Author's Note: Jet lag has me on odd hours. To combat jet lag (when I keep myself awake to catch up with the time), I've been typing up things on iPad Notes which means no grammar or spellcheck. I've re-read this chapter 10 times, but the lack of sleep has me seeing double. I get back to the States in two weeks. When I return, I'm going to do a major editing session of the chapters I post while abroad. I do hope everyone enjoys these uplates. You all are so amazing and dedicated to this story which is just FANTASTIC.

The dynamic between Gur'rung and Camilla is getting interesting.

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It had been a mistake to let the female Ooman venture out with them.

He realized that now, but there was no turning back without losing precious time.

Every other moment, Gur'rung was reaching out to steady the young woman. In all honesty, she wasn't doing terribly. The terrain was easily traversed by the Yautja due to their height and the enhanced night vision provided by their hunting masks. The girk was tall, though, she just couldn't see as well in the dark as they could.

If only she hadn't made an oath of loyalty.

Gur'rung reasoned that the woman probably didn't know what she had said. To her, they were probably just words. To him, they were a declaration, a promise. To not allow her the opportunity to fulfill her vow would be shameful.

"–A'chide is my master; I will fight for him and die for him if I have to."

He had pledged a similar oath to the clan when he had been blooded. A promise to fulfill the duties and uphold the privileges bestowed upon a warrior. A warrior would fight for the clan and die for the clan. She had vowed to do the same for his commander.

Despite how much he hated to admit it, Camilla intrigued him far more than anything had ever intrigued him before.

Gur'rung should loath her; grow angered at her very appearance. Nonetheless, he could not muster the energy to do so. She had survived where others had perished. It was admirable that she had lasted so long among such a contemptuous species like the Yautja. Yes, Camilla vexed him and prodded his nerves constantly with her Ooman manners, but he always found himself drawn in for more. A'chide had noticed this and teased him about it before they had departed the clan ship.

Everything Camilla did was foreign to his understanding.

Just moments before their departure she had bid her farewells to the Ooman medic with the shockingly bright hair. The two had partaken in that bizarre Ooman ritual of embracing. The way they pressed their bodies together was far too intimate for public observance. The act reminded him of the act of mating. Oomans, by decree, were forbidden from reproducing on clan territory. Not that they given the opportunity to interact in private for an extended period. Gur'rung made sure of that.

What had enthralled the Yautja even more was the quick pressing of the Oomans' mouths together. He had sensed the female's surprise at the gesture; her heartbeat had elevated for a brief moment. Whatever had happened between the two had left Camilla shaken, and Gur'rung had found himself angered by the male's audacity. The Ooman male was just a medic's assistant, no better than a slave. Camilla was a living trophy, a symbol of pride for A'chide. The male's actions were not only an insult to Camilla, but more importantly an insult to A'chide.

When questioned about the moment, the female had remained notably mum, "It was nothing … a simple gesture done on Earth to show affection."

If it had been a simple gesture, why had the Ooman appeared so shocked? Gur'rung had wished to press her on the matter, but found that his prodding was futile.

Besides, there were more important matters to attend to like destroying the Bad Bloods and rescuing A'chide.

They were nearing the base of the mountainous ridges that separated the two spheres of the planet. It was on the other side of the pass where they had encountered the group of Bad Bloods. There were ten of them in all, as they had suspected. All of them were infamous throughout the clan. Once, long ago, Gru'rung had called these Yautja brothers; not anymore. The band was led by a Yautja who went by H'dlak. Gur'rung snorted at the audacity of H'dlak. Most renegades flittered about on the edges of the known universe; out of the eyes of society. Clan code decreed that all Bad Bloods were to be executed immediately if found. To set up camp on a known chiva planet was spitting in the faces of the Council.

The initial attack had come during a training exercise. Several of the unblooded had cornered a group of young kiande amedha and were being instructed on how to kill the beasts without damaging the skulls. All of them had been distracted, too concerned with carrying out the proper rituals of the chiva. Only himself, A'chide, and another warrior stood between the Bad Bloods; the unblooded were as useless as pups. Their first prerogative had been to annihilate the renegades, but ten warriors against three were stacked odds. A'chide had held them off while Gur'rung and the other warrior had redirected the unblooded back to the camp. The unblooded were the future of the clan; their safety was priority.

H'dlak had shot A'chide with a dart that administered a sleep draught. Gur'rung had attempted to fight his way into the fray to save their leader, but it had proved fruitless. The Bad Bloods were seeking revenge, and they would not be sated until they achieved it. The blooding ceremony would not continue until the renegades were destroyed.

