heck we don’t even know if this is the true first contact or if the big guys upstairs were aware of its existence before this incident!” His frustration with the situation showed clearly as he shoved the mostly blackened files off of his table and into the adjacent trash bin.

”It took us eight hours to restrain it. Eight godforsaken hours. Eleven of my best men and four researchers are in the med bay because of this thing” he continued, his gaze now wandering towards the screen as well "five more are currently getting cremated while the coroner is bullsh*tting their families as to the cause of death"

His face progressively filled with both fear and distaste as he recalled the incidents. “So far I have not been given clearance to look for civilian specialists. I can only involve staff that are already under NDAs. And unfortunately, there are precisely zero anthropologists I know of. I already sent for for every biologist I have access to, and contacted every superior involved, but no one has any idea how to deal with this. This… incident, is unprecedented, and quite frankly everyone is losing their sh*t right now. As it stands you are our best bet. At least until we are given the appropriate staff. Swan, I’m grasping at straws here. The closest thing to extra-terrestrial life our facility has dealt with was some dead bacteria in a Petri dish; something every grass-green microbiology graduate could take care of in an afternoon. And now we have this… creature”

The commander seemed to collect his thoughts as he watched said creature lash out in the lab.

“I know I’m asking a lot here, but we need to find out something about it, anything”

Max took a deep breath as she sat back down into the chair she jumped out of earlier.

“Okay,” she sighed quietly “what do the files say? What can you give me to work with?”

Both cringed when they heard the distant sound of a roar, and watched as one of the chains tied around the creature snapped before all personnel in the lab jumped into overdrive in order to restrain it with a new one, and maybe a couple more for good measures.

“have you tried feeding them yet?” asked Max in an effort to alleviate the tension, yet her dry humor was misplaced as the commander gave her a strict look.

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“This is a bunch of sh*t” cursed Max under her breath as she removed her clothes, getting ready for the decontamination process.

She had felt her heart drop down to her knees when she made her way towards the wing in which the creature was held. Medical staff had rushed past her carrying a shell-shocked man whose entire face was slashed wide open, one eye hanging out of its socket. To say she was mortified would have been an understatement. She would have rather turned on her heel, jumped into her car, and returned to her dingy apartment to get drunk enough to forget everything that happened that day.

And yet she didn’t. Perhaps it was a sense of duty; old habits of obedience, that had been ingrained in her during her service, gnawing at her and making her unable to refuse her old comrade. Or perhaps stranger yet; morbid curiosity. She didn't know.

Either way, she found herself accepting her new assignment, yet annoyed at the lack of competence of her superiors.

The commander couldn’t provide her with any useful information. Neither could the bureaucrat-wannabe-head-researcher. Aside from trivialities and promises of a briefing inside the lab by another biologist, he had exactly two other things on offer; Jack-, and -sh*t.

“f*cking first contact happening and no one knows what to do” she muttered, refusing to believe that the government was unprepared for meeting an alien. sh*t, she was sure every hillbilly with a bunker had a profound plan of action as to what to do if an alien was to land in their cornfields.

“Please step into one of the designated cabins, Mrs. Swan” a voice echoed from the speaker above her, bringing her back to reality. She positioned herself as previously instructed inside one of the glass cabins. “You are going to be rinsed with warm water, sprayed with disinfectant and then you’ll have to spend some time in a sterilizing mist. None of that is going to be pleasant” said the voice, and before Max was even able to collect herself and answer, she already felt bursts of water hitting her body from pretty much all angles. She jolted at the sudden impact, yelped when the cold disinfectant hit her skin next, and coughed when the cabin begun to fill with the mist.

She'd heard of those decontamination procedures before, they were a common occurrence for everyone working with precarious or sensitive biological matter; avoiding cross-contamination. No one was particularly interested in catching the intergalactic version of the bubonic plague or watching the Alien keel over from measles. But in this scenario, she couldn't help but feel like it served another purpose too; removing potentially aggravating scents and triggers from her person.

Only when the whole ordeal was done and over with was she allowed to proceed into the next room. She felt like a wet dog that got hosed down in a yard. To think that this was something she’d have to do every time she entered or left her new workspace filled her with discomfort.

Nonetheless, she had other things to worry about than such inconveniences.

The next room provided her with fresh clothes; a standard lab uniform that did not include any underwear, and forced her to go commando.

She sighed, joking in her mind that this might very well be the last straw before she hands in her withdrawal from this job. She slipped into the teal pants and shirt, quickly threw on the white coat, and reluctantly put on a pair of Crocs. “Surprised fashion police didn’t raid this place yet” she mumbled in an attempt to ease her nerves; trying to pretend this was just another mundane assignment and not a colossal breakthrough.

A loud, bloodcurdling roar made her curl inward, pressing her arms closer to herself as the hairs on the back of her neck began to stand.

More growls followed alongside human voices barking orders at each other.

If not her sanity, she hoped that at least her humor would survive this assignment.

She took a deep breath before building up the courage to proceed into the actual lab. Usually, the animals she was dealing with had a fair amount of files about them that helped her create a plan of action and work out the best approach.

Aggressive German Shepherd with a startle reflex? Piece of cake. Overly attached Tiger that throws a hissy fit every time their favorite human dares as to so much as take a few steps away from them? She'd have bigger trouble picking out what to wear on a Friday night.

This? This time she had nothing, and she wasn’t dealing with an animal either.

“Most likely a carnivore” she whispered as she gnawed on her lower lip. From what she was able to gather the creature was a mountain of muscle and possessed sharp claws and fangs which was unheard of in herbivores. Such aggression was also unwarranted in herbivorous animals (safe for hippos that is. Those murder vegans have an agenda).

“Alrighty Maxie, put on your big girl pants. You got this.“ she whispered, having decided to keep a low profile and avoid eye contact at all costs.

Chapter 2: Yes, let's flirt with the alien

Chapter Text

For another moment she hesitated, brushed some wet strands of hair out of her face, and felt some primal sense of self-preservation creeping up on her. She was quick to put that thought aside as she straightened herself, determined not to show any signs of anxiety.

Carnivores tented to pounce when they sensed easy game, so while she needed to stay inconspicuous to not pose a threat of any kind and provoke aggression, she also had to establish herself as anything but a target; anything but prey.

She adjusted her gaze, staring perfectly straight ahead. Her chin not being too high as to give the impression of arrogance, yet also not directed downwards as a sign of submission. A position that was neither too protective of her neck, nor taunting by showing it off. A sort of neither hither nor tither that feigned her state of being as rather ambiguous and aloof.

She stepped into the lab before her mind found another reason to delay this encounter. For a brief moment, all eyes flew towards her, staring this new intruder down before recognizing her as one of their own and continuing their frantic work.

Everyone but one, everyone but the creature in question.

It had captivated her attention before she even had fully entered the room. It was grand, both in height and width, and the muscles were sculpted to such perfection that Greek gods themselves would be envious. Its body seemed overwhelmingly male, yet she didn’t allow herself to make that presumption yet.

She briefly skimmed over the silvery armor it wore, covering basically nothing with most of its body being “concealed” by a mesh-like fabric that did absolutely zilch to hide its skin. A loincloth-like piece covered what she assumed to be its no-no square and she added to her mental list that its home planet must have been rather warm. She also noted the strange combination of futuristic and tribal aspects.

Had the circ*mstances been different she would have called this sort of apparel nothing more than fetish gear.

With how little of its body was left to the imagination she was quick to take in its other features.

Its skin seemed tough, but she couldn’t tell whether it was scaly or leathery in texture from that distance. But one thing she knew; that it must have been able to masterfully camouflage itself amongst the thicket of any natural landscape. Its skin was mostly a brownish shade with dark umber patches, not unlike spots or large freckles, scattered on its shoulders and outer rims of arms and legs. Its stomach, chest and inner thighs were much lighter in coloration. A sort of dark creamy color, or perhaps the color of a particularly milky cup of coffee.

She also spotted a substantial amount of scars scattered on its skin. Some thin and fair, others ragged and prominent. Most definitely a carnivore, she decided, yet left to speculate about the origin of those scars.

The blonde paused for a second before allowing her gaze to move upwards towards its face. While its gaze seemed certainly transfixed on her just as much as hers was on it, it had yet to show any signs of hostility towards her, which Max supposed was a good thing and a sign that her decision to deliberately alter her behaviour bore fruit.

Its face was grotesque, so much she could tell as she had a hard time comparing it to anything. It possessed some strange mandibles around its mouth, with sharp teeth hidden between them.

For a split second, she felt her inner biology-nerd-fangirl slip out; her eyes slightly widening and teeth biting down on her lower lip, mind racing with wonder about its dental attributes. Crocodilians and their large, sturdy jaws and teeth came to mind first. She assumed the possibility unlikely since the creature’s jaw resembled nothing like a crocodiles. Sharks and their multiple rows of blade-like teeth came to mind next. "Not unlikely" she thought. Lastly, her mind jumped to canine and feline teeth. While not impossible, especially with how little she was able to see of its teeth with several yards of distance between them, Max guessed it improbable due to the creature's reptilian-like skin. And while she didn’t want to be a presumptuous little snob and assume the mix of mammalian and reptilian features impossible in an alien creature, for some reason the very notion seemed implausible.

She chastised herself, both for her lack of focus and for making any kind of assumption about the creature. For all she knew it could have a vast array of features from all kinds of animal classes united into one being, just as much as it could have none, boasting characteristics completely and utterly unfamiliar to anything on earth; alien.

She made a conscious effort to return to her aloof expression as she decided to move further into the room, all while vehemently paying attention to keeping the same distance between her and the alien.

Max skipped its eyes altogether, focusing her attention on the long, black dreadlocks. Well, that’s what she could compare them to at least. They were adorned with beads and rings, making the young woman wonder if they were there for the sake of vanity or if they served another purpose.

Her eyes made their way up and down its body one more time to make sure she didn’t skip anything of importance and she could not but admire the impressiveness of its physique one more time.

Christ, it was humanoid alright. Max was always a sucker for well-built men, yet she didn’t expect her inner demon to be this interested in an alien that might or might not be male to begin with.

“Stay reserved” she chided in her mind when she caught herself staring a bit too intently for a bit too long.

After being done with objectifying the living daylights out of the creature (and mentally bitch-slapping herself for these unruly notions), she made notice of the chains binding the alien.

It wore a thick, and most definitely heavy, metal collar around its neck with four chains extending in each direction that were bolted to the metal floor it was kneeling on. Its arms were also cuffed to the ground, its wrists held together by certainly more than one set of chains that were also fixated to the ground to restrict motion as much as possible.

“Holy hell” she almost hissed, yet prevented any sound from leaving her mouth by briefly sinking her teeth into her tongue. The revelation that the creature was kneeling for what must have been days hit her like a brick and made her cringe just as much as would she have actually been hit by one. The very notion that the poor thing must have been sore to the very bones, if not in actual pain by now, left a bitter taste in her mouth and churned her stomach with pity.

Suddenly she found herself empathizing with it. Had she been in its position, she probably would have raised hell too.

“Dr. Swan” she heard someone call out from a “room” created by partition walls. Her gaze followed the call, identifying a man in his mid-thirties making the “come here” gesture at her.

Max was quick to follow the instruction, dipping behind the cover and being met by two men, one of whom extended his hand to her.

“I’m Dr. Steven Gibson. A pleasure to be meeting you” he said as Max took hold of his hand “You’re Dr. Swan if I’m not mistaken. I’ve read your paper about affection in reptiles, fantastic work!” he added, shaking her hand with nervous enthusiasm. “Thank you. It was the thesis for my doctorate. You’ve majored in genealogy from what I’ve heard,” she replied, receiving a nod.

“Me and my assistant, Tony Hearth, both did,” said Gibson, waiting for Max and said assistant to exchange the usual pleasantries before continuing: “We’ve been trying to sample the subject for a while now, butfailed, and fantastically at that, as you can probably imagine.”

Max gulped as the image of the man from earlier crept its way into her mind. She was no stranger to wounds and violence. In fact, she was quite accustomed to it due to having served the military for a brief time and having dealt with aggressive animals before. Yet she could not say that the sight of such gruesome wounds left her cold. Sometimes she could feel phantom pain swell up in her skin when confronted with particularly grisly wounds.

“Commander Cliffton spoke highly of you and your expertise. We hope you’ll be able to find a way to… alleviate the tension?” said Gibson, clearly at a loss for words as to how to describe this peculiar situation. Max let out a quiet sigh as she lifted her hand to rub her forehead in slight annoyance, “I’m sure he did. I’ve told him already that my knowledge of humanoids is limited. Anthropologists would be of greater aid. Rest assured that I will try my best though” she asserted, sensing something not unlike disappointment in both men.

“What have you gathered so far? Has it spoken? Does it show signs of comprehension?” she asked, taking a look at the papers lying atop the desks. “It has not spoken yet. Or, well. If it has, it's not something that we were able to pick up on. We can’t be sure if it understands our language, but it understands when it is spoken to and has a concept of tone and volume. When the men that restrained it started throwing around rather colorful terms, they did so in a rather unhinged manner and tone which seemed to aggravate it further” answered Gibson as he picked up a clipboard with his notes before handing it to her. “The staff has written down everything that seemed of importance when it came to its behavior” he then added.

A growl came from the other side of the partition walls that had all three scientists tense up.

“Has it eaten? Has it had something to drink yet?” asked Max, this time not in jest but in earnest.

Both men shifted, their body language clearly displaying their discomfort. “An attempt has been made,” said the assistant “for it to acquire sustenance we either have to allow it to move its arms to eat and drink, which is a bad idea for obvious reasons, or get close enough to assist with ingestion. Latter was attempted, and cost Dr. Lerch an arm... and a hand.”

Max bit down on her lower lip, mind taking in the information and stomach turning at the image of said event. “We haven’t tried again, deeming it too risky. It has gone for at least three days without sustenance” continued Hearth, his expression a mix of fear and horror due to the previous incident, and guilt due to basically starving a creature under his care. Dr. Gibson, however, seemed far less bothered by that idea than either Max or Hearth.

“Despite the fact that it should be, by all human measures, showing signs of starvation and dehydration, it does not display any hints of weakness. It has also retained all of its strength,” said Gibson.

“See what you’ve gotten yourself into” mocked her inner voice, regret settling into her chest much like a lion would in its den. She slightly shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of those uncertainties. She decided to not allow her mind to wander to those cowardly places anymore and asked instead: “why the partition walls?”

“Obvious” said the assistant, crooking an eyebrow at her “we don’t want it to see what we’re doing here”

Max squinted her eyes at the two, brows furrowing and lips pressing together into a thin line before she asked in a low voice “you are aware that it is able to sense us anyway, right? “

Idiots.

“What makes you think that?” asked Gibson, his voice skeptical yet curious and slightly worried by the notion that the creature had yet another advantage over them. “It seemed to have no problems following my movements behind the one-way glass” she answered, somewhat unnerved by the idea.

The two men shared a nervous glance before the assistant meekly declared that it would explain a lot of things that occurred previously.

After a few more awkward questions, Gibson asked how Max would like to proceed.

“Observation is usually my first step. If you would kindly go about your day as if I’m not here, that would do a bunch for me already” she said. Max was far from confident in her ability to read and predict this alien visitor, so she was desperate for any and all information she could gather on it.

“Fair enough. We were hoping to do a couple scans today. If we are lucky we’ll be sent some of the stuff it arrived with as well” declared Gibson, instantly earning a bewildered look from Max.

“Its things are not here in this facility?” she asked, clearly dumbfounded by such incompetence. Despite not being an Anthropologist herself, even she knew that the creatures' belongings could be of immeasurable value in trying to understand it.

“From what I’ve heard in passing, the vessel it arrived in and any other assets are stored in another facility a few miles south. Some vague department I’ve never heard of is taking care of it,” answered Gibson, watching the woman's expression change into a sour one. “I know what you’re thinking, but those are the cards we’ve been dealt” he said.

f*cking glorious.

“The devices are booting up. We’ll be able to start with the scans in a few minutes,” declared someone from outside the makeshift room, sending the two men into action. They walked past Max and proceeded to the other side of the room with yet more desks, both usual and unusual lab equipment, as well as some sort of control panel.

Max followed the men outside of the provisional room, but dared not follow them across the room. She instead decided to settle behind a desk that gave her a good view of the other scientists and the creature.

Her eyes once again transfixed on the creature that seemed to have shifted its attention to the other scientists. The alien seemed to be even more unsettled than it was before. It snarled and growled and somewhere in between those sounds, Max noticed something not unlike words, though nothing she could hope to understand.

She decided to have a quick once-over of the notes handed to her while the researchers prepared the scans.

“At a distance of ten feet, it’s display of aggression is adequate for its situation. Anything closer aggravates it further. A distance less than 4 foot has proven to be dangerous to personnel” read the first section of the document. “Makes sense,” thought Max, proceeding with her silent reading:
“It ignores staff that doesn’t seek interaction with it. Also Dr. Lennert is subject to much less aggression than other personnel. We assume that his stature (5’2 ft) plays a part in this”

Now this was something. Max rested her chin on her hand, kind of adapting Auguste Rodins “The Thinker” pose as her attention went back to the creature.

It watched the men intently, muscles flexing and tightening in its ceaseless attempts to free itself as it began snarling and growling at the scientists approaching it with gear that Max assumed to be needed for the scans.

“Less aggression towards someone shorter than average. Perhaps because the man posed less of a threat toward the alien?” wondered Max, trying to think of animals that exhibited similar behavior.

The researchers inched closer, earning more roars from the alien as they approached. It became increasingly irate and Max felt herself tense up at the thought of more casualties. The chains whined under the immense amount of stress they were being put through, but to everyone's delight, they refused to relent.

The two men reached the invisible border that was four feet from the creature before putting the strange contraptions down and proceeding with the planned scans, much to the dismay of said creature.

After an agonizingly long minute or two, someone sitting behind the control panel declared: “Inconclusive. We need to get closer to get anything of use”

“Closer?” asked a man in an exasperated tone, understanding the danger very well. Gibson shot a glance up to Max, the look in his eyes enough to make her understand the question “ What do you think?”. Max thought the answer more than obvious and shook her head slightly. The man gave her a nod before announcing “We’re not risking it.”

When the creature shifted its gaze towards Max, she swore her heart skipped a few beats. It seemed to have followed the interaction between Gibson and Swan, and was now eyeing the blonde both curiously and suspiciously. Its tusks clicked as it checked her out much like Max had done earlier, the only difference being that it showed no apprehension in observing her face and eyes.

Their eyes met momentarily, blue human ones with deep orange alien orbs. Max felt her breath hitch, her hair stand up on the back of her neck as she felt put on the spot. To her greatest chagrin though, she felt her inner demon taking over, the walking sh*tpost tumblr troll, that shot a wink at the alien without considering the ramifications.

Chapter 3: Someone needs a rabies shot

Chapter Text

If Max must have made a guess as to what was going on inside the alien's mind, she would have guessed that it was taken aback. For, despite Max’s worries, her gesture wasn’t met with hostility, no, the alien didn’t even seem to bristle in the slightest. It just tilted its head ever so slightly and eyed her with even more suspicion than before, maybe even a little curiosity of its own.

But the blonde didn’t have much time to stew and wonder about her blunder and subsequent lack of repercussion since she felt heat creep up in her face and an all too familiar feeling of embarrassment settle within her stomach. She glanced around the room trying to see if anyone was giving her judgmental looks because of the fact that she had just winked at a 7,5 foot high mountain of a creature as if it was just some flirty boy at a bar, but to her relief, the rest of the attending staff was too busy keeping their eyes on the alien in question.

She leaned back in her chair and muttered “lucky” under her breath as she realized that her little goof went both entirely unnoticed by her colleagues, who would have no doubt given her sh*t for it if they had observed it, and not answered with aggression by the creature itself.

She gave her cheeks a quick rub to encourage a redistribution of the extra blood that shot up into her face and began formulating theories in her mind as to why the creature reacted so casually to her little act.

“How to proceed?” she wondered as she observed the staff run around the lab, write things down, and tinker with equipment. She doubted that she would be able to gather any more intel with the creature tied down and at the mercy of its captors. In this state, it would hardly be able to show any natural mannerisms or behaviors, let alone be in a mental state that would allow for anything productive or civil to occur.

She wondered if there was a way for her to show goodwill, and thusly ease the tension. If it were up to her he would have loved nothing more than to untie it to ease its aching muscles and to offer it some kind of sustenance, but she knew the dangers of it. Heck, she reckoned that if she were in its position she would want to kill everyone too.

Max needed to build some kind of rapport, she decided. When dealing with a cornered or scared animal it is best to give it something it wants to show that you are no threat. But the creature was by no means a simple animal, and she could hardly offer the alien a biscuit and hope for the best.

Perhaps a case could be made to ever so slightly loosen the chains to allow for more comfort.

A loud growl at a lab worker taking a flash photograph made her realize that suggesting such a thing to her superiors would get her laughed out of the room.

Firstly, she would have to either come to an understanding with the creature and or find a way to keep it docile, but for that to occur she had to earn its trust, and that could only be done through a show of good faith, which the higher-ups would only approve of if she could calm it down, and now we’re running in circles. Great. f*cking glorious.

She sighed inaudibly and bit down on her lower lip in deep thought. It was a carnivore, that assumption she treated as a fact, for all the markers pointed towards that being unmistakably true. Yet it didn’t lash out at her making-eye contact, which was an anomaly for any aggressive apex-predator. She glimpsed at the provided notes once again, remembering that physically smaller staff is snapped at less harshly than more physically imposing personnel (or individuals that deliberately make asshats out of themselves when dealing with the alien).

That already made for two abnormalities. However, considering that it’s no simple animal, but a sentient humanoid creature, it makes perfect sense. It was analyzing and rationalizing the people it was dealing with.

Which meant that she had to test the limits of what she could get away with and work from there.

And this exact point was where Max’s expertise ceased to be of much use. She was now teetering on the edge of psychological and anthropological studies, and neither she had any remarkable proficiency in.

So, she had to stick to what she knew best and keep hoping that some of the skills and know-how of dealing with living creatures on a most instinctual and primal level were transferable and applicable.

A deep sensation of dread settled in her stomach as she stood up from her desk. “Four feet, no closer” she repeated in her mind like a mantra.

“I definitely need to ask for a raise after this,” she thought in an effort to ease her own tension “and more benefits”

Her colleagues paid her no mind, but the creature's glance momentarily shot towards her, eying her with investigative caution, before returning its attention to the pair of armed guards that came to stand beside the shivering lab worker that had just taken the photograph of the alien in question.

Max cringed at the hostile hisses of the creature as the lab worker, now assured through the presence of the guards, took yet more photos, and she could not but roll her eyes at that poor fool. “For f*cks sake, just turn the flash off you moron,” she thought as she slowly paced around the creature at a distance of, give or take, 15 feet.

She came to a halt near Dr. Gibbson who was meticulously scribbling down notes alongside two other lab-workers. “The guards” she whispered as she mulled over what to say “I want to test something. They need to stay down and preferably out of sight”. Her colleague blinked at her, taken aback by the request as the other two exchanged wary looks.

“Sure. I take you know what you’re doing, right? We’re running out of beds back at med-bay” he said before motioning for the stationed guards to come closer and informing them of their new orders.

The creature had again followed the interaction with much caution, and now seemed to have shifted its entire focus onto Max, eying her with an expression that seemed to ask her what she was up to.

She stepped closer to the alien, watching its movements closely as she passed the 10-foot markers.

It didn’t react until she was only six feet away from it, growling warningly at the blonde woman, which caused her to gulp and gooseflesh to begin covering her arms.

That was good. It was just a warning, not all-out hostility… yet.

Surprisingly she felt herself become more anxious at the hushed whispers of her coworkers as they curiously followed her shenanigans, rather than the threats of the dangerous alien in front of her.

She took two more steps forward, now standing at the threshold of four feet that promised her safety so long as she didn’t pass it, and it was then that the first all-out roar was heard as the creature lashed forward, or tried to at least, in an attempt to intimidate her, which she consciously ignored and refused to show fear.

Her muscles felt as if static was coursing through them as her heart-rate begun to quicken. Her body was releasing adrenaline and urging her to run, but Max pushed those pesky feelings aside.

She couldn’t help but eye the alien's features with wonder as she once again felt transfixed by its physical attributes. Another rattle of the chains and a roar that made her ears ring snapped her out of her stare.

Back to basics, she thought quickly. The Animal-Psychology101 advised to pose no threat, and even though she was like a quarter or a third of its size, looming over the bound creature, she was in a very domineering and threatening position.

Max steadied her breathing, getting down on her knees and proceeding to observe the aliens' mandibles flare and click together in what must have been a puzzled query.

