The Hunter-Trial

Two years later.

Schroeder was disappointed, albeit yet unable to decide if he was surprised or not. Should he have made a more impressive announcement regarding this two-year test? Should he have, pre-hatching, told the unborn yautjadragons more about the test to make them more interested in returning for it? Had he made the wrong decision in only sending proper invitations to those pairs that taken the initiative and indicated that they would be returning? Should he have sent the invitations out to everyone, regardless? These were only a few of the questions bounding around in his mind, though he knew having answers for them wouldn't do him any good, at least not now. Maybe the next time he synthed a batch of Venators, he would do things differently. Maybe.

But for now, for today, he had a test to run.

To every one of his "grandchildren" that had, somehow or another, indicated they wanted to come back for today, Schroeder had sent out personal invitations giving the proper time to return to the Abstract Destiny. It was two years, exactly, from the day of the Genesis hatching, and just clicking into the fifth hour of the day shift. Schroeder's invitations, handwritten on his blue stationery and delivered by whatever means necessary to get them where they had to go, had stated the sixth hour--just after lunch--as test-time.

Of the invitations, there had only been four. Twenty-two Venators hatched, nineteen of them gone out into the world with new bonds, and only four of them were coming back for their test. It was most distressing, but perhaps after a hatching gone so flawlessly, this was a let-down to make up for it?

Oh well. Live and learn.

The Abstract Destiny was docked to Deck Eight of the station, the "front door"--actually a dismantled airlock--standing wide open to admit the handful of guests it was awaiting.

Timan was the first, a half hour early, with his ill-suited bond in tow. Schroeder's assistant Devika was there to greet them, and direct them down the tall corridor to where the doors of Alpha Bay stood open to meet them. A large, colorful banner hung on one wall read "Welcome home! Good luck!" in cheerful letters, and there were human-sized chairs arrayed across the moss. Schroeder sat in a chair beneath the sign with a beaming smile on his face. Valentine lurked, shadow-like, behind the doctor's chair, while beside the doctor sat Sahurru, in human form and also smiling.

The pair was welcomed in and greeted warmly, and bid to make themselves comfortable until everyone else arrived. For Timan, that meant running through a sequence of limbering stretches. For Joqout, that meant taking a seat and attempting some idle chatter with the doctor, and finding the man easy to talk to and happy to chatter over any topic brought up, with Sahurru joining in from time to time.

The other invitees trickled in after that, all of them some degree of early. Aden and his bond's "pet", Hellim, filling the role of moral support while Svar herself had to work; Chevon and her bond Nairne, who Sahurru smiled to see; and Driyon, accompanied by his furry bond Ziwevc.

When they were all gathered, the few that they were, Schroeder stood up and addressed them all, using only his voice. With so small a group, he didn't need to back himself up with his own telepathy, as he had at the hatching.

"Well, everyone, thank you for coming and being so punctual," he began. "I know you're all eager to take your tests--or see how your bonds do on theirs--so I won't keep you waiting. Here's how it'll work."

::Wait, you mean there's only the four of us?:: Driyon exclaimed, looking at his sister and two brothers in surprise.

The doctor sighed, nodding. "You are the only ones that did as I asked made it clear to me that you would be coming back today, so you are the only ones that received those invitation letters I sent you."

::What about the others that stayed with you?:: asked Aden.

Schroeder smiled again. "Samurn, Osen, and Chetan? They've had their tests. You can say they tested the test for me." He looked towards the open bay door. "Here they are."

The four invitees and those that had come with them turned to follow the doctor's gaze, and watched with mixed levels of amazement, curiosity, and admiration as their brothers and sister strode in. The three yautjadragons wore silvered steel masks across their face, had had their hair braided into thick cords and bound with silver adornments, and wore torso harnesses of leather and some kind of netting, like fishnet but thicker. Steel gauntlets encased their forearms, sharp points extending from the back of the right-hand gauntlet, and odd leather gloves clothed their hands. They each had a strange, disk-like weapon strapped to one thigh, and Chetan and Samurn appeared to have shoulder-mounted cannons of some sort attached to their body armor.

"Your siblings," Schroeder announced, as the three lined up and removed their helmets with ceremonial timing, "are now Samurnde, Osende, and Chetande. Today you are Unblooded, as they were, and you will test as they did, for the right to be Blooded, to append the honorific 'de' to your names, and for the right to wear armor and bear weapons like theirs."

With their helmets removed, the scar each yautjadragon now had on their forehead was obvious: two short, tapering slashes laid out in a T-like design. The same mark was evident on the brow of their masks.

