Chapter 19: No Match For A Yautja

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***AUTHORS NOTE***

TRIGGER WARNING

THIS CHAPTER WILL CONTAIN GOREY CONTENT! MATURE VIEWERS ONLY. MAY DISTURB SOME READERS! SKIP AHEAD IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE!

***END AUTHORS NOTE***

Xai'an managed to get inside the back entrance easy enough. One of the ooman guards had been smoking a nasty smelling herb when he approached. Killing him had been easy. He hadn't even heard Xai'an approach before he snapped the oomans neck. The key card to get inside was clipped to his chest.

Though he was cloaked, there were no oomans around the narrow passage. He felt a bit cheated as he made it to the stairwell without running into another ooman, but he reminded himself that every second he wasted spilling ooman blood, the more he was making Z wait.

Baaul would be taking care of the first few floors, drawing attention so he could hunt for his prize. Which is why he went directly to the last floor. Just before he opened up into the hallway, a red light flashed above him. He clicked his mandibles together knowing the oomans were now aware of Baaul.

He waited as a herd of oomans ran past him, seemingly toward the elevators, before stepping out into the hallway. The fact they relied on those metal boxes confused him. He felt it was easier to use stairs because stairs would never need repairs like the elevator would. At least on this backwards planet anyway. Yautja Prime did not have faults like this.

He shook his head as an alarm blared right next to his head. He snarled and smashed the thing with his fist, silencing it, but there were more. There would be no way to silence them all, so he did his best to ignore them and went to the large room he had looked at with Baaul.

It was full of medical equipment, one massive machine that had a rather large needle attached to the only mechanical arm. A torture probe of some sort. There was a small desk that had several screens up, but one caught his attention, because it had a picture of his mate strapped to a metal table. Her eyes were closed, seemingly asleep, but what enraged him was that she was naked. Her small body had a bloom of bruises so big on her thighs and arms that they almost looked like tattoos.

They had tortured her! They would all die for this!

He roared as he tossed the table. A small scream drew his attention over to the left side of the room. An ooman female, several years older than his mate, sat huddled in a corner. He had missed her entirely. She was leaking out of her eyes and muttering a chant of some sort. His first thought was to kill her. No doubt she had a hand in harming his mate, but he had thought his mate would be in this room. Instead of checking every room mindlessly he'd just make this ooman take him to her.

When he dropped his cloaking, standing before her, she whimpered and tried to back herself even further into the wall she was already at. "P-please d-don't kill me! Please! I have a daughter and-"

But Xai'an didn't care about her offspring! What did he care for hers when they possibly denied him his? He roared again, pulling another scream from her and she huddled in on herself. "Where is she?" He used his mask to ask the question because he didn't want to confuse her with his attempts at English. He was also sure he wouldn't be able to tame his rage which would frighten her beyond use.

The question had the shaking ooman looking up at him. "Y-you're here for Zena?"

He gave a sharp nod. "Take me to her and I will let you live." The mixed recordings seemed to puzzle the ooman, but she nodded slowly.

"I-I t-tried to get her f-freed! I d-did-dn't want to-to hurt her!" She seemed to be barely holding herself together as she got to her feet. To prevent her from falling apart, he remained very still as she inched her way to the door he had come through and only when she opened it, did he move to follow her.

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