Given their size differences, the blonde found herself in a position in which she was now the one looking up at the creature in front of her, and it made her blood run cold as she only then came to realize how truly massive that guy was.

“Now what, dumbass?” she heard her inner voice ask her. That, however, she wasn’t able to contemplate as her gaze settled on the heavy metal contraption around the creature's neck.

The woman’s eyes widened, and she finally dropped her fake aloof image as she once again felt her stomach churn with disgust and disapproval at her colleague's and superiors’ actions.

The alien clicked its tusks and hissed, seemingly reminding her that she was still too close for comfort and telling her to f*ck off, which Max took notice of, but didn’t show any particular reaction to.

The heavy metal collar around its neck was too tight. It was pressing into its throat and Max instantly realized that it must have had trouble breathing. In an instant, her hand reached towards her own neck, and following that motion, the creature clicked its tusks but did not hiss.

Her eyes wandered upward again and once more locked eyes with the alien. Her breathing stopped for a few seconds as she felt overwhelmed by the striking depth behind those yellow orbs.

At that exact moment, the creature ceased being an “it”. She couldn’t put it into words exactly, but, as funny as it sounds, she saw something human in those eyes; something sentient and wise.

She opened her mouth to say something but realized that he most likely wouldn’t be able to understand her, let alone answer in a way she could comprehend. Either way, it wasn’t like she could get a tone out of her throat anyhow, for she was too taken aback by a mix of intrigue, pity, and fear.

The blonde bit down on her lower lip as she observed the collar more thoroughly, realizing that it had a simple button mechanism that wouldn’t require a key to loosen by a few inches.

All she had to do was reach out and press them.

A daunting prospect, considering the gnarly sight she encountered in the hallway.

She should ask her commander for permission, she really should, she knew that, but she didn’t know if the creature would give her another chance to come this close. There was no time for bureaucracy, and despite there being no downsides to allowing the captured alien to breathe properly, she was almost certain that the commander would decline her request out of fear, or insist that it would be done under the oversight of a dozen armed guards which would only stress and aggravate the creature into not complying.

Max bit down on her lower lip, harder, tasting blood, before she dared to establish eye contact once again. He squinted his eyes at her and clicked his tusks again as he seemed to process the silent proposition she made.

He tilted his chin upward slightly, blinking at her once as if to say “go ahead”

Thousands of thoughts and worries rushed through her mind. “What if he’s just lulling me closer to take a bite out of me? Maxie, you’re a lunatic. What if he somehow breaks loose?” however, those thoughts were quickly squashed by her inner demon, the inner Max that seemingly had no self-preservation instincts and just did things for the heck of it, as she passed the threshold that was four feet of distance.

The room was completely silent, safe for a few horrified gasps as Max reached out her hands.

She felt his hot breath on her face as she leaned forward to able to interact with the collar properly, and realized that if he wanted to, he could easily lash forward and sink his teeth into whatever part of her he saw fit.

Her breath hitched and she felt the sudden urge to back away, but she kept at it and came to lay her hands on the cold metal. Doing so her fingertips graced against the skin on his neck. It was warm, warmer than human skin, and unsurprisingly tough, however, not rough or hard like an alligator's scales. It felt peculiarly smooth.

In the corner of her eye, she saw a guard ask Dr. Gibbson if whatever Max was doing was allowed, but he and Dr. Hearth only shrugged and threw their hands up in the air with exasperated dismay.

She tried to keep her hands steady, to keep herself from shivering, but those attempts were futile and she just hoped that the creature didn’t notice her anxiety, but it no doubt did, for the look in his eyes seemed to shift into something Max could only recognize as smug glee.

She pressed the buttons, two on the left, two on the right, and gently tugged against the collar, loosening it by half an inch. However, before she was able to give the creature a whole inch, the Commander came marching in through the door and yelled “What on God's green earth…?!”

She felt a sharp hot pain in her left wrist as the alien roared at the intrusion. Whether or not it was on purpose, he had dug one of his mandibles into Max’s flesh which caused her to yelp and stumble backwards as a splatter of blood hit the white tiles between them.

That sent the guards into overdrive as they closed in on the alien and fired their stun guns at him, causing him to roar in agony at the shock.

“Dr. Swan! Are you alright?” she heard Dr. Hearth call out as he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away from the center, leaving behind a thin trail of velvet red that was continuously trickling down from her wrist.

“For the love of god, Max-“ cursed Commander Cliffton “tell me you still have your hand”

The woman felt too stunned to speak, but nodded at her old friend whose worry then quickly turned to fury. “You- you…! What were you thinking?!” he yelled as he helped Dr. Hearth hoist the shivering woman onto her feet.

Max could give him a dozen explanations, but her brain could only formulate word salad at that moment as she was too fixated on the creature's anguish to pay him any mind.

She hissed as she felt Dr. Hearth press a napkin onto her cut, who looked back at Dr. Gibbson and asked “We’ve established that it’s not venomous, yes?”.

“I need a rabies shot” muttered Max, or at least that jovial inner demon of hers, before she shook her head and came back to. She stared up at a disheveled Commander before yelling “Tell them to stop!”

“What-?” he asked with bewilderment.

“You startled him! It was an accident! They are hurting him!”

“Him?” quipped Dr. Gibbson curiously.

“You can hardly call him an it, can you?” hissed Max, anger like poison dripping from her words as she felt profound disgust at the treatment the creature endured.

Commander Cliffton stuttered a few words at her sudden anger before Max laid into him once more “That’s inhumane, Matthew!”

Chapter 4: According to the Hynek scale, we've made 3rd contact

Chapter Text

Max wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed.

She recalled the Commander shouting something, something, insubordination at her sudden addressal of him by his first name, and she barked back something the likes of shoving that word up his ass.

Simultaneously, she was ushered out of the lab as the alien had managed to take a chunk out of one of the guards that, up until that point, had been relentlessly shocking him.

There was some frantic stitching up happening at the med bay before she found herself in the Commander's office with a glass of Jack Daniels in her lap.

Everything in between was more of a blur as her brain buzzed and swirled. Her mind was way too preoccupied with the fact that she had succeeded at invading the alien's personal space bubble without having her throat ripped out or being folded into a pretzel, and the memory of the guards' horrid howl as he had been the recipient of the aliens well-warranted wrath. The alcohol might have played a part in that blur as well, but it also did a great deal to soothe her anxiety and horror.

“Christ, it’s not even been a whole day and we’re already back to-“ started Matthew, but failed to find the right words and instead took a sip from his own glass of whisky.

“Old habits?” offered Max and downed whatever remained in her glass before reaching for the bottle and filling the glass once more.

“Yeah, something like that” muttered the man at the other side of the desk as he stared up at the ceiling.

Max figured that, after all this time and space apart, things would have settled between them, but considering their outbursts at the lab, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The two of them had a complicated relationship, to say the least. It wasn’t like they hated each other or had any particular scores to settle, in fact, both of them had quite fond feelings for each other.

There was comradery and trust between them from the time they spent at the training camps and on missions, so much so that Max would still trust him with her life if it came to it.

He was a good man, a good partner, just not a good lover. It seemed that only when their relationship had morphed beyond a platonic one, that things became too entangled and incompatible.

Now they knew each other better than they’d like to, and had a hard time separating what’s appropriate between co-workers and friends, and what was appropriate between (former) lovebirds.

Max doubted that, had they not taken things to bed all those years ago, she would have been that uninhibited when speaking, no, scolding him. And she doubted that he would have let her get away with it if it weren’t for the fact that they were too familiar with one another.

“You lost the moment you called me Max when I came into your office” quipped the blonde.

“Probably” he agreed.

“Still, don’t call me by my first name in front of my staff again. It doesn’t look good” he claimed “I’d rather not explain to my boss what happened between… you know. They’ll take me off the case, or you … or both of us.”

“Oh please, as if,” said the blonde as she shifted in her chair and rolled her eyes. Whatever department was in charge of this whole mess was rather desperate, so they would hardly shoot their own leg and kick the only Animal Psychologist off the team. Besides, it was no secret that soldiers often bumped boots and took heated passions to the sheets… or showers… or locker rooms. And there also was that one time when they did it in-

Max shook her head to rid her mind of that nonsense and sighed deeply. That was hardly the time to be mulling over the past, not when the present was such a big, massive, grande, venti matter.

The blonde still had quite the hard time coming to terms with just how all out huge the guy was. When she closed her eyes she would be met with the wall of muscle that was the alien, and fortunately, this time her terror wasn’t mixed with whimsical admiration of its overwhelmingly well-sculpted male physique. Well, until now at least.

“I’m ‘gonna get whiplash if he turns out to be a she” thought Max, both chiding herself for making assumptions and objectifying an alien.

Matthew sighed deeply as he seemed to sink further into the chair and sluggishly rubbed his temple. For both of their sanities’ sake he had turned off the monitors with the real-time footage of the bound creature, however, that proved to not have been enough to keep its existence off their minds.

“I thought you had a death wish when I saw you that close to that thing,” said the man, only to quickly be corrected by the scientist:” Him. Don’t dehumanize him”

“Dehumanize? It isn’t human, that’s the problem if you haven’t noticed”

“Tomatoes tomatos; quit being pedantic. He’s a sentient, smart being. f*ck’s sake, Matt.”

“You and your damn bleeding heart. McHenry had half his side torn out after that little stunt of yours.”

“You would have done the same if you had such an 'electrifying' experience. Also, I had everything under control until you startled him. Also also, having an appendix is optional anyway, and, technically, McHenry doesn’t need all five feet of his large intestine.”

“Remind me again how you haven’t been shived yet for your inappropriate remarks” groaned Matt and finished his own glass of whisky with a vigorous swig.

“I’m too lovable” offered Max half-heartedly in an effort to steer away from the topic of the alien. By now both of them were too drunk to discuss what transpired in any reasonable manner. Hell, Max failed to fully comprehend the interaction she had with him even before she got inebriated.

Plus; she would rather take the time to finally process the whole situation and decompress.

She had seen way too much gore for one day, and still hadn’t come to accept the fact that she was making first contact. Well, according to the Hynek scale, it was kind of third contact, but that hardly was the point.

Those profound eyes of his had stirred something in her and she still boiled with anger, pity, and disgust at the way the alien had been treated. And knowing she couldn’t do anything to help; knowing she didn’t press hard enough to help, made her feel all sorts of awful.

She also had a hard time wrapping her mind around the strange way they interacted. They had come to an understanding without the use of words, which, to be fair, was the norm in her field of work. Unlike during her normal work assignments, they had come to connect with each other on a most basic level, and had a back-and-forth exchanging their intentions. This wasn’t a Tiger communicating its non-negotiable instinct of “I’ll rip your face off if you touch me” and Max adjusting her behavior accordingly to sort of get on the cats level and subdue it speaking its own language, no, the two of them had an actual non-verbal conversation where both parties understood what the other one was getting at.

And most importantly; he tolerated her, even if just for a little bit, and despite having every reason not to. He could have easily divorced her head from her body with those fiercely sharp and strong teeth and mandibles of his, but he didn’t.

Matthew got up from his chair and slipped into his jacket with a sigh.

“Let’s call it a day. We’ll continue this tomorrow” he said “I’m glad you’ve somehow got to make some kind of progress with that thing- with him, but do some risk evaluation before you pull stuff like that again. It- he could have easily ripped your arm out of its socket”

“I’ll try” muttered the blonde, biting her abused lip as her mind began to spin with thoughts due to her failed attempt to bury the topic. She watched as Matthew approached the door and held it open for her, yet didn’t move from her chair as she took another gulp of whisky and felt a sudden obligation towards the captive in the lab.

“Actually, do you mind if I stay here and watch some of the recordings? I’ll tucker out on the sofa at the reception when I’m done” she asked as her mind spiraled and fell into old habits of analysis.

Matthew gave her an askew smile and tossed her a set of keys. He was too tired to question why Max would forgo sleep or be content to nap on an old couch at the base rather than whatever accommodations she had in town.

“Suit yourself. Make sure you lock the office when you leave. There is no way in hell I’m staying here a minute longer. I have to get home, take a shower, and crawl into bed.”

“Tell your wife I said hi”

-+-+-+-

He groaned as he yet again failed to loosen the chains around himself. Paya, when his brothers and troop find out about this, he’ll never live it down. Decades of ridicule lay ahead of him, but at least he’ll have the heads of those pesky oomans and his original prey to show for it.

The prey that lured him to this barren speck of the universe had put up a good fight, as expected of his own kin. A few weeks ago when hunting on a faraway planet he had crossed paths with a pair of Bad-Bloods, and as the Law of Hunters demanded, he had begun his pursuit of those disgraced Yautja, chasing them to Earth where they apparently had hoped to evade him.

With him being a blooded and well-versed hunter who had a couple of Xenomorph skulls under his belt, the outcome of the battle has been predetermined from the start, but didn’t leave him without a torn muscle here or a broken rib there.

Looking back he knew he should have just left the planet as soon as his task was completed, but his own arrogance and curiosity had kept him from doing so.

He had heard stories of this planet and its inhabitants from elders, and how oomans became the ultimate prey when allowed to be infested with Xenomorphs due to their high intellect and cunning nature, which was part of the reason his kind was not permitted to engage with the planet unless they were hunting down Bad-Bloods or had explicit orders from the Elders. In olden times, his people used to frequently “sanction” oomans from their home planet and deliver them to Xenomorph nests to allow them to become the most honorable and challenging prey of all. However, unregulated as that whole practice was, things had gotten out of hand and several nests grew too large; devastating the planets designated for the hunt and causing the near extinction of several Clans that were appointed to contain the issue, as well as accelerating the spread of that parasitic species throughout the galaxy.

However, he wouldn’t call oomans themselves worthwhile prey. They were pathetic, squishy, small, weak, and he had a hard time believing that they possessed intellect that could rival the one of the Yautja. And even though he had been captured by them, he still continued to believe it so, and blamed his own arrogance for the predicament he found himself in.

From what he observed of the few oomans scattered throughout the galaxy, remnants of his people's hunting practice or other species pirating deeds, they were a cowardly and anxious bunch, reeking of fear. Their faces were too expressive and easily deciphered, not at all cunning and scheming as he had been told by the hunters who proudly displayed the skulls of those small creatures and told of their extraordinary ingenuity.

However, finding himself in the cradle of humanity, on Earth, he wondered if perhaps oomans that were allowed to prosper in their preferred environments were different and worthy of the back-handed praise older hunters gave when asked about those rarely displayed skulls.

He could only scoff at that as he recalled how easily it was to take down the warriors of this species. Those armed males in their ridiculous green fabric armors seemed to be respected by the others and carried themselves with the confidence of seasoned fighters, yet were as easy to take down as any un-blooded youngling of his kind.

He had felt profound disappointment, which gave way to the annoyance and arrogance that ultimately led to his capture.

Even when being captured and surrounded by more oomans than he cared to count, he still hadn’t seen any of that revered, deviant savviness, and continued to hold contempt for those feeble vermin until a peculiar one marched into the room he was kept.

It was a female, so much he could tell in an instant. It was ridiculously small, as seemed usual for this species, but even so, it managed to be even smaller than its male counterparts. Not having many fond or curious feelings left for the oomans at that point, he hadn’t paid it any mind, and instead focused his efforts on making his uncomfortable constraints budge and continued to look out for windows of opportunity.

By then he had begun to start feeling slightly peckish, and the kneeling position he was forced into was not only humiliating and starting to put a strain on his joints, but also not doing his injuries any favors, but he knew that it all would be remedied soon.

His attention had once again been captured when he heard the female converse with its peers. A few things he had been able to understand, for the foolish oomans had failed to rid him of most of his gear, allowing him to make use of his, admittedly out-of-date, translator and follow along many conversations had around him.

He was surprised when it claimed that he could see them through the partition walls, which was true, but took him off-guard nonetheless. The little one was observant, he made note of that, and kept having his interest piqued when he detected that the tiny female swayed through the room with an uninterested expression and seemed to hold some kind of authority over its peers.

What had him floored, however, was when that little thing was not only able to withstand his eyes when they met, unlike the other humans, but had also boldly winked at him.

Perhaps he had misjudged the oomans after-all, and it were the females of this species that were worthwhile prey.

Next thing he knew that bold little thing closed in on him, and he wondered if it was particularly brave in challenging him, or plain stupid.

He roared at its antics when it was short of striking range, warning it that, despite his curiosity, he was not above ripping the female apart if it continued… whatever it was it was doing.

Like all oomans, it had a weird mane on her head, big almond-shaped eyes, a soft round-ish face and pink, fleshy “lips”. Oomans were very much unlike his people in those features, but not unsightly or hideous; just different, and not without charm.

The first time he laid eyes upon an ooman he noticed instantly that they possessed a sort of pet-like attribute. It was a commonly shared sentiment amongst hunters that met (more likely hunted) humans that they tended to look weirdly… cute, like pets. Where other sentient species oftentimes were just plain weird looking and unappealing to his people at best, humans, with their huge eyes, small stature and plushy cheeks, seemed akin to lower-intellect-animal creatures some hunters brought with them as living trophies to gift to females and their spawn, or sometimes even keep to themselves for company.

When the female continued to stare down at him, he thought he had it figured out and assumed the puny one was mocking him, but was proven wrong when it chose to kneel in front of him and watched as it seemed to ponder something, before its expression changed to one of anxiety.

It emphasized, showed understanding of his predicament and offered to interact with his collar. All that in less than a minute. Perhaps he ought to rethink his stance on ooman intelligence after all. Or perhaps not, for what suicidal fool would offer such a thing to someone they knew could very well end them with little effort?

“Why not?” he figured “her bravery shall not be ignored”

Up until she leant closer he had failed to pick up on her scent. The many oomans and their mixed fearful odors made it impossible to point out any one particular amongst them, but up close he could distinguish her smell from the others. Of course, he noticed that tinge of anxiety in an instant, and that hint of blood from her self-inflicted "lip"-wound, but he also picked up on a distinctly sweet and herby note that was altogether missing from her male counterparts.

He found himself committing her scent to memory, and was so preoccupied with doing so that he failed to pick up another male’s arrival until it raised its voice in shock.

His sense of smell was overwhelmed by blood as he roared out an admittedly surprised warning at the intruder, watching as the little female scuttered backward and how blood gushed from her tiny wrist, feeling somewhat relieved that he hadn’t caused her more harm than that.

What followed were electric shocks delivered by cowardly and weak human warriors, using crude weapons, that, unfortunately, weren’t any less painful than the ones his people used.

One of his attackers overstepped his boundary, and he was glad to sink his teeth into him, which also caused the evacuation of almost everyone present, leaving him alone in his prison safe for a few green-clad warriors holding primitive fireweapons.

He discovered that, despite the intrusion, the female had been able to loosen his collar by a little, which eased his discomfort and perhaps allowed for more leverage the next time an opportunity presented itself to break free of his steel chains.

He knew that his escape was imminent, whether or not he was able to break free of his chains on his own. All he needed was patiently wait for his equipment to reboot, and he’d be able to call in his ship via autopilot using his gauntlet. However, given his persistent boredom and distaste for the oomans, his patience was running thin. Though, perhaps it could be replenished, for the golden-maned female has certainly proven herself to be a more than interesting prey, and perhaps worthy of being hunted.

Chapter 5: Way to go, Max

Chapter Text

“Look alive, sunshine!”

Max groaned out one of the most miserable sounds known to mankind. She curled into a fetal position and buried her face in the cushions while someone tried to shake her awake incessantly.

Her head was filled with brain-melting pain as, on top of her self-induced hangover, the memories of the past day came flooding in and made her wish she had neither finished off the bottle of whisky by herself, nor watched the recordings until the buttcrack of dawn.

“What time is it?” she managed to croak out eventually as the hand kept rattling her awake mercilessly.

“About seven A.M. Come one now, up and at ‘em soldier! Work starts at eight.”

“f*ck you. It’s too early,” muttered Max.

Matthew was the embodiment of a morning person (one of the reasons things didn't work out between them). Witnessing him being in a good mood, despite feeling like she was about to keel over, annoyed the daylights out of her. The last thing a hot mess like herself needed was being bombarded with saccharine positivity in the morning. She’d rather snort some coffee powder, be doom and gloom, and wallow in self-pity until the caffeine kicked in.

“I brought coffee” offered Matt.

“Okay, maybe I was too harsh.”

She heard her joints crack as she scooted over so that Matthew could sit down beside her.

Max took the big coffee cup from his hands with gratitude and downed half of it in one fell swoop in an attempt to accelerate the reanimation of her addled mind.

A hum of surprise and delight left her lips as her friend placed a Tupperware container filled with waffles in her lap.

“Did Allison make those? Holy hell, that woman’s an angel!”

“You know what she’s like. She also asked me to invite you for dinner tonight, and to let you know that attendance is mandatory” said Matthew as he failed to hide the satisfied expression that people only desplayed when talking about a beloved.

However, Max didn’t have time to feel vicarious happiness for her Ex's wonderful relationship, seeing as the past day’s events dawned on her with might akin to a punch in the gut.

Despite being drunk and horrified (and somewhat awed), she had managed to observe an oddity on those recordings.

She acknowledged the invitation with a nod and sprung from the couch, almost plopping back down as her sore spine protested against such spontaneous movement.

“I watched the videos,” she started whilst making her way toward the hallway leading to his office, absentmindedly chewing on one of the waffles “-and, I know this sounds weird, but-”

“Hold yer horses. How about you finish that coffee, have a shower and then we go over yesterday’s incident before opening a new can of worms. I know you go haywire in the mornings” suggested Matthew as he grabbed her by the back of her shirt to keep her from hurrying off.

She huffed in annoyance.

All things considered; Max had found that the alien was awfully calm. She felt silly thinking about it, for the countless personnel that had found themselves at the receiving end of a smack-down would gladly argue otherwise. Yet, when analyzing the video-footage, Max had realized that none of it was unprovoked. He had only lashed out on when either boundaries were crossed, or when he found himself challenged.

Which meant that he wasn’t desperate.

Which meant that he knew something they didn’t.

If she were so much as to suggest such a thing, which was still a theory at best since Max could very well be wrong in her assessment, she knew that her superiors would get very desperate and very scared. And that could get very dangerous for the imprisoned alien.

Suddenly, Max didn’t feel as irked about Matthew brushing her off. She trusted Matthew, and she knew that he had good intentions, but he was also very by-the-book, and at times a bit of a push-over. She knew that he would probably report her assumption to the higher-ups.

“You know, I think you're right. It’s just a lot.”

“Amen, Max.”

-+-+-+-

“Right on, Maxie” muttered the blonde to herself as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and used the sink to prop herself up. Her body was tired as can be, but her brain was going absolutely nuts. Praise the coffee gods.

Her clothes laid scattered and forgotten around the bathroom alongside the towel she used to dry herself off, now only wearing her underwear.

The steam from her hot shower kept fogging up the mirror, which she kept meticulously wiping away with her hand to be able to maintain eye-contact with her own reflection, trying to stay grounded.

She could barely believe it all. Just yesterday, in the wee hours of the day, she sat inside the eatery of a dingy gas station sipping burnt coffee and munching greasy bacon whilst she cursed the southern heat and beamed both with anticipation at getting to work with her old friend, and annoyance at having to drive down to butt-f*ck-nowhere-redneck-land for the assignment. Just a bit over 24 hours ago she thought she'd be training some new strain of Cane Corso dogs, or perhaps picking up on that cold-cased project of training battle-moose; not trying to trial-and-error her way through the encounter with an actual f*cking Alien, and one that was treated worse than some common street mutt at that.

She removed the bandages from her wrist and almost winced at the clean cut. Three stitches kept the wound from opening back up. On closer inspection Max was almost mesmerized by the neat incision. It was such a perfectly definite cut that her flesh had no trouble growing back together at the same exact place it had been separated at. It wasn’t even showing the slightest hint of jaggedness, infection or irritation. Such precision and tidiness were akin to an Obsidian blade, or a master-craft Katana of legends.

If the wound had been inflicted in a critical place, say her neck or the inside of her thigh or upper arm, it would have been curtains for her within seconds.

“The perfect Predator” she whispered as she brushed her fingers over the wound, suddenly feeling thrice smaller than she actually was as she recalled his massive frame looming over her. With her being only five feet f*ck-all tall on a good day, Max had gotten used to being the shortest in the room; had gotten accustomed to being a shrimp in the presence of barracudas. But as the memory of the beast towering over her with absolute might and confidence seeped into her flesh, she knew that she was but a little sardine in the company of a shark.

“Alright,” she thought “If -IF- he knows something we don’t, something that keeps him from acting out, what could that be?”

She groaned as her mind continued to spiral down into a wild tohubohu. Somehow her brain kept coming back to the idea that this might be some elaborate prank and the alien was no alien, but some dude in a very sophisticated fur-scale-suit.

