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  • Katerina Winters

Untitled Predator Fic - Chapter 2


Izara took in the scene quickly. The yautja was completely exposed at the waist. Along his stomach, genitalia, and upper thighs he was covered in a sheen of brown spray. Most likely a modified betadine scrub solution for prepping the surgery area. And from the position of the hovering plasma torch-saw above the creature, said surgery area was no doubt the creature's genitalia.


"Dr. Andrew," Izara began firmly taking a decisive step forward until she was on the other side of the operating table. "I cannot let you continue," she said evenly.


Dr. Andrew's cold inhuman gaze snapped up from the datapad in his hand and pinned her with an icy stare. Perfect in every way, Dr. Andrew looked like something out of fashion ezine. No, more like something ordered out of a catalog, she inwardly amended with a laugh. Every strand of his dark pelt of hair was perfectly combed back accentuating the strong lines of his perfectly structured face. It was just a façade. No matter how many millions of credits were spent on creating the man in front of her it would never hide the cold unfeeling emptiness in the synthetic's ice-blue eyes.


"You are not to be in here," his even voice was void of any feeling.


Between them, the creature's angry roars settled to an ever-constant growl that reminded her of the heavy engines on the hulking forklift vehicles kept in deep storage. Sometimes on her breaks, Izara liked to go down there and watch the automated goliaths silently follow their programmed instructions as they carefully moved the trapped detainees encased in a forever sleep in their storage capsules. It was an oddly chilling yet mesmerizing procession to watch. Thousands of lives forever trapped in endless sleep and unknowingly shuffled about like a bad game of Tetris in a warehouse in the middle of nowheresville space.


She narrowed her eyes at the doctor. "Yes, I'm aware you wanted that, but as you're aware I am to process all the incoming non-human detainees after your last infrac-"


The rest of the words never made it out of her mouth.


Moving faster than any human ever could, Dr. Andrew rounded the table and had his hand wrapped around the column of her throat. With two steps he had her back against the far wall. The cold metal of the wall bit into her shoulder blades. Leaning in close, the doctor stopped his face only centimeters away from hers. This close, Izara could almost appreciate the stark differences in their bodies. Like for the pesky fact that she could barely breathe and he wasn't breathing at all. Stupid synthetics. Whose bright idea was it to make a superhuman, never eating, never sleeping, monster man? Because that totally sounded like a good idea.


"Infraction?" Andrew repeated as one perfect brow raised in question. "Let's talk about yours shall we, defect? Starting with your insubordination of a ranking officer of this ship. An interruption of a private processing of a detainee. Or-"


Izara's eyes flicked to the monster's on the table and she could see him thrashing against his diaminium bonds. Looking back to the doctor, she tried returning his frosty glare but feared she wasn't successful judging by his slowly forming smirk.


"You mean a mutilation of a detainee," she managed to get out.


A flicker of anger flashed through the synthetic's eyes as he computed her insubordination. His hand around her throat squeezed her harder, lifting her higher off the floor. Pain seared all over her neck even as her vision went dark at the edges.


"You cannot kill me," she wheezed with the last of her air. It was more of a hope and a prayer rather than the determined words she meant them to be.


The doctor scowled for a moment before smiling coldly. "Your favor with the commander will run out soon and once that happens you will be the one on my table."


Izara really wanted to reply with a "Why? I have no dick and balls for you to cut off," but she refrained. She really couldn't afford to get murdered right now.


With one last icy look of contempt, Dr. Andrew let her go and stepped back. Izara tried not to give him the satisfaction of him seeing her gasp for air, but it was useless. Nearly doubling over from the pain, she watched through teary eyes as he grabbed his forgotten datapad and walked cooly out the lab door.


After a few minutes of sufficient wheezing and coughing, Izara took an unsteady step forward and staggered her way over to the table. Laying there the giant crab-faced creature seethed in rage. The loud growls had died down to a constant hum which was now interwoven with an eerie clicking sound.