"That mark on their foreheads," Schroeder indicated, "is the Blood Mark. To be Blooded is to be among the most honored of your kind, and it is a ritual I have adapted from your parent-race, the yautja. For a yautja to earn their mark, they undergo a trial called the Hard Meat Trial. That's the loose translation of it, anyhow."

"The proper name," growled a heavily-accented voice, belonging to a new humanoid figure walking in through the bay door, "being kainde amedha chiva. Though I wouldn't trust your human tongue to say that right."

Due to the resemblance between the newcomer and the yautjadragons, there was only one thing in the world this woman could be: a yautja. Her scarred skin was a speckled tan, and she wore armor and carried weapons nearly identical to the ones being worn by the three Blooded yautjadragons. She held her mask tucked under one arm, and both it and her own forehead were marked with the same Blood Mark of the yautjadragons she moved to stand in front of.

"You wouldn't trust me to do anything right," Schroeder sniffed as if in distain, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

"Damn right," she rumbled, giving the Blooded yautjadragons a glance, then looking over at the four who had come to be tested. "Only four returned? Pauk! You diluted them too much."

"Oh, now you call them diluted!" Though the giant woman could have gutted him in an instant with the sharp blades on her right gauntlet, Schroeder gave her hip (that was all he could reach!) a shove. The yautja barely moved. "You really ought to make up your mind. First I'm using too much, and now I've used too little!"

"I did make up my mind," the yautja rumbled, putting a hand on Schroeder's head and appearing to lean on him as if he were a fencepost. "I made up my mind to change my mind."

Those who had never seen this yautja before looked somewhat bewildered by this odd exchange, but Sahurru and the Blooded yautjadragons snickered among themselves.

As if he were not being leaned on, and as if the yautja was not drumming her fingers idly on his forehead, Schroeder turned his attention to his guests. "This abominable woman, my children," he announced with a mock long-suffering sigh, "is Rhakarndi. She is, as much as you can be said to have one, is your mother."

"Oh please," Rhakarndi scoffed, though her annoyance seemed as false as Schroeder's, and she took her hand off the man's head. "I had nothing to do with raising these jehdin. Do not credit me as anything more than one of a dozen blood samples."

"It was only seven, actually, but if you insist…" Schroeder turned back to the Unblooded dragons. "Whether she's your mother or not, Rhakarndi will be judging you on your tests today. If she judges you worthy after seeing you in action, she will Blood you with her own Blood Mark."

::So what is the test?:: an eagerly impatient Timan finally had to demand.

"The Hunter-Trial!" Schroeder cheered, pulled back on track. "Yautja earn their rank by going out and killing their first kainde amedha--see, I can too say it--that is, their first xenomorph. Now to be fair, that means I should probably be pitting you all against xenodragons, but they're a bit hard to come by, so I put together something else for you instead. But why spoil the surprise? Rhakarndi, if you'd make your choice?"

The yautja woman put her hands to her hips, and looked at the four Unbloodeds. Finally she pointed a thick claw at Aden. "You. Schroeder seems to think this trial will be a joke for you. Something about already being well versed in a proper Hunt. You shall be first. Follow us. Your companion must remain here."

Rhakarndi left the bay at that, while Aden looked as if he'd just been poleaxed, gaping at his grandfather-creator in bewilderment. The man looked innocent.

"What?" he asked, winking. "Don't go staring at me, now, come along! You don't want her docking points from you, now."

Aden undoubtedly would have preferred ask how it was Schroeder knew what he by all rights shouldn't have, but had no choice but to do what the man said. After Hallim fluttered from his shoulder to the ground, he followed Rhakarndi and Schroeder (in turn followed by Valentine) out of Alpha Bay, and after a moment, the whish-hum could be heard of Bravo Bay's door opening and closing out of sight.

"And now, we wait," Sahurru announced for those left behind.

The wait was not short, but it was not terribly long. Samurnde and Sahurru both disappeared for a moment, and the pair returned with trays laden with cup of water (dragon-sized cups from Samurnde, and humanoid-sized cups from human-formed Sahurru) to soothe throats dry with anticipation. When Aden, Rhakarndi, and Schroeder returned, Aden looked winded and was dripping neon green blood from a variety of shallow cuts, but he also looked ecstatic as he accepted one of the dragon-sized cups.

Rhakarndi's Blood Mark gleamed upon his forehead, his neon blood already clotting there.

"Adende has Blooded," Rhakarndi announced, and the renamed Adende stuck his chest out proudly.

Immediately Samurnde, Osende, and Chetande turned towards the closest wall, where an array of large metal chests had been laid out. They each opened one, and then turned back. Schroeder motioned towards them, beaming with pride. "Adende, please sit before your siblings."