Would that make that guy a furry or a scaly?

A knock on the door to the communal showers nearly made her faint as she stumbled away from the sink and almost slipped on the wet tiles.

“Dr. Swan? Are you alright?” called out the voice of Dr. Hearth. Dammit! Was it eight A.M already?!

“I’m fine! Just gimme a minute! I’m powdering my nose! I’ll be down at the lab in five minutes stat!”

“We’ve gotten new instructions about todays... procedures. We’ll be waiting on you. Make sure to call on us if you need assistance!”

Assistance?

Assistance! f*ck, how could Max have been such a dumbass! Of course an Alien from God knows where wouldn’t arrive by themselves! He must have had some kind of Back-Up nearby!

“f*ck!” muttered Max as she hastily slipped back into her clothes. This meant that he must have also had some means to contact said Back-Up plan. But that wouldn’t go unnoticed, would it? However, come to think of it the Alien was wearing an awful lot of bits and bobs, not that they looked particularly useful to Max. But, as was widely known; looks can be deceiving. And hell, for all she knew he might have even had a Computer-Chip in his brain!

Obviously, she couldn’t tell anyone! That would be pandemonium! But she couldn’t keep that to herself either, now, could she?

“Alright, alright! Be reasonable! He’s been here for a while, if rescue was coming, they wouldn’t have left him out to dry for days on end, would they?” she mumbled.

She ruffled through her hair, trying to make it look presentable before giving up and tying it up in a messy bun. She slid out from the room, heading straight for the lab while hoping not to run into anybody who could pick up on her anxiety.

This would complicate things.

Not a single soul could catch on to what she was suspecting; else things would go south, fast and hard!

“Dr. Swan! Would you join us kindly?” she heard Dr. Gibson call out from the Commander's office before she could slip into the decontamination room. She'd hoped to skip the promised reprimand and lecture about "Workplace Safety", and almost called out for Gibson to go shove something up his happy place, but that wasn't something they’d let her get away with after yesterday's debacle.

She exhaled deeply and rolled her eyes before making her way into the office. Max guessed she'd have to make a bunch of excuses and just nod her head like a dim-witted yes-man for this to go over smoothly and quickly. Perhaps she could bully Matthew into just canceling the whole ordeal if she guilt-tripped him into feeling at fault for the whole thing (which he was!) and then twisting the knife with the fact that the Alien was basically starving and sore to the bones. Maybe she could-

“I’m Sargent Major Wolff” said a strict-looking guy as soon as she stepped foot into the room. “Dr. Maxine Swan” responded the blonde in a sort of dazed manner. What on EARTH was a Sargent Major doing here when there was a Commander already present and in charge?

She momentarily locked eyes with Matthew who looked rather skittish and apologetic, and so did Dr. Hearth. Meanwhile, Dr. Gibson seemed non-plussed, if not somewhat thrilled.

Not good.

“I’ll get straight to the point since this is quite the precarious matter we have on our hands. I have been in charge of the intruders non-specified-aircraft and other gear. Myself and the Governor have been keeping up-to-date with this station's progress, or lack thereof. And after yesterday's incident, the other Sargent Commanders and the Governor have decided that keeping a live specimen is too big of a liability” he began to explain, making Max’s face contort in horror and nearly making her blurt out “are you kidding me?!”

“Seeing as we have had quite a few casualties and how the creature keeps refusing cooperation, as well as acting violently after faking goodwill, it seems that the most humane and safe approach is to put it down and have it examined post-mortem”

“Y-you can’t!” protested Max, watching Matt cover his mouth to conceal a gasp at her outburst which caused her to catch herself immediately.

“I mean- with all due respect Sargent Major Wolff, yesterday’s occurrence was an accident due to startling hi- the creature, that escalated further because of provocations by the staff!” she started, but saw that she needed to quickly change her approach, for, the Sargent was obviously not of the empathetic kind, and thus having none of her excuses. He was a picture-perfect arrogant bastard who only cared for tidy bureaucracy, so much she could tell at first glance. She knew his kind, and had encountered quite a few doppelgängers during her service. The military district was positively saturated with asshats like him.

She hated this holier-than-though make-belief bullsh*t attitude and the “doing what’s best for everyone involved” platitudes they liked to spew to conceal the fact that they simply couldn't be arsed to take anything but the path of least resistance.

She needed a sound argument that he couldn’t dismiss based on “safety concerns”, or something that would make him look like a proper douche in the following reports if he refused, which his kind would never allow.

“I have been involved in this case for a but a day” she began after collecting herself, putting on her best boss-babe voice “but I’ve already been able to make out some behavior patterns that align with the Crocodylidae and Ursidae families!”

That was horsesh*t of course, but none of them had any idea what she was talking about anyway. Bless being understaffed.

Dr. Hearth seemed suddenly very intrigued, meanwhile, the Sargent became visibly uneasy.

“That’s how I was able to establish the first non-lethal contact. It was just an unfortunate set of circ*mstances that cut the interaction short” that was even sort of true. What wasn’t, was what followed: “H- the creature reacted like all members of the Crocodilian family do when startled; their jaws snap shut, and I was too close. The following attack on the other personnel was a self-defense tactic often seen by female Grizzly Bears who are protecting their-cubs; disproportional due to fear. With this information, I certainly can make quite substantial progress, and perhaps establish some sort of verbal interaction.”

She lied, through her teeth at that, and she didn’t even blush. She was spewing such preposterous non-sense that she probably would have gotten her doctorate and license revoked if any other Zoologist worth their salt had been privy to their conversation. She should have become a politician with such bold fabrications up her sleeve.

“Was that what you’ve been trying to tell me earlier this morning?” asked Matthew suddenly, and Max nodded gravely as if everything had been a huge misunderstanding.

“Why- well, if only we would have been informed about that!” accused the Sergeant, seemingly trying to shift blame. Luckily for him, Matt had a heart of gold and, due to Max’s lie, felt compelled to do just that: “I take full responsibility. Dr. Swan tried to inform me earlier this morning after she spent most of the night gathering evidence, but due to time constraints and this upcoming meeting I, unfortunately, have dismissed her”

Max shifted on her feet, the rational, reasonable part of her mind informing her that if anyone called out her lie; if anyone found out that she was deliberately misguiding her superiors and putting national security at risk at that; she’d never get to see the light of day again.

She gulped as she surveyed the room for reactions. Hearth seemed to be in absolute awe at her story, completely enamored with her seemingly brilliant mind and looked like he would love nothing more than to crack open her skull and scoop the answers to his questions right out of her brain. Gibson seemed to share his sentiment, minus the awe and questions; he looked like he just wanted to crack her skull and have her on the dissecting table instead of the Alien. Matthew looked at her like they’d just dodged a bullet, which may or may not have been true, meanwhile, the Sergeants' dissatisfaction was clear as day.

“Well, we unfortunately do not have a lot of leeway since the Governor has already signed off on the decision, and is expecting to ship the cadaver to a more suitable location,” said Sargent Major Wolff “but I suppose the euthanization can be postponed until noon. If there is a major breakthrough by then, we’ll be able to make a case to cancel it altogether”

Four f*cking hours-!

There was no way she’d get anywhere NEAR a breakthrough in that little time. At that moment she didn’t even want a breakthrough. With everyone’s blatant disregard for the sentient creature, who spent the past few days tied up and treated with as much regard as a child born out of a loveless marriage, she just wanted this malpractice and abuse to stop.

Just a few minutes ago she had hoped that he didn’t have a squad of his kind coming to his rescue, but now she prayed that he did have a Backup plan.

“That’ll do” she lied “May I go now? With circ*mstances like these, I can’t let a single minute go to waste”

She wanted to throw up.

“Of course, please Dr. Swan, keep up the good work,” said the sergeant before assigning the other two doctors to follow suit.

Once she left the room, Dr. Hearth, thrilled at the prospect of being able to preserve the creature's life, bombarded her with a dozen questions, but she didn’t register any of them as she was too busy keeping the contents of her stomach in place.

Now she’s done it; stuck between a rock and a hard place. She was screwed on all fronts.

The blonde was able to get the kind-hearted Dr. Hearth of her back by saying something vague about affection, something-something new thesis that Max had in the works that she'd absolutely mail him the moment it was out of the drafts.

She went through the motions as quickly as the decontamination process allowed, this time not even minding the shameless offense that was the sad excuse of a Lab-Uniform.

She reckoned she must have looked like a beaten dog when she walked through the door, for the Alien regarded her with caution, and not the same kind it showed towards her the day before.

-Little did she know was that he’d followed the interaction in the office with piqued interest, and judging by body temperature he assumed that nothing good would come of it.-

-He could tell that the female was in turmoil, and that her pulse and blood pressure were higher than what seemed normal for this species. Was this tiny human succumbing to stress or perhaps an illness? Pathetic.-

Max didn’t have time to dwell on it when she saw some personnel prepare a strange mixture at one of the workstations that would be administered using a rifle; no doubt some drug that could make an elephant expire twice over.

“I’ll rope them into the new plan!” said Dr. Hearth when he noticed her horrified expression. At least that would be out of the way, for now. Max had less than four hours, and she had nothing, zilch, nada, niente! Not even a small inkling of a clue as to what to do.

She wasn't even grasping at straws here; she was full-on riding the bullsh*t train down to no-mans-land and she'd pay greatly for the journey, one way or another. The reasonable voice within her hauled abuse at her antics, told her that she should have just let the whole thing rest, that she should have kept her mouth shut and let them go through with the execution. The voice whispered sweet poison in her ears, told her that it wasn't yet too late to go back on her words; only good would come of it after all; humanity would gain fascinating new insights, Max wouldn't have to face a tribunal and answer to the crime of deceit and the creature would go out in a relatively humane way. And yet she didn't take that rational part of herself seriously, ignored it the moment her heart got struck with empathy and zeal. This wasn't fair, this wasn't right, and Max would sooner stick a fork in her eye and twist it than watch someone suffer such blatant disregard for their personhood.

“Get your sh*t together!” she chided in her mind. Right, the reason he’s not in hysterics; the Back-Up plan that may or may not exist. But she could hardly ask him straight-up, could she?

Ah well, what choice did she really have? He was plenty smart, and seemed too tuned in to what was happening around him to be able to deny that he understood at least some of what they were saying.

With only one way to find out, and not enough time to f*ck around, Max was quick to pass the thresholds and walk up to the creature. At four feet of distance, she came to a halt and found herself on her knees again, this time taking no precaution when locking eyes with him.

His stare was intense, but so was Max’s, and while scared of him, she was more concerned with what would happen TO him (and to herself when things would inevitably turn sour with her employer).

The surrounding personnel were certainly astounded at Max’s sudden and bold move, but did their best to appear unfazed, even if they failed to conceal their blatant starring.

“Don’t lash out” whispered Max under her breath as she saw him flex his tusks. He widened his eyes a bit, but kept from growling at her. So he could understand her, even if just a little bit.

Sneaky bastard.

“If you have any way to get in contact with your kind, now would be the time” she started, looking around herself anxiously and trying to make herself look like she wasn’t conspiring with the very creature everyone in the room had a Death-Warrant out against.

Max saw hostility rise in his eyes.

--“You dare mock my intelligence, ooman?” he growled “I’ll not fall for your games!”, not that Max understood any of it.—

She bit her tongue at that. "Don't back down", she told herself.

“They want to put you down, kill you, and carve up what remains of you. Under the pretense of getting you to cooperate, I was able to buy some time until noon. But- … if you do you’ll remain a prisoner, and I know these people; there is no way in which this ends well for you, or me, for that matter” she whispered. The last part that mentioned herself was barely audible, and more of a sidenote for herself rather than him. However, to his keen ears, the last part did not go unnoticed.

"So if you have a way to escape, leave right now. Or otherwise cooperate and act meek. That way you'll stay alive at least"

At first there was careful consideration in his eyes, but as she finished whispering the last part anger soared in his eyes.

He roared and flared his tusks as he mock-lunged forward to make his agitation clear. Max's teeth sunk deeply into her tongue, almost drawing blood as she realized that she was kneeling a few inches over the four-foot mark - that she was within reach- and that despite obviously having offended him he didn't rip her throat from its place.

--The Alien considered her words carefully, at least the part he did understand. And what his translator was able to pick up on was worrying, IF true. --

--Well, at least things were getting interesting after all. –-

Max tensed when he clicked his tusks and looked down on his left gauntlet. Her eyes followed his, and her breath hitched. Could he make contact using that? He’d need his hands to do so, but she didn’t have the keys for his cuffs- however, he was mighty strong, so much he had proven.

“If-“ she started, but bit her tongue again as some part of her brain screamed “BAD IDEA”, while the other was vehemently rebelling against the injustice displayed and informing her that they did not have any time to screw around, for who knew how long his kinsmen would need to arrive? How long would he have to hold out for? She came back to when she tasted blood and whispered almost silently: “if I remove your collar, will you be able to do the rest?”

He clicked his tusks again as a deep rumble emerged from his chest that put everyone in the room at attention. He was laughing, Max was sure of it, and she didn’t know how to feel about it. She felt her cheeks heat up and her chest tense. It was unsettling, but not for the reason one might think; Max didn’t know if he was mocking her or not, hell, she didn't even know if it was a laugh at all, or even if a laugh held the same connotations to his people as it did to hers.

He blinked at her, slowly and deliberately, and that was all the go-ahead she needed. She nodded almost imperceptibly, and winked at him jovially to ease the tension which only made him chuckle some more. Now the attending staff was clearly anxious, and Max feigned a startled gasp before quickly making her way over to both doctors, the Sargent and Matthew, who were quizzically looking at and her demanding to know what just transpired.

“What transpired was me committing treason of the highest order,” said her inner voice before she took a deep breath and formed her hands into fists to keep from shaking.

“Here goes nothing-“ she thought.

“I need 20cc of Diazepam, he- it’s getting restless,” she said eventually, and watched as Dr. Hearth nodded and began to hastily prepare what she asked for in a neat syringe.

She was handed the drug and felt woozy just holding it. That thing contained enough tranquilizer to make a fully grown bear see God and have an existential crisis. The blonde had no intention of actually administering this drug, she just needed a plausible excuse for why she was putting her hands anywhere near his neck when she would go through with removing his collar.

She was 24 steps and about 45 seconds away from making a life-altering decision if not a life-ending one. Until this moment she was just going through the motions, compelled by an all-consuming feeling of righteousness. But was she prepared to go through with it? Was she prepared to get shot at when everyone would realize what she did?

Realistically, between her removing his collar and him breaking free of his chains there was quite a substantial timeframe. She knew he was capable of inhuman feats, watched as he snapped those very chains just the day prior, but even he would need at least a few seconds to break free, which was more than plenty for the guards to remove the safety from their guns, aim, and unload a dozen shots into the both of them. Max didn’t think her partner in crime would be all too fussed by them. He was built like a sturdy brick house after all. But she herself would probably be out of the picture by the time he freed himself.

Max bit her lower lip. She had to dodge and make use of the syringe, pray to all Gods she could think of, and hope the guards would make the alien the sole target to even hope to stand any kind of chance to make it out in one piece.

But, she got this far already, might as well go through with it. She’d open his collar, get out of the way, unload 4cc of the drug into the nearest guard, not enough to kill, get his rifle, and ram the blunt end of it into the shin of the next one to create an opening to stick him with the same syringe. Rinse, repeat, and hope that by then her Alien-partner had stirred up enough of a ruckus to make a clean getaway.

But what after that? Steal a car and drive down to Mexico?

“f*ck it” she thought “I already got this far"

She turned around, and with new-found and unwarranted determination she made her way back to her accomplice. The 4 feet of safety distance were long forgotten and easily ignored with her standing so close to him that she could feel his breath against her sternum when she pretended to aim the needle at his neck.

She twisted the syringe so the needle faced away from him with a sleight of hand most magicians would be envious of, before putting her fingers on the buttons and undoing the whole collar with one quick yank.

“Max-!” she heard Matthew yell, alongside some other panicked shrieks, but she couldn’t hesitate. She heard the guards scurry, heard gun safeties being undone, and prepared to get shot at. Her muscles tensed with anticipation at feeling the familiar burst of pain.

f*ck-!

Before she could realize or even comprehend what was happening, she heard the mind-bending sound of chains snapping and felt herself being shoved flat against the ground as shots began to ring out. A talon big enough to cover her entire chest pressed her down onto the tiles, near to kept her from drawing breath as she felt the weight of it keeping her from squirming.

Above her the creature towered, his eyes fixated on the guards as it seemingly shrugged off whatever shots came his way. He hissed when the bullet of a higher caliber rifle hit his side, his talon tensing and his claws digging slightly into the soft flesh of her collarbone and chest. The roar he let out made her ears ring and caused the world to spin before she suddenly felt the weight of him leave her.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched as the Alien ripped the rifle from the guard and threw him against the nearest table with enough force to crush his skull. Nearby lab assistants shrieked and covered as they were painted in the splatters of brain matter. The surrounding gunmen shouted orders at each other with vigor and horror as some of them switched to the tried and tested tasers. Those were feeble attempts. Max watched with awe and terror as the alien swatted them away like flies, watched as he cut through all of them like butter, and watched as he entirely ignored the frightened staff hiding behind equipment. There was so much screaming, so much blood, so much chaos that for a moment everything blurred. She hoped that Matthew wasn’t amongst them, hoped that he had enough sense to flee and to not try and duke it out with this behemoth. Dammit, how could she have not even considered Matthew! She should have sent him out of the room before pulling this stunt.

Suddenly she felt part of her mind return to the present when she saw a guard stand over her. His rifle was aimed at the dead-center of her forehead and he was just a bees dick away from pulling the trigger, but the blonde had enough sense and alertness left to react quickly. She rammed the syringe into his calf, causing him to cry out and miss his shot- well, not entirely.

Max yelped as she felt her shoulder be pierced by a bullet and instinctively clutched the wound, rolling onto her side. f*cking hell, she'd almost forgotten how much this sh*t hurt. She braced herself and tried to get back on her wobbly legs, mapping an escape route out of the lab, but a loud sound in the distance stalled her attempts. An explosion? An earthquake?

She heard it again, this time watching as a few other attentive heads spun towards the direction the sound was coming from, but she didn’t have the time to pay it any more mind when another nearby guard focused his attention on her and took aim. She reached for one of the dropped guns and took a blind shot at her assailant before he had the chance to snuff her out. To no one's surprise, the shot missed its mark, but it startled her attacker and delayed him long enough to grab the attention of a certain someone. Another loud roar near to burst her eardrums as she felt herself be roughly shoved back against the ground from behind. She cried out as her wound protested the sudden movement and gasped as this time she felt the breath being knocked out of her for good.

Max tried to buckle his weight off of her as it kept her from drawing air, yet, of course, there was no use in that, and he didn't seem to notice her plight as he made quick work of the attacker before firing at nearby guards he deemed too close, all-the-while the blonde felt increasingly dizzy due to blood loss, lack of air and the chaos itself.

Seeing all the carnage unfold she could do nothing more than ask herself: “What have I done?”

With her healthy arm, she reached behind herself, grasping at his wrist to get his attention. "T-too heavy" she hissed eventually and felt his talon leave her, allowing her to breathe once more.

Another boom, this time closer, made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She felt the ground shake and watched debris fall through teary eyes as suddenly a blinding light enveloped her and she heard the roars of a mighty engine settle somewhere close by.

“Way to go Max” she sobbed, before passing out for good, but not before feeling the familiar imposing presence of the predator set free hover over her, seemingly uncertain of what to do with her.

Chapter 6: 'A' is for asshole, and someone should call the burn-unit

Chapter Text

Vanilla. Butterscotch.

Those smells enveloped her senses as she stirred from her sleep. For a moment she was home with her grandma, napping on her couch as she baked up a storm. For a moment she felt the gentle caress of her nana’s vanilla-soaked fingers dance across her cheek. Those days were long gone, but the memories remained deeply ingrained in her olfactory senses.

Max shot up with a loud gasp. Was she dead? Had her shenanigans cost her her life after all?

For a brief moment her eyes struggled to make heads or tails of her dimly lit surroundings. Grey, so much grey. But not concrete grey; it was metallic, like steel or titanium.

She shifted and heard a rustle. Her senses slowly tried to take in her new surroundings as she realized that she sat on something surprisingly plushy and warm.

Animal hides? But such odd colors? And the smell? She brought a greenish looking long-haired hide to her nose and scrunched her eyebrows as her mind rejected the whole sensation. It smelled just like Butterscotch, so much so that she was tempted to give it a lick, but restrained herself.

She grabbed another one, a hide that was peach-toned and akin to a wooly texture, and inhaled deeply only to smell warm vanilla and milk.

“The f*ck?” she whispered in astonishment and denial.

She brought another one to her nose, a pleasantly striped white and red one.

“Ugh” she sneered as she pushed it aside. That one smelled like wet dog and cat’s ass.

“If I’m not dead, then I’m having the weirdest fever dream in history” she concluded and pinched her lower arm. Nothing. She pinched again and scoffed when she failed to awake from her self-proclaimed dream.

She looked around the room once more, saw things, but didn’t really register them. The blonde felt a distinct haziness reminiscent of the feeling you have when you awake half-conscious from a dream or are under immense shock. Both could be true in her case.

She closed her eyes again, her hands reaching for her temples as she shook her head to dispel the fog in her mind only to feel a sharp throb in her shoulder that triggered the magnitude of the prior events to wash over her like a dark storm.

For a split second she felt like a bunny stuck in a washing-machine; the whole world spinning around her as her mind jumped from one overwhelming memory to the next all the while she failed to process any of them.

Her mind was trying to put the pieces together, but no matter how she turned them, they didn’t fit. Where on Earth was she? Was she even alive, or was this maybe some coma? Perhaps she was in some kind of prison?

“Hah. Guantanamo-Bay I reckon” she whispered, her voice thick with horror and regret, only to quickly brush that thought off. If she was indeed a prisoner, they wouldn’t give her some trippy, pleasant-smelling furs, would they?

The blonde wondered what had become of the Alien and Matthew as her hand reached for the place where shoulder and collarbone met and felt something cold and rubber-like. It was only then that she thought to look down on herself, realizing that she was wearing her bloodied lab uniform still, or what remained of it anyway.

Her shirt had been ripped open clean down the middle and the places where the creature had, consciously or not, sunk his claws into her skin, were covered by some green, translucent tape-like squares, and so was the bullet wound on her shoulder.

Max did her best to sneak a look at her shoulder and noticed that the wound seemed eerily well-mended; as if it had been days since it had been inflicted. Through the weird bandages she could see that the claw-cuts were all but gone and that the newly grown pink flesh of her shoulder was closing in around the hole; that it was healing remarkably well. No puss, no discoloration, no drainage.

Although there was still pain, as to be expected, it was nowhere near as severe as would be usual for such a wound.

She didn’t ponder it any longer, instead instantly feeling uneasy at having her shirt compromised and subsequently having her entire bare front on display. At least her pants remained untouched.

With that out of the way she begun to feel more and more lucid, suddenly and finally being able to properly perceive her surroundings. It was a small metal room, futuristic looking, yes, but aside from the bed, which was much too big for her, might she add, there didn’t seem to be anything else inside of it.

She spied a metal gateway-door across from the bed, or that’s what she assumed it to be since her only frame of reference were those funny looking ones from Star Wars that opened up with a weird sound effect.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, instantly shuddering as her bare feet touched the cool metal flooring, feeling split between being relieved at no longer wearing the abomination that were crocs, and missing those very things since now her feet were freezing.

It took the blonde a few seconds to muster up the strength to stand up. It seemed she hadn’t fully recovered yet. Her body still felt rather heavy and tired, fo blood loss was a bitch. However, when she eventually stood upright, her mind seemed to clear at once.

“Hooooly sh*t” she hissed, now finally able to deduce that she must have been on board the Aliens spacecraft, and feeling light-headed at the prospect.

“This isn’t happening” she told herself “absolutely not.”

She paced around the bed, tried to come up with different explanations, but denial only got her so far, and whenever her gaze wandered towards the hides and futuristic metal wall panels, she was hit by the fact that -yes, this was absolutely happening-.

She sighed when reality finally set in and groaned as she regretted every choice she had made leading up to this moment. “Should’ve told Matt to tough it out and watched K-Drama instead” she grumbled, remembering the phone-call that beckoned her towards this predicament.

Eventually her pacing left her standing in front of the door. She couldn’t make out any knobs, handles, or digital panels to touch.

Figures.

Obviously, she wouldn’t be getting out of this room, or cell, whatever it was, anytime soon. So, when she reached out to touch the door, she did so out of pure curiosity and to make sure for the x'th time that this was indeed real. Surely the Alien wouldn’t want her strutting about his ship- wrong. The door slid open like a charm before she could even touch it, causing her to gasp in surprise.