She rubbed at her throat and glanced at the still lit plasma torch. "Computer turn off the torch one."


A soft confirming ding rang out in the cavernous medical room followed by the extinguishing sound of the torch.


"Computer please lock the doors," she requested. "Not that that will do any good," she mumbled as she walked around the table to stand on the other side. "Damn near everyone on this ship has more rank than me, so that lock is basically decoration."


Clearing her sore throat one last time, Izara finally looked down at the creature's face. Red eyes blazed back up at her and she froze. If looks could kill wasn't quite a sufficient enough phrase for the look he was giving her now. Like two pieces of red hot magma, the big creature's tiny eyes stared at her from deep inside the shadow of his brow bone. As if evolved to not only feel their famed aggression, the creature's brow ridge naturally came down low setting his odd crab-like face in a permanent scowl.


Izara wanted to stare at him further to examine his odd mandible face she had only ever before read about, but she knew she needed to get to work for one, and secondly it was probably getting on his nerves. Especially considering his state of undress. She glanced down at his exposed waist before quickly looking away.


"Ok, mister yautja," she announced in a cheery voice. "I will be taking care of you from now on. First things first, my name is Izara. No surname or middle name oddly enough just Izara. Like you, I found myself here on Black Mountain years ago without a lot of information from my past and no real options for going anywhere else. And while I won't share your fate in a containment capsule you can take comfort that company in misery offers and knowing you have pretty much met another prisoner."


Turning around she washed her hands at the sink station behind her before turning back around and leaning over the creature. His red eyes were still locked on her with a promise of death. She quickly stepped back and injected even more positivity into her tone.


"First, I am going to check your--yo-your," she cleared her throat and pointed. "Your nether region," she stumbled over the words with a mortifying blush, "for any damages. From what I read in our database about your kind…well if you can even call it an article," she scoffed interrupting her train of thought as she stuck her hands in the gloving machine.


Waving over her hand, the machine wrapped the latex gloves around her fingers efficiently with a snap.


"I mean it was three paragraphs, not much at all to go by. But I did see," she rattled on nervously as she leaned over the creature's body and quickly glanced around his genitalia to make sure he hadn't been cut. "That you guys bleed a bright green so it should be super easy to know if you've been cut." Stepping back, Izara reached underneath the counter and pulled out a strip of exam-table cloth. Laying it over his waist she breathed easier and shot him a smile.


The yautja only glared back, apparently not at all relieved for the modicum of decency.


He was probably still offended about it all, she reasoned. Hell, she would be too if she was captured by some unknown bounty hunter and taken to be imprisoned to then get their dick almost cut off.


"Truthfully, Commander Zeno really needs to do something about that damn synth," she muttered as she walked over and reached for the piece of armor that was laying haphazardly on a sterile metal tray across the room.


Holding up the heavy piece of armor, Izara noted the odd tribal design of the metal and leather. Turning it around in her hand she could see where the piece had been snipped at a leather section. "That bastard," she sighed, looking at the obvious buckles a few inches away from the cut. "Why destroy it if he could have just taken it off the right way?" she murmured to herself.


Setting the ruined skirt armor down, she began to walk away when she caught a glimpse of a smaller piece of black leather still sitting on the tray. Picking it up she stared at it quizzically and turned back to the yautja.


"What's this?" she asked.


And as expected the big creature said nothing in return, just continued to glare. That was fine because she could talk enough for both of them.


"You know, our file on your kind didn't say if you guys could talk or not. Can you?" she asked without giving him time to reply. "Because you must, right? I mean you're supposedly very advanced so you gotta communicate somehow. And you don't look like you would speak telepathically, because I've noticed with all the telepathic creatures they bring in here that their eyes are either really fucking big or they have no eyes at all." Izara shuddered as she remembered the last one she processed for containment. "And thank the stars you're not a Clorbillrax. Ugh, for some reason those things are covered in a viscous like slime that stinks. I nearly puked twice and I know it hurt the poor thing's feelings. I could just tell."


