Honour of the Hunter

Author's Note.

Well you've probably heard (read as read) the whole this is my first fan fiction, please be nice, blah blah blah I sound like an idiot rubbish a thousand times before. So I'm just going to ask that you read and hopefully enjoy, review (this story is set to allow anonymous reviews) and if you really have to flame then go ahead, I can just about take it.

The story will alternate between one character's P.O.V. and the next and so on with occasional deviations from this rule to fit in another P.O.V. before returning to the rule at the point where it left off.

And I don't know a great deal about the world of Alien/Predator and so will probably make a lot of mistakes, I only ask that you bare with me, and if I mess up or you merely wish to inform me of a certain detail then stick it in a review and as long as it's true and not just some stupid joke then I will either edit it in or put it in a later chapter.

Suggestions are highly welcome and if you include the necessary information then I will give credit.

Finally I know that the connection to Alien/Predator will not be immediately apparent but just hang in there until chapter two and you'll see, YOU'LL ALL SEEEE! MWAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAplf 'cough' 'cough' 'cough'… sorry 'bout that.

Chapter 1. Trial by Fire.

Burning.

Everything was burning right before her helpless sight. The Monastery, her one and only home for the last twelve years was going up in flames, the thick column of smoke fleeing the ruins of the holy buildings.

The woman atop the hill was young, no more then 16 or 17 by appearance though which of these was unknown even to her since she had been abandoned without any birth records. Long black hair was bound into a ponytail with the same grey cloth which made up her loose clothing, several ornate, serrated blades woven in to the ponytail with another, heavier blade at the end. Pale skin and deep green eyes, bright with devious intelligence, contrasted sharply with her hair. The effect of this was such that some might go as far as to call her beautiful. However young as she was, the long, thin sword strapped to her back would discourage anything further.

Within the smoke cloud demonic shapes formed. Staring down and mocking the place that had so long denied them entry. The place that had long refused them the foothold that the rest of the world gave them. Welcoming the demons with their dishonourable ways, and material obsessions.

Despite several minutes having pasted since she sprinted up the slope and fell to her knees in despair at the sight of her home destroyed, she remained seated where she had stopped.

Her mouth opened and closed, trying desperately to form denials, arguments, sobs, screams, anything to break the grim silence that presided over the place that just hours ago had been so full of life. Eyes closed tight in a childish attempt to block out the events before her, shaking in horror as the images merely painted themselves across her eyelids.

Finally she mustered the will to open her eyes and observe the scene before her as she had been trained. Still trembling she forced herself to slip into a meditative state, slowly redirecting and rebalancing her chi with long strong breaths until she was ready to face the world without fear.

Facing the ruins of her life she forced herself to process what was before her. The cast of the rubble told her without a doubt that some kind of high-powered explosive had blasted away the walls from the inside, most likely delivered by some form of shell. The bullet holes and shells which littered the area told of how her comrades had died killed before they could get to more appropriate arms.

At that realisation a wave of rage swept past the fragile barriers of control within her mind at the obvious dishonour of their attackers, she indulged the emotions for a moment before returning to the task at hand…. Wait a minute. What was the task at hand?

Looking down at the rumble and the bullet-ridden remains of those she called friends those who she had been her family since her "orphaning" all those years ago, people who had been torn from her life without warning or reason, even denied the simple gift of an honourable death by their mystery killers. It was then she realised her simple goal. Escape. Find out who killed her family. And kill them with the same lack of mercy they had shown here.

With her new goal in mind she set off through the ruins, suppressing a wave of nausea with every one of her friends' bodies she found

It had been almost an hour since she entered the ruins of the monastery and she was starting to lose the courage that she had built up before entering. Every step she came upon yet more bodies. All killed seemingly without warning, a fact which she couldn't help but wonder at. It was as if they had been killed without warning, as if…betrayed. No. That was impossible.

A small sound to her left drew her attention to one of the corpses that littered the ground. Kneeling beside the boy on the floor she gasped in recognition of the young boy before her.

"Haran." She whispered. Slowly she took in his injuries paling as she realised that his left arm had been blown off, probably by the blast which knocked rubble onto him trapping his entire lower body, "Oh gods…please…no."