She lingered for a few seconds before carefully stepping outside and grabbing hold of the front of her ripped shirt to at least keep her breasts concealed.

A hallway. Also, obviously, metal. To her right the hallway seemed to grow wider, almost into a room. The floor elevation seemed to drop. There were a lot of boxes and odds-and-ends scattered about in an explicitly organized chaos. Having no real-life frame of reference, Max could only guess this to be the entrance area that would open up into a boarding-ramp. For a bit she was tempted to have a closer look at the items since, due to the dimmed light, she could hardly make out anything specific. Some instinct in her urged her to pick up anything resembling a weapon, but not only would that be terribly rude, but wielding it against the alien would also be an exercise in futility (not that she had any intentions to harm the guy after risking literally everything to spare him from death).

She froze in an instant upon gazing to her left. Down the hallway there were two more doors on each side, as well as an open gateway at the end of it that awarded her and unrestricted view of the supposed co*ckpit.

She didn’t dare take another breath as her eyes got all but consumed by the endless expanse of darkness. That was it; a hungry void with occasional specks of light strewn about. The sight of the never-ending universe stunned her senseless for a few moments. She starred at it until her mortal vessel woke her from the stupor; her lungs burning for air.

Max tore her eyes from the windshield and instead focused her attention on the alien. No longer tied by chains and sitting in a chair in front of his captains-console he truly was a sight to behold. She watched muscles and tendons flex under his skin as he moved, and was yet again stuck with the notion that musculature like this could make nuns cry. His long dreadlocks hung loose and unbothered and he appeared to be tinkering on something.

Unsure of what to do Max watched him hold a small object up in front of himself against the light, seemingly inspecting it before brining it back closer to him and continuing to mess with it using a strange tool.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, baited breath and awe struck by both the great expanse of the universe, and the Alien in its territory. Eventually she flinched when she heard his voice.

--“I know you’re there” he said, not that she understood it, of course. –-

To Max’s untrained ears it sounded like some eldritch chant.

--The female remained rooted to her spot until he peeked over his shoulder and beckoned her closer with a tilt of his head.—

--He continued to watch her carefully step closer out of the corner of his eye as he made the last adjustments to the little device in his talons; an old universal-translator that had long been broken and unused. It was a coincidence that he had never gotten rid of it, and it was even a grander miracle that he actually has gotten it to work again, more or less. The software was outdated and slow, but it would be good enough for now. He was unsure what do with the female as of yet, for if he were to be honest, he was uncertain of her survival, thinking the oomans frail bodies too weak to survive such damage. He had intended to take her as prey, to hunt her, but how could he now that she had aided him. He grumbled and felt bleak resentment over that fact seep into his chest. Now there was a score to be settled; a life for a life.—

--He almost wanted to chuckle as he watched the female coyly hold onto the front of her shirt, as if he hadn’t already seen what she was hiding beneath. Hah, the oomans were a modest bunch, so much he knew from the few he met. Even with his vessel maintaining a comfortably warm temperature that made clothing obsolete, the ooman felt a need to remain covered. He couldn’t understand it and found it laughable that they were so skittish when it came to bare skin.—

--He had become acquainted with the fragility of their hides, especially so as he tended the female’s wounds, so he figured that this behavior was some kind of compensation for their feeble and weak bodies, and in her case perhaps a certain shortcoming if his scan and data-base were to be trusted.—

--Yet he kept from laughing at this wimpy demeanor when he saw her perfectly balanced expression and found himself yet again intrigued at her ability to conceal her thoughts and feelings, something he had originally thought oomans especially terrible at since their faces allowed for such a wide array of expressions, which they were not shy in displaying.—

Max felt her heart skip a few beats when she sat down in the co-pilot seat next to the alien. His eyes were scrutinizing her, she knew, she felt the intenseness of them. She crossed her arms in front of her chest to prevent the shirt from displaying more than she wanted and did her best to return the intense stare offered to her, did her best to appear unfazed even though she felt as if she was just one more straw away from braking the camels back and falling into a catatonic breakdown.

She gasped quietly and instinctively leant away when he all of the sudden extended his hand towards her. A deep rumble emerged from his chest, undecipherable in nature to her ears, before he seemed to sigh and retract his hand. He held the small device he was working on just a few moments ago to the side of his head -to the place an ear would be, were he a human-, before offering it to her again with a click of his tusks.

“m-di h'dlak” he said, again only more growly non-sense to her. It was the way he said it, almost jovial, that reassured her into accepting the small item and putting it into the shell of her ear much like a headphone. A slight buzz made her almost take the device back out until she heard a mechanical voice with a thick -THICK- foreign accent exclaim :“Yautja-di to ooman-di translation commencing”.

Her eyes widened in an instant. “A translator?” she gasped with astonishment, watching a smug glint appear in his eyes.

“Sei-I” rumbled his deep voice as he spoke, “Yes “ translated the device in her ear with a slight delay.

“Are you unfamiliar with such technology?” he asked, making her mouth agape. This was quite something. She didn’t even consider being able to converse with him any time soon and didn’t even know where to begin. There were so many questions in her mind.

“What-no?” blurted Max eventually “I mean, we have translators, but none so advanced!”

The blonde felt the floodgates of her tongue open before he even had a chance to retort something, words flowing out like water down a waterfall: “listen, this is all really new for me- but you probably know that, eh? First time being kidnapped and all, hooray”. She cursed herself for her dumb remarks, but that didn’t stop the words from spilling out “anyway, how long has it been? My shoulder is almost good as new! And why did you do my shirt so d-“

--He held out his open talon to her in an attempt to stop the flustered female from continuing, which seemed to do the trick. State-of-the art as his own translator was, it was still lacking in vocabulary and nuance on human language, never-mind the updated grammar the female seemed to make use of, and it was having trouble enough keeping up with her unexpected and swiftly-spoken outburst as it was.—

--“It has been little more than one solar-cycle on earth” he said before pointing at the females bandage and adding “my peoples remedies are far more potent than yours”.—

--This one was certainly something, he thought. This wasn’t a reaction he had been expecting, per se. And did he hear her accusing him of abducting her? Pah! He watched as the ooman seemed to mull it over, watched how her jaw tensed and eased into a new set of questions, which he intercepted with one of his own—

--"Are you not frightened?" He asked as he eyed her vaguely "you should be".—

--The female raised her eyebrows, seemed to tense and consider it for a moment before relaxing into her seat and shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalant manner.--

"Nah, you’re cool. I didn't think I'd survive that stunt to begin with, and whatever time I have now is borrowed anyway, I guess."

--He pondered it over for a long while as he fully grasped just how out-of-date the translator was. The spoken words did not make an inkling of sense to him. Why did she call him cold all of a sudden? Was it an insult? And how would one go about borrowing time?—

--He clicked his tusks in a dismissive gesture, there was no use trying to make sense of such a primitive language one way or another, especially since this specimen in particular seemed to be an enigma in of herself.--

--"Why did you aid me?" He asked, his voice gruff and low, sounding reluctant as he all but had to force the words to come out. His pride was hurting, especially so as the day of him reuniting with his brothers was drawing closer, and he anticipated vicious mockery of the very fact that not only had he been captured, but also saved from said predicament, like some little suckling. He dared not even think what his brethren would say would they see the ooman, whose fate was yet undecided, in his company. But what irked him most was the -why- behind her actions. What reason could this weak little creature have to turn against her own in favour of him?—

Max almost retorted she'd done it because he needed a helping hand, which wasn't untrue, but given she was picking up on the obvious shame he felt from this whole ordeal, she said instead : "because it was the right thing to do"

"Right?" he scoffed, "right would have been to remain loyal by thy people. I was your enemy, your prisoner, yet you didn't see it so. You betrayed your people; that's foolish"

Max huffed and rolled her eyes.

"How about a thank you?" She asked as a petty voice inside her sighed and told her she shouldn't have saved this smug bustards ungrateful ass.

"Hulij-bpe! " he exclaimed, the translator in Max’s ear buzzing for a second before offering her the word "crazy".

Okay, definitely should have just let them crank the f*cker, she thought.

"You risked your life for a stranger. That makes you honourable or stupid, I haven't decided yet" he concluded after another pause, sounding completely and utterly displeased about the whole thing.

"Honor and idiocy are the same thing really" she blurted.

At that he seemed oddly offended and growled "fool it is", and Max couldn't argue with that. She knew she had a few screws loose the moment she seriously considered to set him free. By all accounts; she was a mellow-hearted moron that basically threw away everything she had on a whim.

"But what now?", she thought out loud. What would become of her now? Dread washed over her as she let the sight of the endless universe sink into her mind. This was truly real; she was who-know-how-far away from home, inside a vessel straight from science fiction, banished in all but official verdict from her home, on the way to uncharted territories besides an alien she had no real knowledge about.

Hell, for all she knew the only reason he spared her might have been to use her as a ration.

"I don't even know your name" she exclaimed then, suddenly mortified that she didn’t think of it sooner.

--He looked at her for a long while and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he leant back into his seat with a contemplative grumble. Did all oomans have such short attention spans?—

"Da'tqah-T'au" he said, and for a moment Max waited for the translator to do its job. Oh- that was his name?

She felt her inner gremlin rise again, despite this quite LITERALLY being the worst of times for her usual dickery :"What did you just call me?"

His brow ridges furrowed as his shoulders tensed.

--Had he insulted her? Had his name an unfavourable meaning in their primitive ooman language? He shouldn't care, it shouldn't irk him so much as it did, but his people were notorious for their pride, and having already taken more blows to his ego than he cared to admit, he couldn't help but feel a slight pang of discomfort. He doubted he would be able to listen to his name be spoken like a slur. That would just be profane!—

--"M-di, " he said "I mean no insult". He felt a slight chip on his shoulder and felt distaste at an increasing rate at the notion that his name might mean an unflattering thing in her tongues .—

--"Da'tqah-T'au is my name"—

"I'm just pulling your leg" she snickered, barring her teeth in a distinctively human way.

--She was doing no such thing, and he did actually feel compelled to check. She was definitely mocking him now, he was sure. His brow ridges furrowed yet again and he flared his mandibles with agitation, but that seemingly went ignored. How dare she? He could smite her where she stood with a flick of his wrist, and yet the female continued to toy with his restraint!—

“Dat-“ she stuttered “Datkae-“

Max fussed and shook her head before trying again to pronounce his name properly. It was tougher than it sounded originally.

“Da-thkaa- ah f*ck it”

She shook her head in embarrassment at absolutely beefing his name, even more when she saw a twinge of exasperation in his eyes.

“Da’tqah-T’au” he repeated, patience of a saint, and she tried again, causing him to almost cringe at her stumbling over the syllables.

“Tau?” she offered meekly, and he rolled his eyes with a deep grumble before giving her an unconvinced nod, the same kind of nod she received when she scored a barely-passing mark on math-exams.

“I’m Maxine, by the way” she added “but Max will do”

Now it seemed to be Tau’s turn to hesitate. She watched him tilt his head to one side, his mandibles clicking together before he offered up a compromise of his own :”Ax”

She shrugged her shoulders. It didn’t really come as a surprise given that the letter ‘M’ was a rather lip-heavy sound, and he didn’t really seem to have any, or at least not to the same capacity as humans possessed them. “Ax it is” she agreed, finding it rather funny how her name seemed to shrink at every pivotal moment in her life.

Maxine was too girly for the Army, so Max it was. Now the letter ‘M’ was being dropped. At this rate she’d surely just be ‘A’ (for asshole) in a few years.

There was another silence, too long for Max’s taste. Under his prying predatory gaze she began shifting in her seat again and felt the need to readjust her arms in front of her torso.

“Have some dignity, ooman” he said suddenly as he then pointed toward her chest where she just adjusted the shirt to hide as much of it as possible.

“Worry not, your defect is inconsequential to me” he added, causing her to shoot him a questioning look.

“I have performed a full-body scan of you” he claimed as he raised his chin in a smug manner.

“Cancer” she thought immediately "or Ebola. Some terminal sh*t just to make end this day on a high-note". Why not? What harm would yet another cruel joke do? She could already see the engraving on her tombstone :“ Idiot of an animal psychologist, betrayed US military for an extraterrestrial demi-god alien, died on Uranus of Karma-induced cancer”

“According to my data-bank, your mammary glands seem remarkably underdeveloped for a female of your species. You should bear a child soon to remedy that.”

“What in the fresh f*ck did you just say?”

Did the bastard just call her flat out of the blue? She covered her face with her hands, let out an exasperated moan and sunk into the seat.

What a way to top off the whole sh*t-show of an experience; get roasted by a dripless alien in spandex and mesh. To think that all of her troubles led her to getting punked by a literal alien- Yeah no, she’d rather take terminal cancer.

Chapter 7: Someone's a pervert, and someone's got his ass kicked

Chapter Text

“Is this yet another jest?" He asked, his voice thick with bewilderment and annoyance.

"No" Max retorted, sounding completely and utterly defeated "No- just no"

She covered her face with her hands and gave a sigh of resignation before letting her hands drop slightly until they only cupped her nose and mouth and gazed into the Abyss in front of her.

Had a colleague or a friend made such a comment she would have been able to shrug it off as teasing, slung a devasting blow of her own right back and laughed it off. Not without a slight chip on her shoulder that would cause her to look at herself funny in the mirror for the next few weeks, of course, but it still wouldn’t have been as spirit crushing as whatever this was.

Hearing such a remark be made with full sincerity, and probably goodwill, was excruciatingly devastating.

- He made an eager note of the female’s reaction. That seemed to have hit a nerve and strengthened his assumption about this little critter being defective –

"I ought feed you, haven't I"

He said it like it was an inconvenience.

Max had to force herself to avert her gaze from the endless expanse presented to her to meet eyes with Tau. To call this situation awkward was the understatement of the century, but at least he had enough sense to change the subject.

Nevertheless his annoyed tone didn't go unnoticed and Max wondered why he even bothered with her if he was going to be a bitter prick about it.

"I mean- it would certainly be polite" she said "but technically you don't have to. It'll take a while for starvation to set in"

He rolled his eyes at her and said "If this is your attitude towards nourishment, it is no wonder you remained such a tiny little twig."

Asshat.

"Come" he beckoned as he stood up, and Max could have sworn that for a few seconds her heart ceased beating.

Muscles and tendons flexed and rippled as the behemoth got up from his place, a guttural growl brewing in his throat as he towered like a dark cloud.

He was a monster and a half, not that Max had ever questioned that. However, seeing him upright in all his glory for the first time certainly and thoroughly cemented that notion once and for all.

She was sure he held no ill will. Well, maybe not a 100% sure, but if he wanted to outright harm her, she would have found herself at the pointy end of his claws or tusks long ago. Yet some residual part of her monkey-brain called out with conviction that she was about to get torn asunder and devoured upon seeing this beast move in all his impressive predatory grandeur.

Max's expression must have given her awe away, for he seemed to puff out his chest at that.

He chuckled and that smug glint Max had observed times before reappeared in his eyes.

"Frightened after all" he claimed.

"N-no...!" Stuttered Max, not very convincingly, " you're just-"

"Carrying around more beef and cake than anyone is equipped to handle, in more ways than one" she thought as she bit her tongue to keep the words from falling out.

"You're just ridiculously tall, that's all"

He seemed to find that extremely amusing, yet didn't make any further comment and gestured for her to follow, which Max did after making sure that her knees weren't all wobbly.

His frankly inhuman stature may have put the fear of god into Max, but he didn't need to know that, especially since she was getting the feeling that Tau was gloating at that prospect.

"Pray tell, you don't get a lot of meat on your dirt-Planet, do you?"

"What makes you think that?" she asked, confusion clear as day on her face as she grappled with both the random question, and him referring to Earth as 'dirt-Planet'.

He whisked up her wrist in one quick motion, tilting his head to one side and rising one of his brow-ridges as he demonstrated how his hand wrapped around her tiny joint almost twice over.

She suddenly felt a strange pang of prettiness bloom in her stomach. He was talking down to her and humanity in general, blatantly so, and despite having her own gripes with her race as a whole and the workings of it, something about him making her out to be an 'underfed, poor little critter in distress' didn't sit right with her.

Max huffed and twisted her hand out of his, admittedly loose, grasp.

"I get plenty, thank you very much!"

A deep hearty laugh emerged from his chest and echoed through the metal hallway of his ship.

“Do you now, little twig? You are anaemic and puny. Do you even know how to take care of yourself?”

She felt a strange heat creep into her cheeks, one she hasn’t felt since the middle school dance where she fell face first into the drink fountain.

“I- I lost a crap-ton of blood…!” she stammered.

Granted, her diet of instant ramen, coffee and whatever greasy schlob she’d get from takeaway shops in the middle of the night may not have been the soundest of choices, actually, she knew that it was pretty poor judgement on her part, but she wasn’t starving, and she certainly was not going to let him chew her out over it.

- He watched Ax’s features shift, his curiosity growing as her skin suddenly changed color. She seemed oddly responsive to such remarks, that vain little thing, and considering how well composed and aloof she remained up until this discovery, he found his interest more than piqued. To say he was curious as to how far he could push the envelope would be an understatement, never mind the gratification he was feeling from this small victory over besting her, apparently, fickle composure. -

- Tau saw it then, saw her face express annoyance and agitation for the first time. He’d seen it on the other humans faces before, mixed with either fear or disgust. Hers was entangled with something else. Something that made her big blue eyes turn darker, cheeks puff and her skin go red, despite her lack of minerals and nutrients. He truly saw the charm; those oddly cute and pet-like attributes on display. ‘Cute’ was a rare word for his people, especially for him who used to make fun of broody females using that word to describe their sucklings and warriors who fawned over their companion hounds. But he had to concede that even the humans he had slain back on her dirt-planet were pleasant to look at, and understood at least this sentiment which the hunters of days gone by shared with him. –

- He still didn’t see any of that revered devious smarts that so many of the elder hunters praised and lost comrades to. He even began questioning the stories more as he was becoming privy to this frankly weird behaviour and attitude of hers. PERHAPS the humans were smarter than he initially gave them credit for. Or perhaps that temperance and bravery were simply a result of poor survival instincts, for what creature that weighed 100 pounds wet would calmy look into the eyes of a warrior five times their size, never mind aid or mock them? As it stood, he still thought humans incompetent, fragile, cowardly, impulsive and now also rather ditzy. –

Tau led her into the room adjacent to the boarding-ramp-room, the lights flicking on as soon as he stepped in.

It looked like a weird mix of a kitchen-esque room and a pantry, with , of course, furniture that was too big for Max or any other human at that.

Dried meat, or what she assumed to be meat at least, hung from racks while indecipherable butchered carcasses dangled from hooks on the ceiling. There were counter and cupboard looking furniture at the end of the small room with strange Devices either bolted or welded to the furniture. A deep freezer emitting small clouds of icy cold stood next to the kitchenette-esque furniture, and on the right was a rather high table that looked like an extension of the wall-panel. Underneath said table stood a couple barstools made of wood and bones.

The wall itself was adorned with scaly hides and a few mounted skulls, as well as a couple knifes that ranged in appearance from JRPG-video-game-aesthetic-f*ckery to cavemen-era blades. None of them seemed particularly useful or functional, so they must have been ornamental in nature, which would explain why they’d be mounted on a kitchen wall in the first place.

The mix of futuristic looking stuff and frankly tribal bit's and bob's was quite a clash, but didn't look out of place to Max. It looked oddly and uniquely stylish if she were to admit. Maybe she would have thought it weirder hadn't she gotten, more or less, used to Tau's downright questionable fashion-choices.

"Sit" said Tau and pointed at one of the chairs while he made his way over to the kitchenette, only to glance back at her with amusem*nt when he heard Max struggle with climbing on top of one of the chairs.

-"The creatures you eat on Earth are iron based, right? " he asked. –

-Tau's databank claimed so much, but given the lacklustre and most likely outdated nature of the information collected in said databank, as well as the translator doing a sub-par job conveying whatever meaning was behind Ax's weird euphemisms, he'd rather be safe than sorry. He had already spent an outrageous amount of time fussing over Ax's blood loss and painstakingly stilling the wound in her soft flesh, leaving him not particularly keen on her succumbing to poisoning and having to deal with that.-

Max gave the question a few moments to tumble around in her brain whilst she still stewed in her own embarrassment over being chided for her food choices.

“Primarily, yes. But we also eat invertebrates that are copper-based, like Squid or Crabs. Some people eat insects which contain sulphur, cobalt or erythrocruorin.”

“That is a good range to have. You’ll be able to digest many creatures. Most species don’t tolerate oxygen-carrying-proteins different to theirs.”

Max perked up at that, countless lectures on biochemistry and specialized animal diets flashing through her mind like lightning.

“That would be a rather niche adaptation to have. Which does your kind tolerate?” she asked.

He gave a deep chuckle at that.

“Pha! My people are not “most”. There are few preys we cannot consume.”

Max almost sighed at that exclamation and chose not to comment on it. By now she was pretty sure that he was Narcissus’s and Adonis’s lovechild, for he seemed to take great pleasure from praising himself and his race at every opportunity he got and took pride and enjoyment in inspiring awe and or fear. And if he wouldn’t have been so demeaning to humans and seemingly other creatures in the process, she would have found it endearingly hilarious.

A few moments of silence passed as Max watched him, feeling like a toddler waiting on their supper. The fact that her feet were dangling a good bit above the floor certainly did not help dispel that feeling.

What a weird situation to be in, and how surprisingly semi -cliché at that. Alien contact and abduction usually goes with the probing of orifices and corn-circles, or so modern media made her believe. And while corn-circles probably weren’t on Tau’s agenda when he came to Earth for whatever reason he had, the roles might have been somewhat reversed with him being the one to be abducted first and on the verge of dissection and the hole-probing-part. She couldn’t be sure about any prodding on her part, especially not after that comment directed at her, or lack thereof, chest, but that was neither here nor there.

If sci-fi movies were to be believed, she’d be put into a skimpy bikini and on a leash, relegated to eye-candy owned by her abductor that may or may not use her as an occasional sheath to thrust his sword in.

Yet here they were; Max all patched up with Tau preparing her a meal despite after everything that her so-called colleagues did to him, having had every reason not to save her in the first place, kill her, or give her a bellyful of marrow and throw her overboard.

Something in her abdomen contorted at the notion that in another timeline she could have ended up as either a meal or a mellow hole for cold nights. More horrifying than that though she found that the ooga-booga-caveman part of her brain didn’t reject the latter possibility with as much modest disgust as her rational part. And that combined with the fact that her inner gremlin was being a pest from the moment she laid eyes on him, had her questioning her sanity and decency as a functioning member of society.

The naughty goblin in her forced her to acknowledge that from the neck down he was the embodiment of perfection. But she wouldn’t f*ck an alien. Probably. Her sheath was too small for his sword anyway, if he had one to begin with.

She probably needed some holy water and a prayer at this point, and some Valium or Xanax to knock out the menace that was her inner-voice.

“Alright dumbass, get a grip” she thought to herself, willing all those unhinged notions away and out of her mind. For good. Totally.

She came to her senses when Tau put a metal tray in front of her, flinching at the sudden movement since, until then, she was consumed in an NC-17 discussion with herself.

He gave her a confused look, before commenting “you oomans sure are not very attentive”.

“pff- if you knew” she said, unable to contain a small chuckle at the hilarity of his unfortunately fortunately timed remark.

He seemed even more confused at that, almost exasperated, and she knew for a fact that he’d ask for the meaning behind her words, which she couldn’t allow knowing all to well how prone this situation was to innuendo given her impish inner-monologue that she just managed to disable.

Instead, she looked down on the tray which had a dark red steaming piece of meat on it, with a two pronged fork sticking out of it. It reminded her of a beef-flank steak, if only somewhat smoother.

“What’s this?” she asked, looking up from it to see Tau sitting opposite of her with a similar, but much bigger, cut on his tray. He looked at her like he wanted to say something, before shaking his head and his expression shifting to resigned annoyance.

“A creature I slayed a fortnight ago, just two solar systems away from your dirt-planet” he answered.

Max rolled her eyes. He couldn’t be any more vague if he tried.

“Yeah but what kind of creature?”

“You wouldn’t know it. Oomans haven’t advanced there yet.”

“Duh. Which is why I’m asking you to describe it.”

He huffed at that before answering :“ a ‘Viranah’; it’s a terrestrial predatory bird, 12ft in height, a nasty bite and legs that can outrun most warriors”

-“12ft!?” she exclaimed, the sudden excitement in her voice hitting him like whiplash. The oomans proclivity for sudden change of emotion and attitude would certainly take a long time to get used to, and was short of giving him a headache. –

-“So, like a huge Terror Bird! “ she added, seemingly more to herself than to him, but he’d agree that those birds can be a terror. –

“How did you catch it if it’s so fast?” she asked.