Pressing the button for the hover stool, she leaned back onto its padded surface when she felt its humming presence behind her. "Computer bring up the yautja file," she called out. "Since you won't tell me I will just…" her words faded as the holographic feed of information she requested suddenly hovered above the table. She didn't even have to scroll through the information was so little. With only info on a male yautja, it detailed the armor kit, clothing, weapons, and biology of one the company must have encountered in the past. In seconds, she pinpointed what she was looking for.


"Ah ha," she said excitedly, brandishing the small black leather material in the air. "A loincloth. How perfect. That makes total sense. All that intricately carved metal and thick ass leather will probably chafe in the worst way."


Izara reached for the paper. "Ok, let me just-"


Immediately he jerked against his restraints and she was rewarded with a roar so deafening she felt her insides shake. Deep and somehow with a bit of a shrieking undertone to the sound, it felt like she was hit in the chest by a bolt of lightning.


Blinking a few times, Izara shook herself out of the frozen trance.


"Umm…it's ok," she tried in a soothing tone. Removing her hand back from the paper she gave him an encouraging smile. "Computer," she called out, "please activate the patient overhead screen and translate my words to yautjan." She wasn't sure why she didn't think of it before. He probably hadn't understood a word she said this whole time.


Above him, a holographic screen came on and odd red lettering that just looked like a jumble of dashes came up onto the screen.


Continuing to smile at him, she sat his loincloth on the small table next to her. "You know the more I think about it you probably don’t want it on being covered in that smelly betadine spray. How about we get you all clean first and then get you all suited again?" she asked. "Of course, the gauntlets will stay off, and the greaves," she said pointing to his feet that were housed in matching armor with spiked toes covering his beastly feet. "Those will have to come off before you go into the capsule of course, but you can pretty much keep your skirt armor and these pretty upper arm cuffs." She indicated to the smoky silver strips of metal that circled each of his biceps.


For a moment Izara just stared down at his arm. His bicep was huge. Frowning she stepped back and examined the full outline of his form. Laying on the table with his arms bound to his sides, the huge creature seemed at first glance to be laying normally but looking closer she realized that both arms were flexed very tight. Rushing to the other side her eyes widened at the sight of the thin line of glowing green liquid forming just underneath his right cuff.


"Computer, give me the integrity report of the examination table." She could hardly believe what she was seeing.


The empty female voice of the computer spoke. "Examination table is at ninety-five percent The port side cuff is dropping by one percent approximately every five minutes."


Holy space nuggets. Carefully rounding the other side, she looked down at the creature and gave him an awed look. "Wow. I mean that is damn impressive. That's a diaminium cuff you're bending right now."


Which was amazing considering the yautja that was supposedly examined in the company's records stated that the average male yautja weigh around five hundred pounds. This one only weighed four hundred and thirty without all its armor. So either it was severely malnourished which she doubted by its lean physique or maybe this one was rather young.


"Computer raise the bed to a one hundred and ten-degree angle and reinforce the detainee's hands and feet with a second cuff."


This earned her another furious jolting roar as his table moved beneath him.


Typing in a command on her wrist unit, Izara stepped back. Both she and the creature watched as a large half-dome unit started to lower from the ceiling.


"Ok, now for the fun part." That was a lie, of course.


It didn't matter who or what came across her examination table each and every living thing absolutely hated the bathing unit and this yautja was no exception. Izara winced at the deathly stare of outrage he gave her as the domed unit settled over the table covering him from neck to foot. It didn't matter that she set the cleansing solution to a gentle warm and selected the quickest most non-invasive spray setting she could, the yautja like everyone else was beyond indignant. Though admittedly, his was worse. With most humans and humanoid beings, they usually came to her table unconscious while most beasts and creatures came to her fully awake. Normally the monsters no matter how sentient were just a ball of frenzied rage at the treatment, but this one was a first. His angered roars died away to near silence as the machine worked over him. With only his head visible he watched her over the cleaning unit. Eerie deadly silence. Despite his lack of speaking Izara felt his silent death stare roaring his absolute want to kill her.