"Overseer, our scout has returned."

Gur'rung was pulled from his reverie, instinctively growling at the scout who cowered under his glare.

With a bowed head, the Yautja reported, "They have sealed the mountain pass; a rockslide of some sort triggered by rudimentary explosives. It will take twice as long to go our original route."

The second-in-command huffed in displeasure. Time was of the essence. The sooner they discovered the renegade's camp the better. Allowing them time to plan a strategy made them more dangerous.

"Is there another option?"

"We may go through the tunnels beneath the mountains."

Gur'rung mulled over the idea. The mountain they would travel under held the Queen kiande amedha, though she did not pose so much of a threat. The Queen was secure in a cage near the mountain's peak. Her escape was unlikely. What could pose a threat were the hatchlings she bred. Most were younglings, easily disposable by any simpleton with a weapon. There were a sizeable amount of adults present, but if they hastened through the tunnels then there would be little concern.

Glancing over at Camilla, Gur'rung saw that she was fidgeting with the gun holster he had supplied her with. The Ooman couldn't stray from his sight.

His consent to the proposed plan was given. There were four warriors accompanying him, including the scout. All of them were younger than himself, but they were experts in combat. A'chide had hand-picked them; so, it was only fitting that they were involved in the leader's rescue. They took a brief respite to ready themselves. Once they were in the tunnels, they wouldn't have a moment to rest.

Camilla approached him, her wide Ooman eyes warily surveying the crest that loomed over them, "We are going into that?"

"This is no time for you to become scared, pet," he said gruffly.

"I'm not scared! I was just wishing to know the plan. I told you, I'm coming with you no matter what."

Her words belied the unease apparent in her voice.

"We will move quickly through the mountain. It will take no time at all," Gur'rung meant for the words to be comforting, but it was not an easy task for a Yautja with little experience dealing with sentimental emotions.

Camilla sighed, "There is just something unsettling about being here..."

Gur'rung had a vague idea about what she was referring to. Again, he wanted to press the woman about her feelings but refrained. There would be time to pry later. His own feelings of apprehension were forcefully stifled. The scout signaled for them to begin entering the mountain tunnels. They followed in suit behind the lookout. The skies had cleared out, the inky darkness of nightfall illuminated by the silver glow of the planet's dual moons.

"Stay by my side, there are hard meats in the mountain."

The female immediately moved closer to him, her combat stick drawn.

It had been many decades since he had traversed the tunnels. His chiva had been held on this exact planet and, during that time, Gur'rung had quickly proven himself a master pupil. His name had grown synonymous with prowess, he was a credit to his blood lineage. It was during the final blooding ceremony where he had first met A'chide. His commander had been a newly designated Elder back then, a seasoned veteran of the hunt sent to oversee their final trials. The two Yautja shared the same ancestral blood lineage, A'chide's womb brother was Gur'rung's own sire.

Motion sensor pathways brightened as they passed providing just enough light to see.

These were not the halls were hunts took place. These particular path was used for simple traveling purposes. Unlike the hunting chambers, which were completely dark forcing a Yautja to rely on his expert vision. The unblooded fought without hunting masks, forcing them to rely on pure ability. It was during these particular trials where the unblooded faced death for the first time. Those that succeeded could truly call themselves warriors.

Gur'rung and the other Yautja currently donned viziers. The headgear was indispensable to their mission providing heat sensors and a real-time layout of their surroundings.

The tunnel began to descend at a sharp drop.

At the head of the group, the scout nimbly traversed the steep decline followed by his comrades. The Yautja claws provided excellent traction for gripping the dirt floor. Gur'rung offered Camilla his arm to use as a guide. Her small hand grasped his forearm while the other held on tightly to her weapon. Their progress was slow and steady. By this rate it would be the dead of night when they arrived at the Bad Bloods' camp.

Camilla would remain a good distance away from the fight. If things were to go wrong she was under strict instruction to retreat for the camp and signal for ships. Back up was in place if it were needed. Gur'rung doubted his contingency plans would be put to use, but it was the Yautja way to plan accordingly.

As they made their way further down the decline, the lights appeared to stop functioning. He signaled for someone to inspect the sensors. These halls had been appraised before their arrival to the planet. All technology was marked as up to date.

"The wiring has been compromised. It appears as if the cables have been cut."

Pauk!

Perhaps, a back up plan would be necessary after all.