“I said most warriors, didn’t I?” he answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

That guy, she thought, but didn’t dwell any more on his pompousness, instead marvelling at the existence of such an animal.
12ft tall bird, what a sight that would be. Even the skeletons of Titanis Walleri weren’t that big.

For the first time since being presented with the existence of Alien life she thought of all the creatures that were out there on the different planets, unknown to her, begging to be catalogued and observed. She was starting to feel outright giddy. Perhaps this situation was a good thing to happen to her, or at least no terrible. Her passion laid with zoology, and other planets were most likely brimming with wildlife. She had no real family to miss with her grandparents and mother having passed long ago and her dad having married a witch of a step-mother that went no-contact the day after their wedding a few years ago.

She'd miss her friends and former professors, the few soldiers of her prvious troop she had kept in sporadic contact with. Matthew she'd miss too, sure, but they had too much baggage between them anyhow, if he had even survived.

She felt a painful pang in her chest at the possibility of having caused his death, but this moment was neither the time nor place to unpack that.

Max looked back down on her tray, gently pulling out the two-pronged-fork and poking the piece of meat with it. It did somewhat remind her of bird-meat in texture, but it was nowhere near as tender as to be pulled apart with a single sad-excuse of a fork.

A glance up at Tau revealed that he had no problems making work of his piece, pulling it apart with ease and using his claws when necessary.

-He watched Ax hesitate when she seemingly returned from another bout of thoughtfulness. He wondered if there was something to remedy that pathetically short attention-span of hers.-

-She awkwardly poked the meat, causing him to sigh. He added yet another two adjectives to his description of humans; picky and fussy.-

-“Is it unappealing?” he asked, watching her eyes suddenly dart up as she fidgeted in her seat.-

“No, I- uhm… need a knife” she answered, causing him to roll his eyes and retort “use your teeth. That’s what they are for”.

“My teeth are dull” she said as she pointed at her canines “and it’s ill-mannered. I’m not a brute.”

-Too weak to pull apart bird meat and too vain to try. It was as funny to him as it was humbling. Those little critters should never have been able to best him, what a shame.-

-And to think that Oomans were the kindling for the most vicious kind of Xenomorphs, let alone able to cut down warriors of his people? More doubt arose in him as he begun suspecting that maybe his Elders had played the most intricate and long-winded joke in existence on him. –

-He didn’t allow himself to entertain those thoughts any further. To accuse his Elders of lying was akin to heresy, and he had seen glimpses of potential in Ax. Perhaps it was Ooman weirdness that caught his people off guard with them purposely calling that oddity smarts as to not lose face with clanmates? It was certainly something he himself felt inclined to do since it wasn’t even half a lie. –

Tau rested his face in his palm as he was finished with his meal. His gaze was petrifying, but Max had a distinct feeling that he was more so looking through her than at her. He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes for a moment before conceding and whipping up a small knife from his belt that flipped open like a-

A combat knife.

No wonder it looked so tiny in his talons. For a moment the blonde felt her blood run cold as images of the carnage flashed, but instantly did what every psychologist and psychiatrist would call a cardinal sin, and shoved all that trauma deep down into the cavernous depths of her mind like a good girl.

“How come you kept that?” asked Max, nonetheless taking the blade and using it to cut into the now lukewarm piece of meat.

“A trophy for my troubles” answered Tau and Max couldn’t help herself but look at the wall with its mounted skulls and blades.

Puzzle pieces fell into place with the gravity of a losing poker hand. That certainly did put things into perspective; the blades claimed from battles, but the skulls? Animal prizes from hunts, or grim reminders of won combat?

“Most likely animals” ,Max convinced herself. He had said he hunted them, and preparing the carcass in the kitchen would leave a skull and skin that could conveniently be used as decoration for this room.

The sensation of the piece of meat she absentmindedly brought to her mouth caused her to flinch, almost squealing out in surprise and delight.

It tasted like bird alright, somehow stronger and a little sweet like beetroot while melting on the tongue like the tender meat of a newborn calf.

Max decided then and there that this was her favourite meal from now on. f*ck Lasagna, Ice Cream and BBQ Chicken Wings. The alien Terror Bird was sublime. That or Tau was the Gordon Ramsey of outer space.

“It’s good” she said, digging in further as her ‘acquaintance’ continued to look at her like she was stating an obvious fact.

“So…” she begun between bites, finally mustering up the willpower to address the elephant in the room “How come you ended up as a prisoner? Or came to Earth in the first place?”

He didn’t seem surprised by the question, but his disdain for it was clear as glass and though he seemed to have expected it, it was just as clear that he’d hoped she wouldn’t ask it.

“I was tasked with hunting down a few bad-bloods that broke the clans’ rules. I got carried away after.”

“Where are they now?” she asked without thinking. Given that they were the only two on board as well as his knack for carnage, it should have been self explanatory, and his expression told her so much as well.

“Dead. Got it” added Max, “but how did you get captured?”

His eye twitched at that question. She had put salt on the wound, as she knew she would, and some cowardly part of her told her she shouldn’t have,but the curiosity was eating her up inside. She had seen him rip men in two and burst chains, so how in the world did he end up with the short end of the stick?

“Suffice to say no thanks to your puny warriors. You little Oomans are no match. I had underestimated my wounds from the previous battle.” he scoffed, his voice laden with scorn, but Max had a feeling he was trying to convince himself more so than her, and now with yet another jab at her race she was starting to feel her inner troll starting to ooze out once more.

“You underestimated us and got your ass kicked, eh?”

He sputtered at that.

Chapter 8: 'Bonding', or 'whatever else you do with your Alien abductor that's not R-Rated', also known as 'being annoying'

Chapter Text

Max would bet both her kidneys that, judging from the expressions in his eyes, he went through all five stages of grief in the time it took him to come up with a comeback.

“I did not get ‘my ass kicked’. Like I said, my previous injuries-“

She didn’t even let him finish. Now it was her turn to rest her face in her palm as her lips curled into a devious grin that could easily rival the Cheshire Cat.

“So you didn’t prepare well, huh? Shoulda’ known better, shouldn’t you have? Still sounds like a ‘You’ problem and a ‘win’ for my lot”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his eyes squinting as his tusks seemed to curl inward. He was on the defensive now, losing his footing, and oh boy, was it glorious to see that beefcake struggle.

He growled quietly, his chest rising and falling with a deep huff as he failed to retaliate to that.

-There, right there; the shrewdness of the human mind.-

-This strange glint in Ax’s eyes, the uniquely human way of lips parting and teeth flashing in an ambiguous way that was a threat on any creature’s face but a humans. –

-The words were quick, carefully picked and oh so sharp. He had let his defense down, again, and it came right back to bite him, again. She seemed to instinctively know where his sore spots lied, and when and how to pounce on them. And all the while she spoke no lie or threat. It was infuriating. The words were seemingly chosen so delicately that it left him no room to argue. There was no challenge to them that he could respond to with a roar and intimidation. And without an offense there was no reason to lash out, not an honorable one anyhow. –

- He could have easily stood his ground if she had picked another assortment of words, but this left him disarmed. His people rarely sparred with words, and when they did it eventually and always led to an actual sparring since one would actually utter threat or insult at some point. Other species knew of his people’s tempers, their reputation, and hence never dared argue, never mind taunt or tease. This was uncharted ground for him. –

-The Ooman had been very sophisticated in her mocking up to this point, and something in him knew from the strange glimmer in her eyes that she was very adept at threading the line of tease and insult, so much so that it must have been natural for her, and that she wouldn’t slip, not once, ever. This was likely only the beginning. –

-If he wanted to keep his sanity (and pride), he had to nip this in the bud.-

"Careful Ax” he said.

“If you turn out too great of a bother, perhaps I’ll sell you at the next trading hub. Oomans are a rare commodity. You’ll likely be bought by a rich collector and kept as a prized possession in a manor or ship for novelties sake. Your people are fond of such cushiony accommodations, are they not? "

-He wasn’t lying, he was bluffing. Totally. It would be waste after everything that transpired on the dirt-planet, sure, and something that actually didn’t sit quite right with him, but the option was on the table, if at the far end of it.-

- Frankly he had already decided that he’d have to keep her at his side, as a trophy, if you will, but she didn’t have to know that yet, and if he wanted to keep the soundness of his mind intact, he ought have her be more cautious of him.-

Max felt her heart jump again, but settled rather quickly as her brain processed just how meek that threat actually sounded, compared to what he could have intimidated her with, at least.

-“Will you though?” she asked, her attention seemingly wavering again as her gaze wandered towards the trophies on the wall.-

-His eyes narrowed-

“Perhaps”

“You do realize that you’re threatening me with a good time, right?”

-He did realize actually, but only too late. Being a prized novelty possession of some rich Aristocrat was the epitome of humiliation for a Yautja, but oomans would probably be fine, and in her case likely chew the brains out of whatever poor sod obtained her. –

-But now that poor sod was him, which he also realized way too late.-

“So anyway, where are we heading?”

-He would never admit that he felt grateful for the sudden change of subject, even less that he suspected she’d done it out of mercy. Which was, of course, impossible. He’d also never admit that this once he’d felt relieved to have received definitely-not-mercy, rather than humiliated and outraged. None of that happened actually, now that he thought about it. It was just the oomans short attention span that triggered the change of conversational topic. –

“A planet a few solar systems from here. It’s due time I meet up with my hunting brothers.”

“What for?”

“One of them is an Arbiter”, he begun, quickly adding “someone who is under direct command of our Elders”, as he knew that Max would probably inquire about it.

“I ought report to him about this incident, and that I have an ooman on my ship.”

“Oh, you’re not supposed to?”

He shook his head.

“So what exactly does that entail?”

She watched Tau shrug nonchalantly.

“I am not quite sure myself, but given the circ*mstances that brought us together, it is reasonable that you’ll assume the title of my trophy, or pet.”

Max couldn’t help herself as a stifled laugh burst past her lips, startling Tau in the process as the absurdity of the claim and situation as a whole seemed to scatter her marbles.

If it wouldn’t be for that terrifying image of herself in Leia’s space Bikini, she probably would have been able to laugh earnestly. As it stood though, her laugh seemed to be a coping mechanism to mask terror, mental exhaustion and perhaps a bit of morbid curiosity and humor.

“You’re not gonna’ put me on an actual leash or something, will you? And please don’t make me wear that bondage gear you’re rocking” she snickered.

It was meant to sound jovial, like a “haha, unless…?” kind of deal, but given that her voice broke and images of Sci-fi brothels and the like kept popping up in her mind at the word “pet”, made it all too obvious that she was quite alarmed.

-He might not have been able to decipher the last part her sentence, but the anxiety with which she asked the first part didn’t go over his head. He had no intention of that, at least not up until she brought it up. Leashing and enslaving sentient creatures was dishonorable, humiliating, and the oomans must have obviously thought so too. Perhaps dangling that option over her head would keep her in line.-

-“But that would be something akin to karmic justice, wouldn’t it?” she muttered to herself, seemingly calling back to the prior days which saw him tied and bound in that damned lab. Somehow the triumph in him at having a slight edge over the ooman as well as the will to proclaim the threat died in him with that. –

“Well” begun Tau, his shoulders now relaxed, eyes softned and tusks slightly slack “I mean if you insist”

-In an instant the oomans eyes went wide as Ax exposed her teeth once more, which was still slightly unnerving to Da'tqah-T'au, followed by a genuinely surprised and chirpy laugh.-

-At least this venture wouldn’t be boring, so much he was sure of. –

-<->-

In the following hours he made sure to brief her on space-travel, made it clear that despite her curiosity and lacking concentration she was absolutely to never touch any buttons or levers and the likes. Max was getting the feeling that he regarded her as a mischievous cat that would give their owner a dead-pan stare as it shoved a glass off the counter, and Tau was thinking exactly that, only in his head he saw ditzy Max mess with technology she didn’t understand out of boredom, or whatever else caused oomans to behave self-destructively and against their better judgement.

He then led her to room adjacent to the kitchen, which seemed to be a bathroom and first-aid station in one, both areas separated by a foggy glass-half-wall, and informed her that her bandages were due for a change. Which he followed up with grabbing the back of her shirt and sliding the whole thing off her shoulders while she was preoccupied with taking in the room, only to receive a shriek that left his translator ringing while Max squeaked out an “are you insane?!”, and feverishly wrapped her arms around her chest. Tau was adamant about Max needing to “toughen up” and just let him clean what remained of the wounds as well as changing the gel dressing, and Max was absolutely not content with suddenly stripping down and getting man-handled. The following encounter was very much akin to trying to dunk a cat into the bathtub, with neither backing down until Max had to give up given that Tau had easily maneuvered her into the position he needed atop the examination table, and that absolutely zero f*cks were given about that fact that her torso was stark naked and scenarios like this happened in bad p*rn and kinky hentai.

The ordeal left her rattled, but that didn’t last long after rationalizing that plenty of medical personnel had seen her butt-naked before, and that Tau had no malicious intentions whatsoever.

Later she managed to find some metal wire that she fashioned into a make-shift safety-pin to keep the front of her shirt closed and conceal whatever dignity she had left, which seemed to amuse the almost-eight-foot-tall douchebaguette to no end.

The first ‘night’ made her feel somewhat seasick, but she managed to curb it after tossing the ‘wet-dog’ hide into a corner and wrapping herself up in the one that reminded her so much of butterscotch. The metal bed only cushioned by the milk-scented hide seemed to also be doing a number on her back, with her spine cracking and creaking when she’d stretch in the morning, which at first was very disconcerting to Tau since he feared that she broke and that he’d have to spend yet more time patching her up, but later turned into ridicule at how fragile and feeble human bodies were.

The next day went by idly with most time spent in a Q&A in which Max would bombard Tau with, what he deemed, common knowledge and him trying to curb her curiosity and enthusiasm for the sake of his mental well-being by assigning her with reading the ship-manual, which to his disdain only brought up the topic that she could neither read his native language, nor “common” - the most simple and universal language used by space-farers, which added yet another thing he needed to take care of to his list.

"We're making a slight detour", he said eventually in the midst of Max's ramblings "there's a hub near by"

"Oh, you wanna get rid of me after all?"

Tau gave her a dead-pan stare and said " I just might"

Chapter 9: A not so cliche, but still somewhat cliche, arrival at a marketplace OR how to get lost 101

Chapter Text

Max came to learn that a so called 'hub' was almost the alien equivalent of a Gas-Station-Rest-Stop, if only with more opportunities for trade.

She'd seen the 'thing' from the co*ckpit first; orbiting a small uninhabitable planet. It looked like it might have been a space-ship at some point. Now it seemingly had all sorts of compartments welded into it and was revolving around a dead rock, seeming much like a lone island.

Tau signaled in for a docking permit, and during that process he took to briefing Max on what was to happen next.

"Wait, you're going to take me with you?" she asked in surprise, watching as her kidnapper(?) shrugged his shoulders and retorted "it'd be foolish to leave you to your own fickle devices".

And that was that. He equipped her with some sandals (most likely modified ones from his own arsenal), and some sort of respirator that he'd spent the better part of the 'morning' adjusting to fit her small face.

"Most hubs skim on fresh oxygen since most species are hardy enough to tolerate lower O2 percentages for extended periods of time. Oomans are not amongst those" he said, fiddling with the straps as he fitted it to her head. The blonde yet again found herself surprised and fascinated at the sheer amount of grace and deftness Tau displayed while doing so, for despite his long and sharp claws, she had yet to even feel their sharp edges ghost along her skin.

"Noted" she said, only to watch Tau halt his movements and furrow his brow ridges in confusion before he decided that this was yet another case of not-literal-meaning.

"What are we even docking there for?" she asked whilst Tau proceeded to wrap a thick brown cloak around her, fastening it around her waist and making sure not an inch of skin would slip when she moved. The edges of her sleeves dangled a good bit beneath her hands, meaning that she could lift her arms without risk of her fingers peeking out. The length of the cloak also ensured that no such thing happened to her feet as she walked.

Tau rolled his eyes as if the answer to her question was blatantly obvious and tugged the hood so far down that nothing but the respirator could be seen, leaving her with... very little field of view.

"Many things, ooman. For one it will be best to upgrade our translators" he answered, however, not elaborating on the many other things he mentioned.

Max lifted her hood after a moment of waiting for him to list the other things, and stared up at Tau with expectant curiosity, only for the alien to roll his eyes and tug the hood into its previously arranged position.

"You're being vague" claimed the blonde, receiving a click of his tusks in return "it would be much too troublesome to explain"

They left it at that, and with Max sitting perched atop one of the crates, she proceeded to watch Tau slip into his own gear while he explained a few basics to her, or how she'd rather put it; laid the rules down.

Most of it boiled down to not do anything that could alert others to her being human, and stay close to Tau. Or well, that's the first two rules she managed to actively listen to before all her attention and mental faculties became consumed with other stuff.

One thing she realized was that the hood obfuscated her face so much, that not even the beast of a companion she had acquired could tell where she was looking at. In other words; she could stare without being called out, so stare she did.

Yet again Max was utterly mesmerized by the sheer ripple and flexing of tendons and muscles as the hunk of beef maneuvered through the room, slipping on belts, armor plates, devices and the likes with such careful deliberation and grace that she was sure without the shadow of a doubt that he and his people modeled the olden Mayan and Greek gods of human history. Meshing clung to him like a second skin, and the metal plates were seemingly welded from templates of his body.

She previously akinned him to Adonis, to Kratos and the likes, but getting to see him move like this, lift big crates and move aside heavy structures with ease whilst his flesh and body moved and flexed like lightning and thunder, Max came to find that he eclipsed, more than eclipsed; the-moon-is-grabbing-the-f*cking-sun-and-RKOing-it, all and everyone she previously compared him to.

Max felt the hairs on her nape stand whilst a slow, tingly shiver crept down her spine and settled in her gut like lead. Some primal, animalistic part of her tensed its muscles, flared its teeth. It was fear, she realized, and so must've Tau, for he shot her the same slightly-smug-slightly-sneering look that he graced her with every time she had spooked thus far. Adrenaline, even just a few teeny-tiny slivers from slight scares, was apparently very easy for him and his people to pick up on, especially in an enclosed space. "Fear" was a disgusting stench to Tau, as he explained. It symbolized weakness, and was often tinged with rage or despondent fervor, which, in his words, spoiled the thrilling smell of Adrenaline. In its pure form, being one born of either blank terror and instincts of survival, or genuine blood pumping excitement, it was the most pleasant and provocative of all. Max wasn't sure if he was aware of all the human connotations of the word provocative, but given that he often couldn't tell her figurative speech from literal, never mind her idioms, she chose to file that info away for later. That and the fact that fear, terror and alarm, unlike in human language, had apparently quite different meanings and symbolized different values to him.

-So, whenever she had gotten spooked or startled, he had so far always chuckled at her embarrassing display, finding her frightful disposition equal parts amusing, and unbecoming. There was a duality to his feelings towards Ax, which he couldn't quite make heads or tails of yet. On one hand he delighted in his superiority over the ooman, on the other he had somewhat ceased to view her as prey, but not quite an equal companion. Either way, something in him bristled at the thought of this little critter being pathetic, frightful and weak, especially since she had proven that she can, that she was, more than such an easy prey. He had felt the sharp edge of her wit on himself, not that he'd admit it, of course. This female was weird, an enigma, an anomaly. -

The woman willed the weird sensation away, instead focusing on the males' talons. She gulped at the idea of there coming a day when she would see her companion putting his physique to use in a fight. Granted, there was the day when she had told humanity to go kick rocks and freed Tau, but that moment was rather hectic and clouded by blood loss, not that she could claim to have seen much of the action anyhow after having spent most of rampage face down on the ground.

"Ax" he called, rolling his eyes and huffing with exasperation as he watched her jolt.

"Yeah?" she quipped, putting up her best effort into not sounding like she had been put on the spot after not having listened to a word he said for what must have been a few minutes at this point.

"Your tresses" he said, causing the blond to blank out for a moment. Well, there goes her dignity yet again. Context was a much needed tool when conversing with Tau, and not having gathered that whilst being busy ogling him and shoving down her gremlin into the deep dark caverns of her brain, left her scrambling.

In three heavy and swift steps Tau covered the length of the room, sending a slight surge of jitters through her veins and her back against the wall-panel. Max's breath hitched as his talon slid beneath her hood. She felt the slight nip of his claws drag against her forehead and up and back her scalp, before his talon gently and swiftly returned to her hairline and repeated the motion; brushing her hair back and covering every inch of her skin in goosebumps due to the contact.

"Golden tresses" he huffs "make sure to hide them from sight"

What was meant to be a 'yes' came out as, albeit a very quiet, a rather high-pitched peep.

-Tau raised his brow-ridges at what he assumed to be a sound of distress or pain, though quickly crossed the latter off as the smell of ooman blood failed to reach him. His talon came to cup the females tiny jaw, lifting her face up for a better look and coming to observe those pet-like, big eyes being widened and saturated with an unreadable expression. He was careful to not allow his claws to scrape the delicate skin, but could feel it heating up beneath his fingertips and the pulse hiding in her flesh fluttering a few irregular patterns.-

-He observed skin turn red and found himself surprised at the sudden anger. No, not anger, he realized when not being met by that familiar scent or the scrunch of brows that oomans show when enraged. He failed to tell what the ooman was feeling, which unsettled him more than he thought it would. There were many familiar things to see in her face, some unfamiliar, and the combination of them was foreign and indecipherable to him. Oomans should be easy to read, what with their open displays of emotion, but having had Max on board he has come to find that many of the expressions she showed were combinations and had so many factettes that he could not even begin to unravel them, and this one was apparently one of them. He was intrigued by the puzzle, by the new information to learn, but at the same time annoyance seeped into his bones at just how needlessly complicated oomans seem to be. Such a fickle and convoluted species. No wonder they make bad warriors and stump their people. He reckons their minds are too big of a chaos even for them to understand, leading to poor combat performance and behaviors that Yautja cannot account for, hence the reputation for their wit.-

"So?" Max croaks out after gathering her nerves into a tight bundle. In the span of half-a-minute Max had, without a shadow of a doubt, realized that she is indeed a sinner, and that she probably shoulda had gotten laid back at the Gas-Station-Diner when she had the chance. Now her general disposition to being touch-starved made her react to the gentle, but very deadly, caress of the Aliens' claws in a very inadequate manner. It was pleasant, very pleasant to be petted like that, and very natural for a human to react kindly to such soft touch. Humans are very physical and affectionate creatures after all, and she was an absolute bitch for being pet and caressed. She had absolutely melted at friends and platoon buddies combing their fingers through her hair or drawing shapes onto her back with their fingertips. What was not normal, however, was the allure that the presence of the claws provided. Or maybe it was, she wasn't very schooled in human psychology after all, but what she did know was that the lines between fear and excitement, pain and pleasure, and danger and comfort, all too happily overlapped at times, especially under certain circ*mstances.

Especially if you turn out to be a closeted xenophile, quipped her inner voice, which Max swiftly strangled with all the vicious righteousness it deserved.

-Tau pondered over the females reaction for a moment longer before gently squeezing Ax, eliciting another noise of surprise. He retracted his talon with a shake of his head and a reserved sigh, concluding "you oomans are weird".-

Max's hands reached up to instinctively touch the skin beneath her jaw as if to make sure that she wasn't gushing blood. She rubbed the places where his claws made contact, ushering away the tingles lingering in her skin, but the sensation was all but branded into her mind. She wondered if he'd react in kind should he find her fingers on his face or near his throat. A question for another day, and one where she needed to be very, very drunk.

-+-+-+-

Stepping out from the spacecraft, she was greeted by a sight that she could only marvel at. The inside of this so-called-Hub looked like a cramped shopping-mall, metal catwalks connecting shops above, all kinds of different colored lights competing against one another, smells and sounds flooding her like a thick fog. There were so many different, strange, scary, cute, fascinating and exiting creatures shuffling all around, each commanding her attention and making her spin her head around like a kid in a candy shop.

Max couldn't find quite the right comparison for what she was seeing, only being able to akin it to a place that looked like the bastard-lovechild of the undercity from 'Arcane' and the lower levels of 'Coruscant' from Star Wars.