Done with the bath and back in the flat position with new paper covering him the yautja's red glowing eyes stared evilly up at the ceiling as she stood behind him and worked a cloth carefully through his spines. She hadn't wanted to wash his face with the bathing unit, though that was certainly a setting. If he thought he was angry now, just try getting your whole body mercilessly sprayed while being strapped down. It was something she had first-hand experience with and still had nightmares about.


With a warm wet towel, Izara returned her thoughts back to the present and picked up each of the yautja's dread-like spines and wiped them down from root to tip, careful of the metal beads clamped to each one. The room was quiet, uncomfortably so. She despised the quiet. So she did what she did best and began to talk.


"As I was saying earlier, the commander has to do something with Dr. Andrews. That synth is a menace. He's currently on an infraction as it is because the commander found out about his little secret of mutilating some of the detainees." Leaning forward she shared a conspiratorial look with the yautja. "It was me," she whispered. "I was the one who found out and told," she smiled smugly. "And I don’t feel bad either. That damn synth has a very disturbing obsession with male genitalia." Without taking a breath she went into detail on her reasonings. "I think it's because he originally didn’t have one given to him. Most synths don't," she added moving her chair to the side of his face now done with his spines.


Reaching over his face she grabbed her second towel and began wiping the yautja's large head. Bulbous and slanting, the creature had a very odd shaped cranium. At the top, it formed an almost ridge-like crown of spikes that reminded her of dinosaurs of an ancient Terran planet. The crown likes spikes gave him a regal look that seemed rather fitting for his proud demeanor.


"But I heard that he got himself one through a few black market surgeries," she went on to explain, "and has been putting it to use with some of the women staff on the ship. Honestly, I don’t even think he has the capabilities to enjoy sex," she confessed leaning forward again as her gloved hands gently cupped the underside of his jaw. Beneath her fingers, she could feel the heavy vibrations of the clicking sound threading through his ever-constant growl and she wondered if he would snap at her from this position. Her face was close to his and she had seen the deadly mobility of his tusked mandibles. Izara smiled brightly, she would just have to make sure to try and dodge out of the way. "I think he just likes the domination it gives him or the semblance of being human. Who knows really."


Black beady pupils set in small red orbs glared at her from the darkness of his eyes sockets as she continued to carefully wipe at the concaving curve of each mandible and down the thick column of his neck. The creature's skin was quite amazing. All except his spines which were dense and rubbery, his body was covered in a textured scaled hide that reminded her of a giant snapmaw. Thicker feeling than other lizard like beasts she processed and certainly patterned differently. His stomach, palms, face, and the tops of his thighs were a light fleshy taupe color sprinkled with dark green spots here and there while the rest of him was a dark almost muddy green that accentuated the natural ridge-like lines in his scaled hide. All tightly stretched over his muscled frame. He was truly a beast.


"There all done," she finally announced. Stepping back she looked at the surly creature and back to his torn armor on the table. "Let's see if I can fix this thing, so you don’t have to be half-naked in your capsule."


The hovering stool followed her as she turned to the workbench. Sitting down she activated the light and examined the skirt armor. It was very warrior-like that was for sure. The mix of dark bronze leather and smoky silver metal plating was unlike anything she had seen before. Turning the armor over to view the back, she pulled down one of the workbench's metal arms above her head and guided it to the leather. Having to deal with all types of creatures she was more than sure if she used one of the heaviest gauge threading she could stitch the leather back up and maybe even use the cutting torch as a makeshift soldering iron on the metal bits. Happy with her plan of action, Izara pulled out the necessary tools as her enemy silence began to surround her.


That wouldn’t do.


Instead, she summoned her best weapon again--talking.


"Since I doubt anyone has explained it to you, let me be the first to describe the suspended animation process you will be put in once you go inside the capsule." She could have sworn she heard a groaning sound behind her but ignored it with a smile as she continued her unsolicited in-depth explanation.

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