Adende did as he was asked, and the others turned back towards the chests. Samurnde removed a cloth and a bottle from his, and began to clean up Adende's wounds. Osende removed a small device from his chest, and appeared to use it to take measurements of Adende's head and body. Finally, Chetande removed a handful of silver rings from her chest. When she moved to Adende, she sat beside him and began to weave his coarse hair into thick dreadlocks.

As this began, Rhakarndi picked her next choice, and pointed at Timan. "You shall be next."

Timan was led into the corridor, but once out of sight and earshot of those left in Alpha Bay, Schroeder motioned the yautjadragon to a halt as Rhakarndi continued on, ducking through the humanoid-sized door of Bravo Bay.

"Before you go in there, I have something to say to you, Timan," Schroeder stated, looking up at the yautjadragon.

Timan blinked, clicking his mandibles. If he had had hackles, they would have been bristling at the look of disappointment his creator was giving him. ::What?::

"In your first year, you wound up in jail for a night," the doctor sighed.

It took a moment for Timan's mind to roll back to the night Schroeder spoke of--an inconsequential evening where, in attempt to train his bond into the warrior he had the potential to be, Timan had attacked him in the middle of the marketplace and subsequently been arrested and thrown in jail to cool his heels overnight--but when he did remember, he flared his mandibles. ::That was forever ago! What does that have to do with anything? How do you even know about that? You're not going to-::

"Timan."

The doctor didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. He silenced his creation with a literal thought, and Timan found himself unable to speak at all as Schroeder seized his mind, gentle but also inescapable.

"I know whatever I need to know," Schroeder answered softly, though it wasn't much of an answer at all. With another thought, he made Timan drop his head closer to the floor, and gently took hold of the yautjadragon's lower mandible-tusks. "I respect what you're trying to do with Joqout, even if I think you're going about 'helping' him completely the wrong way, but if your 'enthusiasm' ever leaves you in jail again, I will not be happy with you."

Timan couldn't have protested even if he wanted to--which he did, vehemently! Schroeder's hold on his mind was stronger than even a dragon could shake off.

"You must remember, Timan," Schroeder continued with his gentle disappointment, "that you are one of my children, and anything my children do reflects upon me. You are one of my first, and you wound up in jail. I don't want to have to interfere in your life, and it has been a year since then and you haven't done that again, but if you do…." The doctor shook his head, giving Timan a sad look. "Just… stay out of trouble unless it's the kind that comes from hunting evil, would you?"

He kept his hands on Timan's tusks, but released the yautjadragon's mind. Timan shook faintly, perhaps with anger, perhaps with embarrassment, or perhaps even both, but when he pulled himself together again, he submitted. ::Yes sir.::

"Thank you, my boy." Schroeder smiled tenderly and patted Timan's nose. He left the yautjadragon for a little while, going into Bravo Bay to let Timan privately recollect himself, but eventually called the headstrong youth in and began his test.

And that was how it went. One at a time, the Unblooded yautjadragons were led into Bravo Bay to return bloody and exhausted, but with Rhakarndi's Mark etched into their foreheads. As they returned victorious, they would sit before Samurnde, Osende, and Chetande, and be cleaned, measured, and have their hair bound in dreadlocks and decorated with silver rings.

None were permitted to speak of the Trial. Only when each was led into Bravo Bay did they discover the test Schroeder had arranged for them. Only when they were alone in the Bay with Rhakarndi and their creator, would they see the gigantic android Schroeder and his team had produced for them to fight. Only after Schroeder had pointed out the glowing target-panels on the machine and directed the yautjadragon to pick a training weapon from a rack on the wall, would the robotic xenomorph queen stir to life and attack.

The battles were fast-paced, and no one came out unscathed, but no one was ever in true danger. Though vicious, the robot queen was not programmed to kill, and Schroeder had a remote to deactivate the robot if things got terribly out of hand. The remote, however, proved unnecessary. All four of the Unbloodeds, in their own time and fashion, were able to deactivate the agile machine by striking its target-panels with the weapon they had chosen.

Testing complete, Blood Marks earned, Adende, Timande, Chevonde, and Driyonde were sent home to rest and revel in their accomplishments of the day, finally permitted to speak of the Trial to whomever they cared to.

They were all called back the next day, to be presented with the trophies they had earned: armor and weapons to match what Samurnde and the others had won before them. Every piece was perfectly crafted to the warrior that had earned it, thanks to the measurements Osende had taken.

Now, truly, they were warriors.