Her mental catalogue went into overdrive as she found her body move closer to the crowd, observing a passing alien with six-lower limbs and a catfish-like face whose eel-like skin glowed with bioluminescent blue patterns. Another creature stood with its four tentacle arms crossed in front of its chest at a stand that sold... Max had no idea what it sold, but it looked like precious stones. Its face was covered mostly by a respirator, and its clothes looked like garments straight from a magical fantasy land. What intrigued her most though, was its otherworldly skin which seemingly had the pigmentation and texture of a plant. There was a UV lamp hanging above it, which would suggest that the creature was indeed plant-like. And if that wasn't enough to have Max's head bluescreen, there was also a soft-shelled egg hidden within those tentacle arms. So many impossible characteristics in one creature! Well, it wasn't that impossible, since, well; there the creature stood, existing leisurely. Max's body all but vibrated with excitement as she tried to get closer and have a good look, all common sense thrown out the window at that point.

Her attentive partner was quick to pull her back to himself with a slight growl. She felt his chest rumble against her back, feeling his agitation through the grasp he had on her upper arm.

Max turned her head and whispered a quick 'sorry' so quietly that no one but Tau would've been able to perceive it. Given that he now was wearing a metal mask over his head, she had no way of telling what he was thinking, but she assumed that he was glaring at her, utterly annoyed how quickly and nonchalantly she had failed to heed his words. Oh well, he apparently thought of her as mischievous and ditzy cat already, so there wasn't much of reputation to loose. Something in her, the chronically online gremlin, thought that he would find the subreddit 'one-orange-braincell' incredibly entertaining, and she suddenly felt profound wistfulness at the thought that the glory of the human internet was lost to her forever.

Standing by the edge of the shopping-street, for lack of a better word, she noticed how the passerby's made a berth around them, and only them, not granting the same curtesy to others standing and sitting by the edges. Most of them dared to stare at the two of them, more-so Tau, for only a moment before quickly averting their gaze. Others shot a respectful nod at him in passing before regarding Max with what she could only guess to be confusion.

Apparently, Tau had a reputation.

Tau, as if in thought, was gazing around the plaza, occasionally letting out a slight not-quite-growl at passing creatures that walked too close or looked too intently at the disguised human. Max lifted her head up at him, slightly at a loss as to how to process this whole thing.

"They know you" she whispered.

"Only of me" responded Tau whilst setting the pace and walking into a seemingly randomly picked direction.

"Elaborate" huffed the blonde, slightly louder than she meant to.

"Quiet" he warned, tucking the human closer. He took that opportunity to brush the inside of his wrist across her back and chest, making sure that his scent clung to her.

"My people, the Yautja, are renowned hunters and warriors across all galaxies" he explained "these wretches will have a keen interest in you regardless of your race, for my people rarely seen in company"

At that Max suppressed another huff, lifting her face up at Tau and allowing her eyes to peek from underneath the hood, regarding him with an expression that even he could read without problem.

Then why did you even bring me?

Another rumble in his chest emerged, one that she had come to know as a mix of amusem*nt and exasperation.

"Would you have stayed put had I left you behind?"

She opened her mouth to argue, but realized that her curiosity would have gotten the better of her and that she would have absolutely rationalized a bad decision against her better judgement.

"Worry not little Ax. They will not harm you so long as you stay close and carry my scent"

The pace Tau set was brisk. Where he took one step, she had to take three, and she wondered if he was deliberate, for while occupied with keeping up, she had no time to observe her surroundings, and that left bitter disappointment in her chest. There was so much to see.

Eventually they had seemingly reached their destination and entered the small store, the entrance being so short that Tau had to actively duck, and Max rolled her eyes as he cut in front of another potential customer to do so, who took one brief look at the beast and decided that he did not need to shop there anymore.

The disguised blond followed suit and was told to not touch anything, to which she responded with a quick, sighed 'yessir'. This caused Tau to whip his head back at her in surprise, cringing at the word, since what came out on his end of the translator was nothing short of "yes master". He quickly shook his head and decided that he wouldn't be unpacking why the ooman was suddenly addressing him as such.

Tau stepped up to the counter where the shopkeep and a customer were bartering and haggling. Her translator was doing a heroic job translating two different languages to her at the same time, though it obviously struggled to do so since the delay became quite long and many of the translations ended mid sentence. Oh, and there was the fact that it was emitting a quiet buzz into her ear and slightly heating up due to the stress.

She felt her heart sink and the ache of a freshly broken teenage-heart at the fact that both of the customers were mummified in much a similar way to herself. Max instead took the opportunity to walk around the shop itself, but not before sighing at Tau standing near the commotion with his arms crossed and waiting impatiently- like a Karen. He must've been used to preferential treatment, but alas, if she saw that absolute mountain of a creature approach her, she too would drop everything she was doing to accommodate.

All sorts of devices and electronics littered the shelves. And with littered she absolutely did mean littered. The amount of care that went into organizing and stacking the merchandise must've been around the same one would give an annoying in-law. There were two literally identical spherical objects sitting two shelves from one another, and a part of her wanted to put them next to each other so badly that she felt her teeth itch.

She couldn't even begin to imagine what those many devices in various states of disrepair could be used for, and thusly felt extremely out of her element.

Max felt a weird mixture of interest and boredom as she looked at the incomprehensible tech. Meanwhile Tau had asked the shopkeeper for a specific kind of translator, who had none in stock, but tried his best to sell Tau another kind. Disgruntled he made for the exit, dragging Max with him, and that was pretty much how their next two trips to two different tech-shops went.

Apparently Tau was looking for a very specific and very modern kind of translator. Max was progressively growing more impatient, feeling like a bratty kid tagging along with their parent while grocery shopping, and had instead taken to picking apart Taus brain with questions, of which he only managed to answered two. Those being that they were looking for a self-learning translator, and one that had been trained on human language at that, and that they'd be then looking for a manual on common and outfitting Max with gear suitable for travel.

When Max had opened her mouth for a third question, Tau all but ripped her closer, and suddenly his usually relaxed and somewhat controlled grasp felt like metal-clamps and ice. For a brief moment she thought that this is it, and sent a prayer to Cthulhu. The rumble in his chest sounded like an approaching storm and for but a second Max thought she wasn't even looking at Tau, but something else entirely. His muscles had flexed, not from normal use, but high-strung tension. His face was fixed straight ahead, having spotted something that had put him on edge.

Max followed his gaze and found her breath hitch when she spotted a similar mask to Taus tower above the crowd.

"Turn left and make for the Iej'i goods. Make haste"

"How do I-"

"You will manage"

She did not hesitate after that. Max turned on her heel and briskly walked into the direction he pointed out. Something about seeing another creature like Tau was incredibly off-putting. She had no real reservation about her companion since she knew him, sorta. Seeing this other one made her insides churn with dread. She reckoned it was like not being scared of ones own Pitbull, but not being able to say the same for other Pitbulls. Also his sudden apprehension and strain did precisely zilch to calm her.

She dared to have one look over her shoulder as she weaseled through the crowd, much too preoccupied with the arrival of another Yautja to notice that the creatures she passed took note of her scent, and saw the other guy put his hand on Taus shoulder who quickly mirrored the gesture. Her knees almost buckled as the masks came off and a very scarred alien first looked at Tau, before turning his head towards the direction she went in, and by extension; her.

Her pace quickened after that, and she may have found herself utterly lost because of it.

Chapter 10: Stars above, and the age of foreshadowing

Chapter Text

If someone had told her that by the end of the week Max would have not only been let in on a state secret, but then proceeded to give the government the metaphorical finger, be abducted by a humongous alien, and then get lost in a place that would have been every Sci-Fi nerd's wet dream, Max would have personally shoved that person in a straightjacket and dragged them off to an Asylum.

Well. She was f*cked, not literally (not yet), and not hyperbolically. The situation was dire.

Having walked straight a-not-so-little plaza, Max couldn't really formulate one coherent thought.

If she thought the streets she was on before looked lively, this place was absolutely teeming with creatures.

The shops, each accessible via catwalks or slim staircases that violated every OSHA regulation out there, stretched to the very roof of this place, which was a glass-dome letting the light, or lack-there-of, from space infiltrate the innards. Many stalls littered the center and betwixt those, Aliens of all kinds, shapes, sizes, and color mingled. Her Translator was picking up so many stray sentences, each of a different language, that it was starting to heat up significantly in the shell of her ear until it seemingly had given up its valiant effort, and announced that it would shorten the radius of eligible speech for translation.

On one hand, Max had found herself relieved that the translator wouldn't be blowing and/or melting off her ear just yet, but on the other hand, she was somewhat bummed that she wouldn't get to eavesdrop on the various creatures and their topics (and also maybe get a heads up should attention fall on her).

It was only when a hulking creature, even bigger than Tau, though most of the bulk could be attributed to feathers, brushed past her flank and left an almost electric sensation to seep into her cloth and skin, that she realized just how overwhelmed and overstimulated she felt.

"What the f*ck" was the only string of thought within her mind, repeating like a mantra as the realization that she was way, WAY, out of her depths continued to sink in.

Her feet felt glued to the spot, and her mind was struggling with whether to focus on what had just happened, or on everything that was happening around her. Feral instinct and curious intellect were competing, whilst rational had long since thrown in the towel. Her bones itched and her spine tingled at the sheer amount of plain dangerous and strange-looking creatures, at their claws and the weapons they carried, and her soul ached with starving curiosity and gleeful wonder.

There was also that nip of anxiety and confusion in her nape at what just happened when Tau sent her away. From the look of it, he seemed tense, but didn't seem to have worries about his own safety given how amicable he interacted with his kin. This meant that he was on edge because ofhersafety, which just conjured up more questions. He must've deemed it safer to send her off alone into the midst of a bunch of alien travelers despite knowing how intrigued everyone would be by a human. Ergo; this community was way more sound than what he made her believe, or the new arrival was justthat much moredangerous, that sending her off on her own would have been the better bet. Either way, Max was going to trust his judgment onboth parties, for now. If Sci-fi and common narrative tropes had taught her anything, it'd be to trust your knight-in-shining-(though rather skimpy)-armor's instructions, unless she was keen to re-enact being the damsel in distress whisked off to a flesh market.

Tau had been as cagey and brief in his answers as one can get, but Max had gathered by now that humans were a rare sight in the galaxy, which, from what Max had read between the lines, had something to do with his people's hunting practices, or well, precautions. Apparently, there were a few stray human colonies, some self-governed, others under the protection of more or less benevolent civilizations, strewn about the galaxy, most of which attribute their existence to abductions by various factions from way back when. There were also strays, but those tended to be in suchgoodcompany that they wouldn't be messed with, or stayed hidden, much like she was now. Given the rarity of humans, like any rare thing, there was a demand for them. Be it for trophies to display in a species zoo, or scientific analysis and autopsies by other civilizations, or just plain for their biological components to use in sci-fi-tribal-witch-doctor-medicine, one would be hard-pressed to find an alien who wouldn't be interested in getting their hands (or paws...or claws) on such a rare specimen.

A mink-looking alien bumped into her from behind, gurgling a sound of distress as it almost dropped whatever it was carrying, before shoving past her with a hiss that her translator deciphered into a "no stand in the way". It flared its teeth, of which the green-nosed alien had multiple rows, at her, before quickly hiding them upon having caught a sniff of her scent.

"Kufan k Yautja? Hukan k imu" it then purred, its voice sounding something like a mix between a cat's mewl, and middle-aged woman with a 5-pack-a-day smoking habit.

"Companion of Yautja? Apologies of me" translated her device with some trouble, before informing her that the vocabulary and grammar were hard to translate into something comprehensive for humans without altering the meaning of what was said.

Two, bright, obnoxiously green orbs darted around as if looking for her companion, before staring expectantly at her, seemingly waiting for a dismissal or anything else that'd suggest that the apology was accepted.

She was almost about to let a "no worries" slip past her lips, but kept her mouth shut as her eyes wandered up to the round ears of the creature, which featured a translating device that seemed even worse for wear than her own.

For a moment she deliberated, and watched as the furry creature played with the edges of the box it was carrying using all four of its hands. Given that it was about two-thirds the size of Max, and frankly adorable, despite the claws and fangs, she decided to take the gamble. The human instinct to trust and adore fluffy creatures was strong in Max, even though she should most definitely know better being a zoologist, and she proceeded to take a closer step, which made the alien notably more nervous. Whether that was due to some primal instinct of being wary of bigger creatures than itself, or due to anxiety of a social mishap, was tough to tell at that point.

"Iej'i goods" she whispered in the quietest voice she could muster, and in precisely the way Tau had said it, slight hiss, rasp, and saying 'hu'nle' instead of 'goods'.

It looked quizzically up at her hooded face, before tilting its head to the side and tapping the rickety device in its ear "understand no Yautja"

Max's shoulders sank, and that must've meant something similar to the Mink-alien, or it felt bad for not being able to help, either way, it then swiped its long tail against her concealed calf

"Come, me feed you"

It gave her no opportunity to disagree, for the fluffy creature rebalanced the box it was carrying into its three arms, and used the remaining one to grab her by the sleeve and proceed to guide her to wherever it was going.

She suppressed a distressed sound as she felt the cold hand of stress press into her neck.She was getting off-track, dangerously so. The hold the mink-akin alien had on her was relaxed enough to be able to turn on her heel and book it, but she figured that'd only arouse suspicion, if not mark her as a thief. Then again, this little six-limbed creature seemed agreeable enough, though she didn't know if she had to thank Tau's imposing scent or the creatures' inherent goodwill for this friendly disposition. There was no way for her to twist out of this situation without violating every polite social convention.

Looking closer, the creature's claws looked somewhat like the paws of a bear, if only more prehensile and sophisticated. It was wearing a jumpsuit that wouldn't be out of place to see at a Renaissance fair, and the fur seemed to have reflective qualities in certain lights.

She was about to voice her mumblings out loud as she began cataloging, but caught herself before she blew her cover.

Not being able to speakcommon, most aliens would quickly figure her for a human if she started conversing in English, thanks to their translators. So either speaking out the Yautja words she managed to pick up from Tau conversing with her, or using signs was a nifty workaround. Tau showed her a few basic gestures while they were waiting for the docking permit, and, the ass that he was, had been surprised when Max could sign them back at him without a hitch during their preparation to enter the hub itself.

Gently she tugged back, earing the desired reaction when the alien looked back over its shoulder.

With her other hand, she rubbed the top of her head, leaned in a bit closer, and hushed out her name in the same way Tau would say it, before shortly hovering her hand over to the top of the fluffy one's head 'my name's is Ax, what's yours?'

"Toonz" it mewled back, blinking slowly at her before returning its gaze straight ahead and continuing to lead her. The blonde's heart almost leaped from her chest.

A slow blink!

To imagine what implication that could hold! Considering the social tone it must've been a polite gesture, and if that were to be true, then that would mean that therewasbehavioral overlap between species. Oh, what wouldn't she give to have a camera right at this moment, hell, she'd probably sell her spleen to have a pencil and some paper right at that moment.

Toonz led her up a "floor" to a brightly lit shop, if one could even call it that. It looked more like a hole in the wall with tarps and colorful sheets acting as walls and awnings, and a long high table stood right at the 'entrance' with some kind of grilling station right behind it.

The chestnut-colored fuzzy creature ushered her to sit on one of the stools at the table, and proceeded to slink behind it, setting down the box they were carrying next to the rather stout creature working the cooking station.

"Took you long enough" it huffed, turning around to look at whoever its partner brought with.

This other creature looked nothing like a mink. For a moment Max had difficulties comprehending what she was seeing, for it looked rather familiar. It was burly, and its skin was taupe and leathery with purple veins bulging over taut musculature. The nose was almost heart-shaped, and its big ears sat high on its round head, peaking out from fleshy, almost tentacle-like 'hair'. The jaw was heavyset and protruding, and only when taking a closer look at the set of elephantine tusks peeking out from the corners of its mouth, did she realize that the creature reminded her much of an Orc, if only with more bat-like features.

Three-fingered, but still surprisingly proficient in its tool use, the Orc-thing proceeded to put down a translucent plate in front of a patron sitting a few chairs away from Max. With a flick of its wrist, it cut open the carapace of whatever animal it just served, and from within that body spilled pink, steaming, jello-like meat.

The customer pulled down its respirator and quickly began shoveling down the food into its pincer-like mouth, whilst Toonz was purring quietly and unpacking the box filled with ingredients, and the Orc, whom Max presumed to be the cook, regarded her with an odd look.

At first she was grossed out by that frankly gooey and unappetizing dish, but once the scent traveled and filled her nostrils with the pungent smell of something akin to citrus, Max had found herself intrigued.

"You a friend of Toonz?" asked the cook, whilst cutting away at something she assumed to be vegetables, seemingly for a regular that had just made themselves comfortable right next to Max.

Seeing as how the already eating customer occupied the outermost seat, leaving two spare chairs between it and Max, the new arrival had encountered a variation of the old riddle of which-urinal-to-pick, and seemingly had decided that they'd rather sit next to the fellow hooded creature, rather than the chitin-warrior slurping down its food like a competitive eater, which; fair enough. It dipped its head in Max direction, presumably a gesture meant to acknowledge the awkward situation, before bringing out papyrus-like sheets from its cloak and beginning to read whilst the Orc-thing proceeded to expectantly look at Max for an answer.

Max brought her hand upwards, careful to not let it slip out of her cloak, waved in a circular motion, and then brought it to her hidden face like Tau had shown her prior. A universally known gesture that meant 'I do not speak'.

"At all?"

"Only Yautja" answered Toonz for her quickly.

"Ah shucks" said the Orc-thing, showing off their own translator like Toonz had before "Unfortunately we ain't got no fancy translator like yours. You sure are small for a Yautja"

"Companion" corrects Toonz again "much smell covers iron-flesh"

For a moment the blond felt her heart skip a beat, equally awed and terrified by the thick-furred aliens' olfactory senses. For a moment she feared her cover to be blown, but she quickly calmed herself, knowing that humans were not the only creatures whose flesh and blood betrayed the scent of velvet iron.

Max's gaze wandered towards the carapace of the animal, finding herself committing the texture of the flesh to her memory. It looked like it could be plucked from its shell like pieces from an orange.

"Want to try, stranger?" asked the cook, flourishing his hand over a crate filled with those strange insects like an invitation, making Max quickly tap the outside of her wrists against one another, meaning'I carry no money'

"Me said me feed you" chirped the fluffy one, patting at Max's cloaked hands with its paws from across the counter. Max had to suppress the immense urge to take hold of their unbelievably soft paws and start squishing their toe beans.

Max straightened her posture in an instant as rationale thought decided to make an appearance. It wouldn't be good to accept things without knowing the connotations of it. For all she knew she could be racking up a debt right this very moment with this furry fellow, and besides, accepting free things never came easy Maxine any way.

Sensing her reluctance, Toonz quickly spoke "Yautja hunt monsters that eat me kins pups. Food for companion of hunter is gratitude"

That sentence alone had brought her a greater understanding of the dynamics of this place, and by extension Tau and his people, than anything she had painstakingly managed to extract from said spandex-wearing ass. For one it explained the weird, scared reverence with which the aliens regarded him. And then there was that weird tidbit implying a benevolence to this 'blood-and-honor-culture-thing' he had going on. She'd have to press him on that later, even if that extraction of info would feel like pulling teeth.

Max shook her head from side to side, which ironically meant'yes'in common. The alien swiped its long tail against her leg from behind the counter, seemingly pleased, before swatting at the cook.

The Orc-thing pushed the crate with the insects closer, cracking one open in the middle and allowing her to take a good look at them before asking"stranger, these are poisonous to many. Can you eat them?"

"You can do everythingonce"quipped her inner voice, sounding weirdly reasonable. Death by extraterrestrial food poisoning was not on her bucket list, and she doubted Tau would be too pleased either.

She took a good look at the bound creatures. The yellow carapace was vibrant and thick, and their antenna and legs twitched despite being tied up much like humans would do with crabs and lobsters back on Earth. For all intents and purposes; it looked like a giant pillbug. Its flesh and blood glistened like innards of earth-born insects did, and there was a slight earthy and metal-esque twang to it. It was probably hemolymphoid; a copper-based creature. Humans can eat those, and she had insects before. Fried crickets are surprisingly tasty.

She leaned in closer, slightly pulling the respirator away from her face to get a better sniff, and confirmed that the scent was the same. She was good to go, and taking a look at the almost completely eaten portion of the patron next to her, the meat began to look more and more inviting. The smell was both zesty and hearty, and it made her mouth water with curiosity.

Max shook her head, and Toonz chirped as they began helping the cook prepare her serving.

She would still take precautions and make sure not to swallow immediately. It was a common thing to do when testing whether a plant was edible. It'd just require her to press the item against her palate and look out for a numbing or stinging sensation. Should neither happen, she would be good to go ahead and eat it.

Probably.

-+-+-+-

Tau didn't want to admit it, but he had lost the oomans scent a while ago. So, sitting across from his brother-in-arms and nursing a tankard of sweet c'ntlip, he was growing increasingly restless.

Hkash-Xche was a tiring encounter even during more opportune times, so with having sent away the mushy Ax on her own, conversing with him was getting increasingly taxing. He wasn't an unwelcome encounter per se, but Da'tqah-T'au couldn't claim that he was pleased to meet the hunter at any given time. Not that he had any ill will, open scores, or had otherwise done anything to scorn Tau. Their clans were on amicable terms, despite differing viewpoints on certain matters. The two of them had hunted before, and despite this, no, perhaps maybe exactly because of this, Tau was just not particularly fond of Hkash-Xche, who he couldn't call either friend or foe.

There had never been any grand insults, never a kill stolen, or a hunting code overtly broken. But there have been lines towed, lax stances on traditions taken, and one particular story told one-hundred-and-fifty-three times too many for Hkash-Xches' presence to evoke anything other than indignation. Perhaps the fact that during their first hunt, far from Yautja-Prime or Clan-Outposts, they have done as many brotherhoods and sisterhoods do when blood runs fiery, when desperation of the flesh and ancient instincts kick and claw with a vicious vengeance, also played a part in his current agitation.

Coupling, in their people, was rare by design. By nature, Yautja were untethered, prickly, and thrived in the occasional solitude. Also, many an adult warrior perished during hunts, fights and Clan-wars, so bonding came with the risk of a life-long wound. In fact, it was so rare to couple, that in certain clans such arrangements have taken up their place amongst high tales, and only established Elders that have settled into a less tumultuous role and lost the restlessness and fury of youth ever did.

Thus, same-sex-trysts were not unknown to their people, only really frowned upon and judged when individuals purposefully would forgo the choice of the opposite sex partner; when seed and lust went to waste that otherwise could have sired a pup. But even then, it was still much more accepted than wasting one's zeal tasting the fervor of a lesser species altogether. It'd be considered an insult to one's bloodline to want for a weaker thing; to waste wanton on something that was neither itself fit, nor would result in something with the pedigree expected and needed for life amongst Yautja.

Mating was always without strings or shame, and Da'tqah-T'au had never come to regret his encounters, be it the most brutal ones during breeding season that have left him as battered as after a fight, or quick and needy ruts during adventures with hunters of his, or allied, brotherhoods. And yet,and yet,he found himself wishing to be able to untether himself from this unnecessary acquaintance.

A few days ago he regarded Ax with slight judgment over the way she and her obvious previous mate steeped in unspoken anxiety, and now he was back to understanding what that unbecoming awkwardness felt like, especially since at this moment he had no time to dally.

Sometimes he wondered what his brothers would say should they ever cross paths withHkash-Xche and find out that the older has had plunged his blade into Da'tqah-T'au that one time when they first met. Especially after they have heard him complain so many times about his distaste for this particular clan-ally and his methods during hunts.

Perhaps it would make for a good distraction when he comes to confess that he's picked up an ooman on his travels.

"So, is that pitiful, tinyamedhasomeone leading you to good hunting grounds?" asked the green male before taking another sip of the beverage. Yautja had little custom for 'small-talk' as Ax had called it, but not for the first time had Tau wished forHkash-Xche to lack bluntness.

"It has been many cycles since I've wetted my blade next to yours,mei'hswei"

Inwardly he bristled at the term of familiarity. It added to the growing knot of displeasure within him.

"I fear not, Hkash-Xche" he answered, thinking of ways to explain the matter without giving away the oomans presence, or lying "a matter I have to take up with anArbiterof my clan"

"Ah, anArbiter. Hmm" hums the older, downing the rest of his beverage "usually meanskiande amedha"

Da'tqah-T'au made a correction toone-hundred-and-fifty-fourtimes as he watched the fern-green male brush his black, greying tresses back, baring the acid-burned right sight of his face. The eye had long since glossed over and lost its vision, but the warrior was adamant about keeping it. 'Why?' one may ask, and well, Da'tqah-T'au had made the mistake of asking that question the very first time the two of them met out on a hunting mission to destroy an established nest of Xenomorphs.

It was an odd eighty years or-so ago, back when Da'tqah-T'au had only recently come to encounter his first ooman on a space-hub. At that point in time Tau was thoroughly disgusted with the creatures and had been able to scoffingly commiserate with the elder warrior. Now he was able to share the pain of a chipped ego, but at the same time somewhat lost the ability to share the resentment.