"Tia. They…They attacked out of nowhere. The alarms were deactivated. We never knew." He suddenly broke off into a coughing fit blood spraying from his mouth and pooling in his remaining hand. "Tia I tried to fight but I was scared, everyone died and I… they didn't see me, I was on my way out when a grenade activated and…" he broke off into sobs of pain.

"Tia… I am sorry, I was a coward, I am dishonoured." With those last words his eyes slid closed and the last of his life slid from him with his death gasp.

"No Haran," Tia sobbed, "you are honoured in death as in life." She shut his eyes in a last gesture of respect before her own gaze slid to the knife sheathed at his side, It was… had been his chosen field of mastery, just as hers was that of the long sword.

The blade he bore was a mark of his choice just as hers, and just as hers had been it was forged with the secret techniques known only to those within the Monastery. Techniques which would create unbreakable weapons capable of outlasting the world itself.

His blade was a beautiful one. Long and thin waving back and forth ever so slightly along its length while the collection of strange metal shapes at the hilt would channel air and make sure that when thrown the blade would rotate to fly point first.

She paled as she realised that, aside from the designs which adorned it, the weapon was a much smaller version of her own. Since she had designed the blade herself that could only mean that he had made the blade to imitate her own, a sign of respect that touched her.

Making her decision she removed the sheath from his side and strapped it on. I swear to you, I will bathe your weapon in the blood of our attackers and give you your vengeance as I take my own.

A glint to her left informed her of her folly in losing focus and as she hastily ducked behind one of the more intact buildings she thanked whatever gods there were that the smoke cloud had the ruins in a state of semi-darkness. Peeping around the rubble she stifled a gasp as she finally saw her enemy.

And what she saw shocked her more then she could have imagined.

They were marines. Soldiers meant to protect them had attacked and killed innocents. Children. HER FAMILY.

Cold fury burning through her veins she stood up and utilising skills taught to her since she could walk she crept closer to the soldier, stalking him as he whispered into a comm. and started through the rubble, unaware that his death was silently hunting him from just metres away. Finally he stopped sitting on a body with such callousness that it took all her will not to rush him immediately.

She restrained herself and hid in a hollow pile of rubble just inches from the man, peering at him through a small hole. As she waited two more soldiers approached, arms full of what she slowly realised were pieces of flesh and bone.

Trophies.

She repressed a wave of mixed nausea and anger as they began laughing and joking, tossing the pieces from one to the other. It was not the taking of trophies that appalled her, heck she'd taken trophies from those fights she had won in her life, but more the lack of respect and honour. These three soldiers (two men one woman) had obviously stayed behind just to gather trophies from those they had slain without honour, it was disgusting.

They would die for it.

Pulling herself out of her hiding place onto the top of the pile of rubble she slowly drew the knife from its sheath, thinking back to the basic training she had received in knife fighting before she chose her discipline.

Tossing a rock at the base of her perch she smiled as they immediately turned to face outwards from her, eyes searching for whoever threw the rock and smiling at how someone could think that that trick would work.

With her own smile plastered to her face she dropped to the ground behind the first soldier and grabbing him from behind, with one hand over his mouth to stifle his scream as she slit his throat.

She dropped his corpse, silently cursing as the other soldiers turned at the noise of the body hitting the ground. She snapped her arm straight and sent the knife through the air to bury itself in the other man's neck.

Her right hand flew to her sword ripping it from its sheath as the other woman raised her gun to fire. Tia was faster, and the barrel and upper section of the pulse rifle fell away from the rest, rendering the weapon useless. The woman threw her weapon away and was reaching for another when Tia slammed her sword through the woman's heart, looking deep into the woman's eyes as life fled them.

I am a murderer. I am just like them.

She staggered backwards in horror of what she had done, leaving her sword embedded in the corpse of the last soldier. She stared at the bodies around her, wondering how they could be so full of life one second, and utterly empty the next.

By my hand. Overcome by a sudden need to purge herself, Tia hurled herself to her hands and knees and vomited until her stomach was empty.

Once that was done she rose unsteadily to her feet, collected her weapons and continued on her journey into the ruins.

Finally after three hours of picking her way through a seemingly impassable maze of rubble she reached her goal, the master's shrine.

A swift glance at the bodies that littered the area was all she needed to see that this had been where her family had made their last stand.

But it was still strange, many of the monks' bodies lay outward, sliced open by a blade similar to the one she carried, and no marine would wield a sword. In other words, they had been betrayed.

