hunter and hunted
Fic: Hunting Park 2/3
Summary: The hunted becomes the hunter
Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS, Predator, or Stargate, and am not making any money for any of this
The colony, even with its surrounding farms was to Faith a small town, and she was definitely not a small town girl. Sunnydale might have been small but LA was close enough to make partying there a day out rather than an expedition. The marriage to Xander was originally just a cover, it explained their quirks and they genuinely were bed partners, even friends. But then she got pregnant and, instead of ‘requesting a new assignment’ – panicking and running for the hills - he got his smile back
The heart of the current problem was that this was supposed to be her retirement posting. Faith was not particularly crazy about the ‘venerated old lady slayer’ thing, given she was not even 30 yet, but it was the situation at hand, and the off world colonies had to be independent of Earth, particularly as regards security against demons, vampires etc. Jack O’Neil was a pain in the neck but he was right about that.
“But this was supposed to be a safe world, so I didn’t get any back up except Xander.” The dark slayer said quietly to herself as she walked, the weight of her broadsword feeling ever greater by her side.
It was not that she didn’t respect her lover, she did, it was simply that what was needed was an Alpha Package: four Heavy Hunter-Killer Teams, of three slayers and a witch each, with 7.62mm API ammo supported by a four Watcher support element with the full Council database, antipersonnel radar, demon and vamp rated NVG gear rather than the ‘perfectly adequate against humans and goa’uld’ Night Vision Goggles available, light anti-armour and anti-aircraft weapons, etc. What she had was her, Xander, and what they could put together.
The slayer was walking through the forest carrying a broadsword, with a squad of infantry. Good troopers, but the kind of teamwork that Uncle Jack’s Patented Slayer School produced was lacking. This was almost as primitive as the old Sunnydale days, which was saying something. She shuddered to think what one of the new crop of slayers, conditioned to having at least a Charlie package of one Heavy H-K team with watcher available on 24 hour notice, and never deliberately going up against a master vampire without it, would do in this situation.
“Watch your front!” She could almost hear the Colonel shouting, ‘watch your front’ i.e. watch your arc of fire, keep your mind on where you are and what you’re doing.
She could feel the creature, he was here nearby, she could feel it, and he was moving closer. She stopped and held her clenched fist up, signalling the column to stop. The previous patrols had ended in some hand-to-hand fighting, which impressed the hell out of the troops and presumably the alien. They had simply been intended to test if her slayer sense could find the bastards though, and that had worked.
Closer now, off to the left and closing in a straight line through the tops of the trees, about 30 feet up. The squad were looking around nervously, and only part of that nervousness was fake. Some of it was though, it was what the predator was EXPECTING to see, and so they supplied it. All were paying careful attention to the slayer; she was there guidance system, as it were.
Signalling again she caused the squad to split into two fire teams, one of which moved to be forward of her position. It was getting closer, it was a tree away, sensed not seen or heard, the cloaking system making the seven foot alien at most a slight blurring of the background, impossible to see normally. THERE, IT WAS HERE NOW! The Bostonian’s hand rose and pointed the small object hidden in it, pointed it at the alien and fired.
And the squad cut loose with everything they had, ten rifles aimed at the red spot the laser pointer she had borrowed from one of the lecturers produced. The creature jumped and dodged, but her slayer senses allowed her to keep the spot on it, and there was a crash as it hit the ground. The fall would have killed most humans all by itself.
“DIE MOTHERFUCKER, DIE ALREADY!” She shouted as she ran up and hacked at it with her sword. It was not so much to kill it as to make it visible, so she could stop it suiciding and taking everything in a quarter mile radius with it. The control mechanism was on the left gauntlet, both Dutch and Harrigan had confirmed that, so she had to make sure it was disabled.
NID group headquarters, Earth, a few days later
“Well, at least we have the pieces.” Harriman, the commander of the capture team said.
His superior just glared at him and told him to get out.
Predator home world, same time, Klortah and Motarh, tax preparation.
Klortah of the San Heltah sat and considered his late partner. Motarh had gone on a standard hunting trip and the prey had gotten him instead. Well, those were the risks, that species had now killed three hunters in less than twenty years. Then he looked at the poster on the wall, the one they had always gotten into good-natured arguments over.
It was a poster for the SAVE THE HUMANS campaign, of which Klortah was a paid up and vocal member. The organiser in the is city, in fact. Irony is ironic that way.