"A century and a half ago" barked his not-friend, making Da'tqah-T'au almost roll his eyes at the scorned male.

And so began the recounting of the same old tale, in which Hkash-Xche and his battle-brothers, all proud and distinguished warriors, were tasked with exterminating the crew of a mixed-party space vessel. It was a rather large ship manned by representatives of a recently established coalition, 12 different species on deck, and their cargo; hibernating Xenomorph brood that they've insisted on recovering despite many a Yautja clan's warnings. Originally it was supposed to be an easy task, the coalition scientists and gunmen no match for a handfull of blooded hunters. Not even their Xenomorph 'offspring' was troublesome, for, as expected, containment of the black serpents had been an exercise in futility. However, even though the recently born drones of the 12 rather fragile species were bested easily enough, the remaining ones, which could be heard scampering and observing through the vents, had proven themselves to have emerged from ooman blood; of eight oomans that had not been mentioned to be boarded on the ship. There was also a ninth one which had managed to elude the carnage, no, not only elude, but also managed to dispose of several of the black monsters in a manner most cowardly.

Hkash-Xche, after splitting the hunting party in search of the remaining beasts, was the first to stumble across the ooman, who had revealed itself to him, seemingly in hopes of allyship. The green Yautja would never forget the ooman, its face and machinations were burned into his mind as deeply as the acid was into his hide. The ooman male was young, with radiant pale eyes and a long golden mane tipped in the blood of its fellow kinsmen. Its face bore the claw markings of the xenomorph; three thick lines horizontally across the middle of the face, just short of lip and eyes, and allowed the velvet to paint the lower face in red. It was smart enough to mask its scent and heat and had caked its skin in coal and drenched its cloth in water. And so, standing in the hallway and trembling due to the cold, it looked so utterly pathetic that Hkash-Xche had not even bothered to inform the critter of its destined fate.

As per protocol, the Yautja was required to dispose of the ooman swiftly, lest another of those parasites made it burst with a new drone. But Hkash-Xche, like the Yautja often did, underestimated the little thing. Down came the Yautja's claw, the golden-maned male jumped back, another claw followed, and again the smaller one evaded, allowing the claw to plunge into the circuitry of the door closeby, electrocuting the attacker and providing an opportunity for the ooman to escape into the vents, where it proceeded to evade all five Yautja while siccing the remaining Xenomorphs on their tails.

And it certainly was the oomans doing, doors opening and closing at inopportune times, alarms blaring out of the blue, hallways being obscured by mist and fog, rooms opening up to the vacuum of space and claiming both Yautja and a Black Serpent alike.

Eventually, hours later, there remained three living beings on board;Hkash-Xche, the ooman, and the last and most vivacious Xenomorph.Hkash-Xche had taken wounds, had grown tired and slow, and the ooman had seemingly had its own scuffles in the vent, looking worse for wear than during their first encounter. By the oomans design the three of them ended up at the helm, each within striking distance of one another, though none willing to make the first move. The serpent prowled behind the control panels, the Yautja stood with his glaive at the ready, and the ooman perched atop the outermost panel with a scavenged blaster in its puny hands. What its original plan was, Hkash-Xche couldn't tell even if he tried, but it had apparently decided that it'd needHkash-Xche for its own survival, and thus it instigated the last stand. The golden-mane fired the blaster at the ceiling lights, sending the glass crashing down and cutting off the Xenomorph's cruel tail spike, startling it forward into the Yautjas range.

The two beasts danced, each a formidable foe of claw and muscle, but one mistake sent the glaive flying and the Yautja tumbling down. Within the same moment the Black Serpent surged forward, and only channeling all of his strength did the green predator manage to keep the monster's inner mouth from burying itself into his skull. The pitter-patter of steps went unnoticed to the ball of chitin and muscle, but the ooman had seized the opportunity and mustered all of its strength to pierce the weapon through the Xenomorph's head.

Hkash-Xche roared as the acid-blood came pouring down on him, glaive buried next to his head and allowing the green plasma to scathe his face. And then-and then,the ooman leveraged the weapon to roll the dead serpentoffofHkash-Xche, lodging the glaive free and pressing the blade into his throat. The Yautja had no fight left in him, too spent from the battle and with too many grievous wounds to prevent what followed next. Even his attempt at at disheartening the creature by swiping his claws deep into its calf only momentarily dissuaded the ooman before it barked something in its native tongue at him. It said some more words, before dropping the glaive and limping away, grantingHkash-Xche misplaced, disgracefulmercy.

Oh the insult.Hkash-Xche spent the next 50 years in search of the wretched creature, seeking to right this wrong, to prove himself the greater hunter; to reclaim his honor. But he never found the golden-mane again, and had to cease the effort when it became clear that the ooman had passed its species' life expectancy. Instead, he channeled his inadequacy into specifically seeking out oomans to hunt, even if he had to goad them into those hunts, or instigate them in ways many clans would sneer upon.

Hkash-Xche always recounted the doings of the ooman in question with most venomous loathing, though sometimes Da'tqah-T'au couldn't tell that tone apart from the one he'd take on whenreciting about particularly memorable encounters with females in heat.

Da'tqah-T'au groaned as the older sent his fist flying down against the table, denting the poor thing upon impact. To think that at some point this passion, this hatred, this obsession, had persuaded him into a lay,well. He doubted he would be able to tell Ax that his distaste for oomans once was the kindling for a most unfortunate acquaintance.

Sure, he could understand the pit of humiliation, even now it still rested in his stomach like a cold stone, but to channel that one indignity into the near-to-mania it was now, being willing to bend many of the sanctimonious hunting codes in order to sate one's ego was most disgraceful. No one had to right to be so proud as to violate the commandments.

Stars above, helaidwith that. He wondered if had Ax not shown him the glimpse of wickedness, had notempathized, he'd have been poised to become as resentful as Hkash-Xche over his own trifle with the earth-born oomans.

Sure, Ax was a puny ditz, lacked attention, discipline, strength, endurance, and was a poor representation of her species due to her small and underdeveloped stature, but she was witty, and behind those blue eyes lay a mind, a predator, willing and ready to pounce should the opportunity present itself.

Oomans were still lesser,of course, but not without merit.

Da'tqah-T'au used the others' grumbling over memories to swiftly put down two metal triangles, a commonly accepted currency, and stand up from his seat.

"Brother, what of thedtai'kai'-dte?"asked the green one then, obviously puzzled by the youngers unusual briefness.

"M-disain'ja, I promise there is neither hunt nor black serpent on this path"

"Pauk!Ic'jitthen?"

"I shan't tell"

"Yes, yes. I recall, your clan is uptight about such matters. Fine then, go" he scoffed, waving his hand at the server of this tavern, no doubt for another tankard.

"Good hunting to you" said Da'tqah-T'au before donning his mask once more and heading for the exit with quicker steps than he would have liked.

The search for Ax had, thankfully, proven easy. Even though her scent lingered around streets and plazas that were distinctly in the opposite of the shop he'd told her to be at, which would have seen her safe in the hands of a very,very, secretive owner, with whom Da'tqah-T'au had a rather good relationship seeing as the Yautja was the owners' prime access to rare animal and beast components.

Instead, he found the little critter sitting at a store, listening along to whatever the aliens inside were prattling about.

His heavy steps drew attention, and many creatures in the vicinity decided to make way.

She turned her head, her shoulders sinking in a way that he'd come to learn meant her relaxation, or in this case; relief. The respirator was fastened, her hands hidden, and none of the surrounding critters seemed any wiser to her identity. He'd take small victories where he could get them at this point.

She waved gently, her head lifting as if she wanted to speak, but deciding better of it.

There was a slight tremor in her wrist, and an unfamiliar scent lingered around her. A quick glance at the aliens in the vicinity revealed that none of their translators were advanced enough to translate his tongue. Good.

"You have eaten something, haven't you?" he narrowed his eyes at her "have my warnings not been sufficient?"

Max sighed. Of all the things to say after leaving so unceremoniously.

Oh well. She waved her hand in a circle and then brought it to her face.

'I do not speak'

"You are not funny"

Max wouldn't budge, looking guiltily everywhere that wasn't Tau, and he sighed like a dog owner would have upon having caught their puppy eating out of the trash.

"What have you eaten?" he inquired, only to watch her shrug her shoulders in denial.

He growled lowly, which she promptly ignored until the stare from beneath the mask became too tough to withstand.

"A possibly poisonous insect" she hushed

"Pauk-de pyode amedha!"

Chapter 11: Space racism and non-sensical adaptations

Chapter Text

--He had often felt like (and subsequently followed through) grabbing a fellow clansman or young trainee by the scruff and shaking them until they ceased being difficult. But never has it felt as appropriate as with the ooman.That was it, he decided,there was no wit to those flimsy creatures, only an unfortunately profound lack of self-preservation.--

-- His talon came to grab the nape of her neck and rattle her whilst chiding for not listening to a paya-damn-thing he said. Never has that action felt as cathartic as in that moment.--

--"I'm fine tho" she whispered, trying to twist out of his grip, her voice filled with mirth "A bit antsy maybe, but coffee makes me feel the same way- stop shaking me you brute." Oomans must also be the only creatures to react amused when insulted. The seriousness of certain matters was apparently lost on them.--

Tau's hand surged forward into the sleeve of Max's cloak, talon wrapping around the place just above the elbow, the inner part of his forearm pressing into hers. The gauntlet activated with a'beep', beginning a quick scan. The infra-light tickled against her, but the metal of the gauntlet soothed it right away, even though the warmth of his palm sent a surge of heat up her arm. The difference in their bodies' heat still felt freaky, not that she's had many opportunities to touch him,yet. To her, it felt as though Tau was constantly running a rather atrocious fever, and to him, she could only guess, she must've felt like a cold sink.

"You're not dying," he said, earning a quick "duh" in return. He squeezed Max's arm a little to make her regain focus and claimed ominously "Your heart rate is raised, and you'll regret your decision come evening. You'll learn what many un-blooded have learned before you."

"Ax" murred the furry creature as they stepped from behind the counter, their eyes conflicted and claw reaching out for the dangling sleeve of her other arm. Tau growled at their approach, a deep and menacing sound, and Max watched in real-time as Toonz's noxiously green eyes turned sharp and hairs began to stand on end, feigning bulk to their stature that wasn't there before. They decided against their better judgment,against Tau's threats, and came to entangle two of their paws in the fabric.

"Hunter is kind, yes?" they asked in a terse tone, their gaze flitting quickly between the grand warrior and the much smaller Max.

Tau, on instinct or out of making good on a threat, made motion to pounce, another deep growl rumbling from his chest.

The blonde saw the flicker of a poised talon on his other side, wrung her arm out from Toonz, and used it to shove the creature behind her, their snout pressing into her back. She wrestled out the other arm from Tau's grasp, which he happily obliged seeing as he would need his talon to cut the little furball to ribbons. The blonde pressed her free palm up against his chest to give him pause from reaching around and snatching at Toonz.

"Chill" said Max sternly into the mask that had come to hover above her, Tau all but pressing into her as she refused to make way. Toonz, bless their heart, tried to pull Max away, but when she proved to be uncooperative, they elected to shoot Tau a tentative look from behind.

The moment felt oddly reminiscent of the time she was hired to play mediator between a wolf and their designated new mate moving into the enclosure. The risk of bloodshed was just about the same, she'd wager.

"Do not contend with me" he growled, the sound reverberating against her palm. Gooseflesh crawled from her hand to the rest of her body, and for a moment she felt as if the bones from her body had spontaneously evaporated.

"Hunter, no fight" mewled Toonz in an effort to de-escalate, but the Yautja perceived such as a command, and god forbid anyone commands him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a small ball of something lizard-like inch closer, mop and bucket in hand.So that was just something that happened here with no questions asked? Great.Wild-west-bitch-ass-lawless-sci-fi-place.

"They helped me. You're being unreasonable"

"Thekha'thedoesn't know its place"

Max felt indignation at the translation of the word; a slur for furry creatures. Good thing Toonz's translator wasn't able to translate. The blond couldn't gage them well enough to be able to claim that they wouldn't have been hisses, claws and teeth at such a remark.

Ah, there goes the space racism and Tau's superiority complex. Cool,thought Max.

She was about to voice her protests in a few colorful terms, but felt the breath be knocked out from her lungs as Tau wrapped an arm around her midriff, lifting and pressing her up into his chest, and disallowing her the use of her own arms in one turn. With the other, he grabbed Toonz by the literal scruff of their pelt.

"Oi!" shouted the Orc-Thing, Kiwan as Max had come to learn, from the booth. With his chest swelled and shoulders squared, he was almost as big and wide as Tau. Both of the patrons had tensed too, seemingly anxious at the increasingly precarious situation. Max saw them reveal the blasters holstered to their respective thighs; a silent warning. Meanwhile, aside from the janitor vibrating with such bloodthirsty (or frightened) anticipation that the mop rattled inside the bucket, people had cleared from this particular spot, most not even daring to throw a look back at the commotion. They must've been silently counting the seconds before the screams began.

Kiwan had deliberately, and loudly, embedded his knife in the cutting board. He had ridden himself of a weapon, and thus pointedly avoided making himself animminentopponent, but also made it clear that the weapon wasclose.

Toonz had frozen in place, their eyes wide and staring down towards the floor they'd like to be returned to.Good, had they started raising hell like a weasel, as was their right by the way, Tau would have probably flung them across the plaza.

Max arched her back and craned her neck to re-enter her companion's field of view once more. "You know, they actually wanted to thank you" she said, aiming for his consciousness, before taking aim at his ego "you're making a fool of yourself."

A blond lock fell from beneath her cloak as the hood tipped back by virtue of gravity.

The furry creature was dropped unceremoniously, and the relief of all parties became palpable. Max sighed as her own tension faded from her muscles. She tried to step away from Tau, to place herself between the crouched Toonz and her agitated babysitter, but his talon clamped around her arm like a vice, allowing her no further than arms-reach. Her cloak was quickly readjusted and the strand of hair was hidden underneath.

--"What an entirely unnecessary commotion" chided Ax quietly, her gaze falling towards his grasp, and he could imagine her many-facetted expression as she spoke those words. His chest tightened, and he had to steel himself to keep from squaring his shoulders in agitation. The ooman had a way to turn situations on him. He'd have to learn how to prevent her from doing it, quickly.--

--"I have no business with the whelp" he said, jutting his chin up into the direction of the fluffy one, roaring once more in pointed warning as it motioned to tangle its puny claws in the oomans cloak again. Venomous creatures ought not hover so close to strangers, it was common courtesy,written code,in many a hub. Jithirak, the name of the species this ball of fur was a member of, possessed rows of teeth, with many of them attached to venom glands that would give a grown Yautja trouble within an hour. An ooman would keel within the same breath.--

--This time thekha'theheeded the warning, and tucked its paws into its suit, slinking a few feet away. Yet itmade eyesup at the female, and he almost rethought his decision to be amenable.--

--He found himself surprised at having to stop himself from preening, from puffing out his chest in a vie for the attention of a challenged partner. He cursed himself, his potent blood, and confused instincts.Paya, this was no female he wished to pursue, and no challenger worth fighting. What a weird way to re-discover male urges.--

--He focused on the female, willed his bio-mask to filter out her disguise, and reminded himself of her form. This wasn't something that he should stir for,thiswasn'tsomething he stirred for. The urge to contend was just a remnant of primal instinct, an unfortunate and untimely confusion in his synapses, given all those unseemly events of the last few days.It wasjustmisplaced defensiveness over a trophy.--

--"Little hood, say, are you with him of your own will?" asked the brutish cook, his eyes flitting to the butcher knife. The two patrons, both tall and stick-like in stature, had yet to pull their cloaks over the blasters they had revealed in warning. They bristled outwardly and exchanged a scandalized look with one another. They must've thought it foolish to antagonize, and rightly so.And yetthey shot a glance to where he had his talon wrapped around Ax's arm. "Stars and suns above, how come so many sought to meddle?"he groaned in his mind.--

--"Make the sign for'safe', or tell them stuff's fine" demanded Ax suddenly, her attention solely devoted to the shivering wretch. "We shan't waste any more time" he replied. He turned to the trio at the booth, and spoke in accented common "we are taking our leave."--

--"No, that's rude. They helped me out" she protested, her hand attempting to swat away his hold in defiance and stubbornness. For a moment he entertained the idea of throwing the female over his shoulder, but decided against it with a disdainful click of his mandibles.--

--Though unwarranted, many species thought their people's holy practice of hunting sentient creatures dastardly. Those hunts werealwayspracticed in accordance with their Honor-Code; a fair and principled system. Thekv'var, the hunt of sentient creatures, was a divine and virtuous practice that honored the worthy prey,immortalizediteven, in a way. Though Bad-Blooded Clans were seemingly intent on making it appear not so. In the recent millennium, in part due to the restrictions on Xenomorph-hunting practicesin all its forms, many weak-spirited Clans broke from their alignment, forsook the Honor-Code altogether; hunted without restraint, humility, or mindfulness of the ecosystems. The reputation of the Yautja as a whole has been somewhat tainted. Thus, though their original standing as stoic- but brutal, merciless- yet just, ferocious- though disciplined, guardians of balanced ecosystems prevailed, those new disdainful rumors of bloodthirsty, debauched Yautja-slavers were still a nagging thing in most people's minds.--

--His tusks clicked against each other as he inhaled a deep steadying breath, he then relented his hold and instructed Ax.--

"Touch your cheeks, then clasp your hands."

She did just that, and within the same moment the three at the booth were content to let the matter rest. Toonz slowly rose to full height again, their eyes still anxious, but their body revealed no resentment or malice. This must've been a normal thing to happen.

--"Hunter, your kin me must thank" it began, paws playing with the fabric of their clothing as it instinctively inched closer, which he tolerated this time, seeing as how it didn't encroach on Ax, "your kin hunt for eaters of Jithirak pups."--

Max watched as her companions' stance grew more relaxed, but also somehow more boisterous.co*cky prick.

Out of the corner of her eye, Max saw the lizard-janitor move away with a squawk while the two patrons closed their tabs.

"If that is all" said Tau then, tilting his head into the direction he wanted the two of them to go in.

"Just a second" hushed Max, quickly stepping over to Toonz. They stared up at her quizzically, and then let out a startled, high-pitched noise as the blonde put her cloaked hands atop their head.

"I thought you wanted no harm to come to thekha'the?" commented Tau surprised, taking her machinations for hostility. Toonz, out of reflex, wrapped their paws around her forearms, ready to yank away the assumedly harmful limbs. They instead elected to drop their paws when they realized that Max meant no harm.

"Murr?" they mewled, staring curiously up at the cloaked figure. Max gently stroked the creature's unbelievably dense and soft fur, her hands then moving to feel the ears and taking their head into her hands like one would do with a cat.Scritches, she was giving themscritches.She was acting against common sense and better judgment, but she just couldn't keep her curiosity and the human urge to pet contained any longer. The meal seemed to not only have had a caffeinating effect on her, but also an emboldening one.

For a brief moment Toonz closed their eyes, a throaty purr leaving their mouth before they stepped away and shot two slow blinks at Max. "Ah, it seems some thingsareuniversal,"she thought, her heart surging with inspiration.

"See you again" they said, waving their paws at her in the common-tongue for goodbye.

A subdued rumble reverberated from Tau's chest, his talons clenching and unclenching as he seemed to mull something over. The predator decided not to press the matter, instead turning to leave.

Max quickly tips her head at Kiwan, who mirrors the gesture, and she then falls in step with her travel-buddy. His pace was just as brisk as before, making Max half-jog at his side for a few minutes as she failed to come up with a way to spearhead a conversation.

There was so much to unpack. Space racism, the western-styled-almost-shootout, no one giving a single solitary f*ck about said shootout in hindsight, Toonz not being resentful over the fact that they were almost filleted, a f*cking janitor prepped and ready to scrub innards off the floor! "Jeez, don't tell me that's just a normal Thursday for you guys," she thought exasperatedly.

"Was that a customary ooman goodbye?" asked Tau, and she catches him staring at her through the mask as he adjusts his pace to something more manageable.

"Huh?" she perked up, quickly lowering her voice "you mean what I did to Toonz?"

"Yes, the way you grabbed thekha'the'shead"

Max felt an inkling of joy spark in her chest at his curiosity, wondering if perhaps they could be of a kindred spirit with their curiosity of behaviors, though it was quickly smothered by the use of an expletive on his part.

"Must you use such slurs?" she asks instead of answering his question "Toonzhasa name."

"Merely a descriptor for their kind" answers Tau matter-of-fact-ly.

She huffed indignantly.

"Fine, jackass"

"You insult me?"

"No, I'mdescribing"

Tau hummed non-committingly, as if the point was taken (or merely brushed off). "So?" he asked again, expecting an answer to his original question.

"That wasn't really a normal way to say goodbye. That was me giving in to impulses" she answered truthfully, embarrassed heat trickling into her cheeks, which his mask was quick to pick up on.

--He watched as her heat-signature changed, how the flesh on her face warmed up again. He thought her answer over, though no matter how he twisted and turned it around in his mind, he couldn't really understand what she could have meant by it, or why it caused a surge of heat. For a moment his heart skipped a beat due to an untoward notion. Seeing as the risen temperature was only present in her cheeks, he brushed the notion off.--

--"Explain" he insisted, feeling annoyed how he yet again had to further inquire for the meaning of her words. It was a shame that the ooman couldn't speak more straightforwardly. Every single aspect of their mind and its extensions were too convoluted for his liking.--

"Well..." she began, her hands entangling with each other "you could call it an urge. We humans adore furry creatures and feel drawn to petting and touching them."

Tau's head fully turned toward Max, seemingly stumped for a moment.

"What a nonsensical adaptation" he then said with a huff, and Max pondered counter-arguments.

"It makes us feel nice" she quipped "releases dopamine, eases nerves, all that good stuff"

"If you can only achieve that by being reliant on another being, then that is a substantial weakness" he replied, and Max suddenly felt the need to adjust the glasses she didn't have. Her back straightened and factoids and research papers flooded into her mind.

"We're highly social and communal creatures. We enjoy physical contact, both platonic and sexual, and seek either recreationally. However, we can make do without social or physical contact. It's just not an optimal modus operandi, per se"

"Recreationally?" he asked, oddly peeved "you seek sex for entertainment, and not forneedor reproduction?"

"Mhm, pretty much" she answered briefly, feeling the conversation taking an unexpected turn.

"How hedonistic," concluded Tau, a slight tremor in his chest and shoulders that Max couldn't place.

There was a very cheesy and very pervy pick-up line sitting on the tip of her tongue, one that her inner troll was adamantly trying to push out, but she managed to keep it under lock and key.

"From your reaction I'll assume that your people are bound by heat-cycles and have no libido outside of it?" she pondered, feeling her gremlin deflate at the thought. A shudder went down her spine as she consciously realized that she may have been disappointed by the possibility of Tau being unable to put out. "holyjesusmotherf*ckingchrist, Max you tart"she thought, horrified by this new discovery about herself.

"Not quite" answered Tau, and Max could not but notice the way he slightly puffed out his chest, "During the heat-cycles is when our females aremostfertile and willing, but certain pheromonal and olfactory triggers, as well as physical exertion duringhuntsthat can trigger a rut as well."

"So youdodo itrecreationally. Hypocrite,"

"It would be aneedduring those times. It's different,"

"Oh? Really? It's so physiologically vital that you shan't live without fulfilling it?"

"It is out of our control, and unless stated, the need will linger. I assure you, there are few things more lethal than being distracted whilst hunting or walking hostile territory."

"Point taken" she conceded. She knew by then that his species was a restless one, one which's culture revolved around endless battles and challenges in hostile environments. Having one's senses and rationale dulled for stretches of time would most likely have a devastating effect on their survival. So, not being able to let arousal cool down on its own or consciously suffocate it, would certainly constitutehandling itaneed.

"Hah, talk about nonsensical adaptations,"she thought mirthfully.

A melodic chime rang out from Tau's gauntlet, and he instantly opened the panel to check on it.

"At last; reconnected with my people's systems," he said as they ducked into a rather derelict alley, seemingly for privacy.

"You were having issues?"

"Your dirt-planets galaxy is a sad and barren nook. Specialized gear is required to have signal reach from so far out, and as you know; my visit was entirely unplanned."

She watched as his gauntlet projected out a holographic screen, its contents wholly indecipherable to her.

Max opened her mouth, and then closed it again. The gears in her head came to a screeching halt. Was he for real?

"This entire time you were disconnected from any and all communication methods between you and yours?" she asked carefully, her voice strained.

"As I just said"

She exhaled, tried to steel herself, yet resistance was futile. He startled at her sudden laughter, halting his interaction with the device.