She stalked cautiously through the battlefield, determined not to be caught unaware by other "rearguard" trophy-hunters. Fresh grief hit her as each step took her closer to the irrevocable fact that her master, her "father" and probably the "older brother" who had protected her throughout her life were both gone.

Still she had not found their bodies, they might have gotten away, and she had to know.

Her steps had brought her to the doorway of the shrine, the proud oak doors blasted to splinters. With silent footsteps she made her way through to the master's garden, stopping at the tattered remnants of the door to the garden.

She slid the door aside and screamed at the sight of her beloved master's face, cold and dead, on his severed head, atop his fully extended spear. The weapon's other end impaled in the ground beside the man's body.

She staggered to the corner of the garden and threw up, retching as the stench of his blood overwhelmed her. Footsteps began to approach at the sound but she didn't care, she still didn't care as the steps halted and she felt the tip of a rifle at her neck and she prepared for death.

But the shot never came, instead the pressure left her neck and a woman crumpled to the ground behind her. She looked up and gasped at what she saw.

Above her, his sword dripping with the marine's blood was her guardian angel, her big brother and protector. And he was smiling down at her. "Hey little one."

With a small squeak of joy she leapt up into his arms, hugging him as tight as she could to make sure he doesn't leave her, terrified that he would turn out to be an illusion, a demon in disguise come to taunt the last of the monks of Cor Aren.

But he stayed, strong arms encircling her trembling form. "It's okay, little one, I've got you know, you're mine."

Wha… what did he mean hi… Her thoughts were interrupted by the heavy feel of his lips on hers in a gentle, loving kiss. The moment was destroyed as she staggered back, gasping in surprise at the strangeness of her first kiss.

But he was determined not to let her get away, pinning her to the wall and kissing her again, this time roughly, not paying any attention to her frantic attempts to get him off.

Finally he released her to look at her for a second, grabbing her before she could flee. He brought her close to him and whispered into her ear "Where are you going, I've just saved your life. Do you not owe me to at least pretend to return my feelings?"

Shocked at his behaviour she ripped his hands from herself and answered, "I am not a whore, and you are my brother!"

"Not your true brother."

"But close as one."

Suddenly rough her grabbed her before she could react and, with his breath hot on her face whispered, "Then I guess I am damned again for desiring my kin. Not that it matters, in the eyes of the Aren I am already damned a thousand times over…"

Suddenly fearful she asked him "Why, what have you done."

"Have you not guessed yet, I betrayed you all, I disabled the alarms, I stabbed the others in the back." Leaning in to her face he grinned, "And I am the one who killed the master."

She cried out at the last, and tried to strike him, only to scream in pain as he reversed the blow breaking her arm. "Now that the truth is out I guess it is time to see if you were telling the truth when you said you were not a whore."

Overcome with horror now she tried desperately to tear away from him and run, but his grip was strong and she had no choice but to sit and scream as he groped her.

He passed his hands under her top and groped roughly at her breasts, his sharp nails cutting them deeply and soaking her top in blood. He scowled as she squirmed beneath him. Her lack of compliance angered him beyond reason, and with one hand he ripped away her top then undid his own clothing baring himself before her.

He noticed her terrified gaze toward his pulsing length and laughing cruelly he grabbed her breasts and started to thrust between them, quickly finding his release and spraying his seed over her face.

Through her sobs she noticed his distraction at this point, taking advantage of this she grabbed his balls and twisted making him howl in pain as she gathered her shirt and made to run.

Just as it seemed she might get away a hand snapped closed around her ankle and she fell face first into the ground, her nose breaking at the impact with the ground.

"I had hoped to take you with me but it seems I will just have to finish you off now." With that he grabbed Haran's knife and impaled her left ankle pinning it to the ground, then he drew her sword and did the same to her right shoulder, immobilising her utterly. Then with a lurid grin he tore away the rest of her clothes and entered her.

Through the waves of agony she became aware of a new set of emotions. Of anger and the desire for vengeance placing their poisonous seed deep within her as the man she once called brother did the same. As blessed darkness encroached on her mind she swore with the last of her strength to hunt this man and all allied to him down, then kill them as mercilessly as they killed her family.

With this thought she lost consciousness, the dark smile on her face puzzling her violator for a moment before he shrugged and returned to his dark deeds.