"So you came underprepared, underestimated thelocal fauna, and didn't even have a way to reconvene with your people? Would anybody even have known where to retrieve you from if you croaked?"

He growled at that, even his dreadlocks turning somewhat rigid as the rest of him grew taut. Torn between offense and confusion, he clicked his mandibles quite loudly, and said "You are vastly misrepresenting the events! And why would I croak?"

"How am I misrepresenting? Andcroaking itis just another term for kicking the bucket" she said, trying and failing repeatedly to contain her giggling. Oh, this all was just so absurd.

--"Your ooman language makes no sense. What connection is there between croaking and kicking a bucket?" he asked with ever-thinning patience. Her laughter was a high-pitched and melodic thing, different from the deep rumble of his people, and though he liked the sound of it back on the ship, now he couldn't stand to hear it.--

--"Those are idioms for dying, Tau" she answered, her voice higher in pitch than what he was used to hearing from her.--

"Pha!" he exclaimed with a growl, his body engaging all the rigid and muscled lines of his ferine body, "I wouldn't have perished! I was in pursuit of dangerous, disgraced hunters! I may not have predicted their in-dignity to be so vast as to flee to off-limit territory, but my preparations had been sufficient for theexecution. Mytemporaryapprehensionby your kin was due to underestimating the gravity of my sustained injuries"

"That's precisely what I said, in so many words," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Disagree"

"Agree to disagree"

--He growled again, and, turned entirely off-kilter by the interaction, had to recollect his thoughts for a moment. His claws hovered over the inputs and contacts.--

--"So?" started Ax again, her tone still high with humor, her taunt, though unspoken, evident from miles away;go on then, tell them the story.Even withher face was still concealed, he had no trouble visualizing the co*cking of her one brow and that uniquely human baring of teeth.--

--With a reluctant sigh, he opened the comms-device. A message from his brother Ji'ze-thaal asked about his whereabouts, seeing as how they all had arrived at the hunting grounds days prior, with no Da'tqah-T'au in sight. He sent a simple ping back, informing him of his continued existence and location, and letting the other deduct how long it'd take for him (and the ooman they were yet to be made aware of) to arrive.Da'tqah-T'au wasn't a male of many words, but had the circ*mstances been normal, he'd done his brothers the honor of contacting them via a holographic call.--

--He then sent a quick report of Hkash-Xche's sighting to his Clan, a routine action to keep tabs on allied hunters, and in case any of his clansmen were around looking for a partner or to exchange goods or business. He then confirmed the death of both of the Bad-Bloods in the shared Yautja databank, before sending a message to his Arbiter-Brother, informing him that he would be bringing their heads and plaques for validation and processing to their meeting spot. Formal business between Clans was the domain of Arbiters and Arbitrators, so the returning of remains to their respective clans was none ofDa'tqah-T'au's concerns. --

--By the time he was looking to close the screen, a message from Thi'han-tjer, his oldest brother, and the de facto leader of their pack, appeared. Ji'ze-thaal and Arbiter O'thuadha must've shared their interactions with the group. It read "If you cannot dignify your brothers with a punctual arrival, you could at least have shown us your face in hologram. Unless you've found yourself in troubleagainand your face isn't good to look at anymore, littlecub?"--

--He clicked his mandibles with great irritation and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to rid himself of tension, then pinged thrice at Thi'han-tijer in quick succession; a silent code for"f*ck off"and similar--

"Oof. That bad?" joked Max, earning a familiar "hush, Ax" in return. She could imagine him rolling his eyesat her.

--As he turned to continue their path toIej'i goods, his Bio-Helmet informed him that he had received three pings from Thi'han-tijer as well, and a message too. He regretted having reconnected with the network, and promptly silenced all further notifications. He couldn't wait to see his brothers again. Though the ridicule over his predicament was inevitable and would be extraordinarily vicious, he was looking forward to brawling with them. Oh, the fighting would indeed be glorious, and he was itching to expend all that building-up irritation.--

"You can reveal yourself inside," said Tau then when they were about to enter through a steampunki-ish storefront with tinted glass, "in fact, it may be Iej'i who will reveal you himself"

"Excuse me?" she asked, though received no answer and had no further chance to pry seeing as he guided the both of them inside, and she had to adjust to the dim lighting.

A long sigh, followed by the sing-sang pronunciation of Tau's full name echoed through the store. The owner of that voice, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Green lamps illuminated (if you could call it that, given how gloomy it was), the rather spacious store. It was cluttered, though not in a messy way, more in a fantasy-antiquity-shop way.

On one wall shelves filled with various well-preserved skulls, bones, and pickled meaty bits stretched from the floor to the ceiling. At the opposite wall stood shelves stacked to the brim with books, scrolls and various hardware. In between that stood tables, clothes hangers, and lower shelves littered with various bits and bobs ranging from pelts to beautifully crafted fabrics, rugs, and electronic devices.

"What do you bring me today?" asked the sing-sang voice, and for a moment Max thought she was positively tripping as shestillcould not pinpoint the origin. That was until a pair of hands dropped from the ceiling, yanking her up by her cloak, making her slip out from it and drop back down to the ground.

With the shriek she had let out, she could have easily auditioned as the main damsel for a slasher-flick.

Her knees had buckled from fright, leaving her sitting on he ground, her back leaning against Tau's shin as she looked up. His chest was heaving with the rumbling of his laugh, his arms crossed in front as he looked down on her, but her attention was entirely consumed by the thing hanging from the ceiling.

"What in Amityville f*cking horror is this?!"

"Dearest, oh my, what a pleasure"

Chapter 12: Making things as awkward as it gets (mainly because I tagged this fic as filth, there wasn't any yet, and Tau and Max need some obvious pointers)

Chapter Text

Limbs upon limbs.

The first pair of long, slender, though well-muscled, arms with equally taut hands, gingerly held onto the cloak, while the secondary and tertiary ones reached down to assess Max's frame. More arms, about six or seven pairs, though smaller and shorter, and also only 4 fingered, held its elongated, well-built, humanoid torso suspended to the ceiling. Starting where its hips should be, a long,freakishly long, insectoid abdomen began with yet more limbs, though this time of the arachnid variety, bending to allow their setae hairs to stick to the ceiling, and by extension the rest of the multi-segmented, red hulled, abdomen which twisted around the ceiling like a river. The abdomen alone must've been at least 30 feet long.

The creature above tilted and twisted its head like an owl, as it dropped the cloak and reached across to lock the door through which they came. Two large, perfectly round eyeballs stared down as their lips curled from one end of the face to the other. Their hair was tied into an intricately braided bun, and a few loose strands of long, silky-looking, red hair framed a peachy face. The four pairs of hands, each with fingers about as long as her entire hand, hovered around her body, tracing the shape of her limbs and joints with a seemingly sensitive and advanced somatosensory system.

It looked like the sacrilegious bastard of a centipede-centaur and the Momo-paralysis demon.

"Oh, what marvel Da'tqah-T'au brought me today. And you're a live one too" they mused, their voice melodic, lilted, and pleasant, and thus quite jarring compared to their appearance.

They brought the four pair of hands in front of Max, and offered them with the palms facing upwards. It was as straightforward a gesture as any, but Max was still in the middle of short-circuiting, so when she didn't put her hands into theirs, their head tilted to the side even more, the smile somewhat waning.

"Ah, permit me, littleearthling"they said, "I assure you that I will not be dropping you anymore"

A slight nudge from Tau's knee persuaded Max's body to move, and she apprehensively allowed thethingto pull her up to her feet.

"My my, where are my manners?" they hummed then, and the blonde watched as the whole of their torso and part of the abdomen dropped from the ceiling, twisting into an upright position whilst the rest still clung to the ceiling. They lowered themselves even further until their head achieved eye-level with Max, and it was then that she had to fight tooth and nail to not turn and book it.

Animals, aliens, space-orcs, bloodthirsty sci-fi janitors,the works, she can handle any day. A more creature demon hybrid from Satan's reject pile was however not something she could comprehend easily.

"I am Iej'i" they said, their black eyes getting even wider as they observed Max up-close, an equally black serpentine tongue darting briefly past their lips as they seemingly tasted the air.

Max felt herself backing into Tau, momentarily regaining comfort at his familiar heat and presence. Such relief was short-lived when he proceeded to nudge her forward again, clearly amused by her reactions.

Iej'i's eyes then seemingly relaxed, and with that those unsettling eyes did too, taking on an almond-shape as the lids resumed their normal position. And with that, the face became rather pretty-looking, black lips taking on a coquettish turn and long rounded, elf-like ears drooping with eased excitement. A skin-tight, purple, halterneck, crop-top, covered their chest, with their midriff and abdomen devoid of clothing save for colorful belts and shawls. All of their humanoid arms wore various bracelets, rings, and vambraces.

"Do you have a gender?" she then managed to squeeze out, instantly face-palming internally. Of all the things to ask about its unique anatomy and being, and that was what she went with?

"I am female" they started after chuckling, obviously not perturbed in the slightest at such questioning, "but after I found my bond, I prefer to go by male pronouns. My bond is quite the influentialthing."

He, Iej'i, pointed to the middle section of their abdomen, where on the underside a nub of about 2 feet protruded from the supple chitin. On closer inspection, the nub, which had seemingly fused into the segment of Iej'i's abdomen, had segments of its own, as well as arms that had at one point held onto the body it merged with.

It seemed that Iej'i had fused with a male of their species like angler-fish do on earth. A fascinating prospect given that the eternal sperm-donor male had apparently fused not only body, but infused part of his personality into his partner. Though, to which degree would be hard to tell, if at all possible. Max wondered if that process created a new person, or two minds sharing a body. From his use of pronouns when referring to himself, Max could deduce that he saw himself as singular. The fact that he had referred to the fused nub as athing, and didn't even deem it worthy of having its name revealed, also didn't bode well for the autonomy and existence of whoever that nub once was. Matriarchal structures would be easy to infer from such.

Her inner goblin wondered if the nub-male ever got to taste post-nut clarity and regret his decision before it got assimilated into Iej'i. Her more sane part meanwhile was wondering how they reproduced and merged in general.

"Now little human, what is your name?"

"Oh, I'm Maxine, a-and I refer to myself as female too" she said with embarrassment, wondering if she had all her bases covered or if Iej'i would want to know if she was coupled similarly to him.

"Now" Iej'i began after folding his hands "are you owned and to be traded, or...?"

His gaze, somewhat hopeful and ecstatic, drifted toward Tau, who huffed briefly and shook his head. The beads in his tresses clinked gently against his chest armor and shoulder pads as he did so.

"That's alright too. So what brings you to me then?" he asked , his gaze drifting back to Max, and though somewhat deflated, he still seemed curious and eager to interact with her.

Tau removed his bio-mask and began to speak the first syllable of his answer, but the centaur-centipede was quicker.

"Shush!" Iej'i said, bringing one of her hands up into a halting sign "do not answer for the female".Ah, matriarchal indeed.

Behind her, Tau rolled his eyes. The silence stretched, and she could feel both their gazes boring into her, one with the intensity of curiosity and the other with silent encouragement.

"I uh..? Tau wanted to shop around for gear"

"I need the ooman in gear that makes sure she doesn't crumple at the first whiff of danger, and manuals oncommon. Also I'm looking for a specific self-learning algorithm. Preferably one that has been trained on ooman language" he butted in.

"What an honor! To be able to outfit a first-time traveler!"the enthusiasm in his voice was contagious despite his unsettling appearance.

Iej'i's eyes gleamed with excitement as he raised his numerous hands in a jubilant gesture. The cacophony of clinking bracelets and rings sounded almost like a celebration as he surveyed Max from head to toe.

Iej'i's hands, which seemed to float effortlessly in the air, scooped her up quicker than she could register,and with a quick motion, Max found herself at the other end of the store, standing atop a pedestal surrounded with mirrors and racks upon racks of gear each different and meant to accommodate people of many shapes, sizes and preferences.

Tau cleared the room in a few steps and came to lean against one of the sturdy-looking shelves, his expression clearly dissatisfied at having been left behind and his entertainment cut short.

"Oh, right, you're here too" he said, almost off-handedly whilst his many hands plucked and sorted through the many attire, his attention shifting between the gear and some device he had booted up.

"Is that a way to treat your best ally? Someone who brings you illustrious hides and biological components?"

"Hah Tau, you must excuse me, even a grand Yautja-Warrior and his needs pale in the presence of a human. So rare and illicit they are,"his voice melodic and soothing, and wholly at ease, a stark contrast to the previous interactions between Tau and the aliens at the booth. The two of them must've known each other for a long time.

On an unrelated note, given how interested, almost enviously, Tau glanced at the large sections in Iej'i's body, Max wondered if theyhad gotten it onat one point. Her companion seemed oddly hung up on size after all, lamenting her twig-like stature and scoffing at small creatures in general. Perhaps another outlet of his blatant superiority complex.

"Do humans breathe through their skins?" asked Iej'i suddenly, after closing the holscreen he was looking at. His expression was somewhat embarrassed, as though he felt uneasy about not knowing things.

"Pah!" intercepted Tau teasingly "my database concludes that ooman's respiratory systems are wholly internal"

Max rolled her eyes, wondering just what kind of database his people had created over the years.

"Human skin does absorb oxygen to some degree as it is beneficial for the reproduction of cells, but our main respiration happens through our lungs. Our skin is also mildly absorbent to minerals, chemicals, external hormones, and the likes. We also absorb lipids better than water."

"Hmm, that is handy. Creatures with solely cutaneous respiration are hard to outfit" he mused "but you will still need to adopt a prophylactic regime"

A slight alarm woke in her chest, and Tau tilted his head in expectation for an explanation.

"Many environments, both naturally occurring or industrially, have toxins aplenty. Over the long term, they'll take their toll if you are to absorb even a marginal amount so long as it happens continuously"

Max looked quizzically over to Tau, who turned his head with a huff, his thoughts and expression unreadable to her.

"I'm not surprised Da'tqah-T'au has not made such preparations for you yet. He and his people are notoriously ignorant to the plights and needs of more fragile species" continued Iej'i as he hovered next to Tau's shelf, playfully nudging the Yautja, and to Max's surprise; actually knocking him aside a good bit. He then used his other hands to retrieve a multitude of flasks.

"A mineral and medicine solution designed for creatures with sensitive and absorbent skins should dull your skins intake. You humans are iron-based and your people adaptable enough, so I think there should be no adverse effects"

Iej'i held the open flasks to her face, and she was immediately taken aback by the pungent smell of brine-pool.

The following moments included Iej'i sliding the pathetic excuse of a teal lab shirt off of her shoulders, Max shrieking like a cat, Iej'i rubbing the saltine-and-whatever-else solution into her skin, and Tau not hiding his amusem*nt in the slightest.

"Ah, relax yourself. Your mamaries are not much to look at" said Iej'i, words that were meant to calm her, yet did nothing but agitate her further at yet another jab at her small tit*. She didn't think there was anything more embarrassing than whatever was happening at that moment, but she'd come to eat her words within the next 30 minutes.

Max could feel her cheeks burning as Iej'i's hands worked the briny solution into her skin. The sensation was cold and oddly invigorating, and despite her embarrassment, she had to admit it felt strangely refreshing. Iej'i's touch was surprisingly gentle, the multitude of fingers moving with practiced ease.

"Do you frequently treat visitors this personally?" Max managed to ask, trying to distract herself from the situation, trying to fill her mind with images of Toonz's plush paws as opposed to frames from poorly scripted p*rn.

Iej'i's smile widened, the corners of his lips curling even further. "Only those as fascinating as you, little human. Usually I let my clients do this themselves, but you are a rare treat in these parts. Many of us have never seen your kind in person. Your skin changes colors depending on your mood. I didn't know that"

"Great," Max muttered, feeling like a specimen on display ash she rubbed her increasingly reddening cheeks.

"Do not worry," Iej'i continued, his voice soothing. "You are among friends here. Da'tqah-T'au seldom travels in company. You must be very special for him to bring you along."

Max glanced over at Tau, who was now examining some message on his gauntlet. His expression was inscrutable, but she could sense his attention on her, even if he pretended otherwise.

"Would you tell me where you found this golden-maned human?" asked Iej'i, earning a swift "no" in response.

"Why do you need to outfit her so thoroughly, Da'tqah-T'au?" his tone light but curious. "Planning on taking her into particularly dangerous territory?"

Tau looked over, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Anywhere is dangerous for an ooman. She's under my protection. I can't afford any mistakes."

Something in Max's stomach flipped at the blatant declaration. Up until that point he'd been stand-offish about her being at his side, and he was yet to give a proper label to whatever their connection was.

"Ah, ever the cautious warrior," Iej'i replied, his big eyes twinkling with amusem*nt. "But I see your point. Humans truly are as fragile as the rumors suggest" he mused, and as if to prove this point to himself, he dragged one of his nails across the skin on her stomach, leaving behind an angry red line, "they need all the help they can get."

Max frowned, a spark of defiance igniting within her. "We're not that fragile," she protested, "we can be pretty tough when we need to be."

Iej'i chuckled, "I have no doubt of that. Your continued existence at the side of a Yautja is proof enough. But physical resilience is another matter. Here, let me finish this up."

The centipede-centaur tugged at the rim of her pants, and in an instant Max came to wrap her hands around his wrists, stopping him. "I- I got the message, thank you! I'll be finishing this up back on ship" she said, her voice high from anxious pitch.

"Suit yourself" relented Iej'i, but not without sparing her midriff another longing glance "But if you would permit, I would love to see your reproductive organs"

Max balked, not even registering the annoyed "lay off, oomans are prude," coming from Tau.

"Wha-? Why?"

"Ah, you see, dear one, encountering a human is quite a rare occasion, so it may be my only chance to find out out if our species are anatomically compatible. You are mammalian, right?"

Max opened and closed her mouth as her brain continued to lag behind. Somewhere behind her Tau smacked against one of the segments of Iej'i's abdomen, enough to voice his annoyance, not enough to break the rules of hospitality.

"What exactly are you asking here?" she voiced slowly as she crossed her arms instinctively in front of her chest. "To me it almost sounds like flirting" added that nasty-intrusive-thoughts-goblin of hers.

"Well" grinned Iej'i "bedding a human would be quite the tale to tell amongst space-farers. But that would only be part of my inquiry"

Every sane and courteous part of Max was howling in her to shoot this proposition down and not ask any more questions, but her curiosity about Iej'i's anatomy and thought process was winning out against rationale.

"What's the other part?"

The shop-owner adjusted his body, and Max watched as a jet-black, slickened tube emerge from a slit in the second segment above the nub-male. The hole at the tip of the fleshy tube looked stretchable and leaked a red-ish goo.

Max's cheek turned blood red in an instant, her throat tying into a knot as she turned and mouthed "what the f*ck" back at Tau, who had brought one of his talons to his brow ridges, rubbing them as he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

"Would you be willing to carry a child for me?"

"Iej'i, the ooman will absolutely not be carrying your spawn" groaned Tau, pointedly staring at the human in question, and avoiding looking at the vulgar organ hanging above.

"Shush. Do not answer for the female" repeated Iej'i, though this time stricter in tone, making Tau actually relent his protests. Max figured that she wouldn't want to wager upsetting the exhibitionist at this point either. There was technically no harm no foul happening either way, just a bit of casual nakedness and unveiled sex offers.

"I-" stuttered Max "I think you're skipping a few steps here. And a few explanations!"

"Ah, I see. I should not have skipped the preamble" claims Iej'i, as if that's what was the faux-pas about the whole situation. "My people are technically classified as parasites since we can choose not to gestate our own eggs, and instead insert them into similarly built environments. Our people back in the ancient days came to make use of our planet's resident mammals; sizeable non-sentient cattle farmed for meat and incubation. These days we refrain from using unwilling participants, or creatures unable to consent, so many of my sisters gestate themselves. Traditional insertion is just a novel and practical thing, saving me the metabolic cost, and earning bragging rights amongst peers the rarer the more fruitful the incubator. I pay handsomely for my carriers."

"What a complicated, but versatile, reproductive process",was all Max could take away from that. Her cheeks still burned, and the heat continued to travel up her ears and down her collarbone. Never mind the proposition, what would come after the egg would be ready to hatch? Would it rip the host apart? was the host expected to hand back the newborn? Or would the babe slither into the wilderness and rejoin society once it came of age?

"And then?" asked Max, seemingly exciting the shop owner as the tube twitched.

"Do not tell me you entertain such ideas!" said Tau with shock and exasperation.

"Shush. I'm just curious!"

With one arm she covered her chest (because she had decency), and with the other she pointed at the nub, then at the segment above it. "So your bond provides the sperm, and up here it fertilizes your eggs." Iej'i nodded, and she then pointed at the segment with the slit and the exposed tubal pseudo-penis. "And you can either gestate yourself and birth them, or evacuate and insert them into a, presumably, willing incubator?"

"Correct" purred Iej'i, "you humans catch on quickly"

"And then? How does the pseudo-pregnancy go? What happens with the hatchling?"

Max felt the ghost of a hand at her nape, and another travel down her spine. She wasn't seriously considering anything, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't feeling off-kilter due to the blatant smell ofsexin the room. There was something obscenely illicit about the whole thing (not a xenophile my ass), and something that also triggered her monkey-brains fight or flight response.

"I can fertilize myself at a moment's notice. The egg will develop a soft membrane within minutes, which will make insertion easy. During insertion a substance is released which induces pregnancy in the insertee as the ova are deposited in the womb, so that it may nourish. The eggs mature within a tenday, and emit hormones that induce labor when they are to be released. You then give the eggs to me, and I send it to my home planet into a larva-kindergarten as soon as they hatch and the strongest sibling has eaten all the others. "

--Iej'is raging pheromones had always caused his knees to buckle, on the few occasions he was unlucky enough to encounter him after he had copulated, both fruitfully and un-fruitfully. He was aware of this species' practices, he was just lucky enough to not have heard it out loud since the he-female was only interested in other females. However, with Ax's adrenaline mixing into the perfume, he felt like he had gotten punched right into his intestines. He had to be mindful to not unsheath himself at this rate, and his righteous parasite-averse codex was doing the heavy lifting of keeping his thoughts straight. Iej'i was a gentle soul, so there was no risk of anything going awry, so long the ditz didn't manage to somehow agree to the proposition.--

--A curious part of him was interested in seeing the two of them copulate (for no other reason than the scientific observation of a parasitic implantation and gestation given his people's study of Xenomorphs,of course. Absolutely). Another part, the confused one he'd discovered earlier, reared its head with possessiveness of his trophy, and another, the one that was steeled and wise, listed all the reasonable reasons for not allowing this thing to happen under any circ*mstances.--

"That is quite the fascinating process! But alas, we're kind of on a tight schedule-"

"Oh well, I figured I couldn't ask of you to stick around for so long. Yautja are notoriously hard to tether to one place. But I'll not relinquish the first part of the offer. You can still f*ck me if you'd like."

"Iej'i, for the love of Paya-"

Max's mind raced, trying to process the jumble of emotions and information thrown at her by Iej'i's straightforward propositions. Her cheeks still burned, but now she was faced with the challenge of keeping her composure amidst the swirling co*cktail of embarrassment, curiosity, and a hint of something she couldn't quite place.

"Uh, I appreciate the... offer, but I think it's best if we stick to the task at hand," she stammered, casting a quick glance at Tau for support. He met her gaze with a nod of approval, though his eyes carried a hint of relief.

About an hour later, the two intrepid, and unlikely partners left the shop, withalmosteverything they were looking for, a heavy awkwardness hanging between them, and not being able to look at one another.

Tau cleared his throat, his body somewhat more tense than usual. His expression was hidden beneath his bio-mask, and he still refused to gaze at the blonde. "You did well to refuse," he said as he turned to head toward the docking bay "I wasn't so sure you would. I would have wagered you'd be relieved to find a remedy for your lacking physiology, nevermind your people's need for physical contact."

"Tau you absolute bastard"

Max hurried along the bustling corridors of the space station. The diverse array of creatures passing by was both mesmerizing and overwhelming, but she was too preoccupied with her recent encounter to fully appreciate the sights. Tau’s remark stung more than it should have, and she struggled to keep up with his brisk pace.

“You think I would jump ahead and f*ck to my heart's content? And my tit* are fine, thanks!” she shot back, her voice laced with irritation.

Tau motioned to glance over his shoulder, but halted, continuing to look straight ahead. “You seemed quite fascinated. Too fascinated for comfort.”

Max huffed, rolling her eyes. “It was curiosity, Tau. I’m not about to… you know, with a creature I just met, no matter how interesting their biology is.”

"So the prerequisite is toknowa creature with interesting biology more thoroughly?"

"Can we go back to not talking filth?"