Alien Predators

Riding from orbit to planet-side in an escape capsule was about the least comfortable thing you could do. But when your ship was dead in space and you were unable to break out of a decaying orbit, the escape capsule was all that was left to try.

The capsule's sole occupant was Greg Blackburn, captain, partial owner (with the bank) and sole occupant of the merchantman Aurora, which was even now breaking up as it plummeted toward the planet. Greg was plummeting too, but that's what the capsule was designed for, so he wasn't too worried about making it down in one piece. He was a lot more concerned about what was going to happen when he got down. The planet below was an unknown. Not uncharted, but unexplored and unsettled. He had found time to send out an SOS, not that there was anyone to hear it out here, and he had hopes that someone would come looking for him when he failed to arrive at Terra Station on time. Hopes, but not much expectation.

That was part of why he spent most of the ride down from orbit swearing. When the g-forces of the descent allowed him to catch his breath, at least.

Finally, the speed of descent fell to the correct level and there was a tremendous bang that made his ear's ring, then a series of painful jolts as the drone and finally the big parachute was deployed. The sensation of uncontrolled hurtling and breakneck speeds was replaced by a slow descent and a gentle rocking motion.

Greg checked the few instruments that the capsule provided, he was at 8,000 feet so he had a little time before landing. He took one minute to stretch his cramped body as well as he could in the limited space. Then he turned his attention to preparing for landing.

The distress beacon was on, that was automatic. Gravity was on the high side, 1.3 standard G's. Air was acceptable, somewhat less oxygen but within the norms. Temperature... He blinked and looked again, 112 degrees with 99% humidity. And he wasn't even all the way down yet? Shit, no wonder the place wasn't colonized, nobody would want to live here.

He started scanning the radio frequencies, nothing but static. Great. He wiped images of five star hotels with swimming pools out of his mind.

He flipped on the external cameras and began scanning the area below.

Jungle. Thick canopy, a few breaks here and there, a river off to one side but not close. Some animals flying around, but they were too far away for a good look. Nothing moving on the ground that he could see.

Speaking of thick canopy... shit, nothing under the capsule but trees, or whatever they were called here. Of course. Coming down in an open area would be too much to ask.

The crashing sounds of contact were followed by a long series of scraping sounds, breaking sounds, slams, all of which accompanied the rocking and twisting of the capsule as it caromed from one branch to another. Then with a thump all motion stopped. Greg checked the camera and the altimeter.

Yep, still about 30 feet off the ground. Naturally. He sighed heavily. Why should my luck change now?

Reaching back he found the release for the hatch and pulled it down. It groaned, then popped open suddenly. He unbuckled his straps and began extricating himself from the capsule, muttering curses under his breath.

Once out he carefully pulled the seat forward so he could reach the storage area in back. It contained a large knapsack for the standard emergency supplies. A few days food and water, first aid kit, one side arm, a few other things that would keep him alive. Hopefully. He slung his gear on his back and began working his way slowly down, moving carefully from branch to branch.

The tree was surprisingly easy to climb, the branches were thick enough to support his weight and close enough together. The sunlight faded as he descended, the temperature dropped a degree or two but stayed blisteringly high. Sweat was streaming off his face when he dropped the last 5 or 6 feet to the ground.

The forest floor was thick with damp mulch, his boots sank several inches into the mess when he dropped. There was a thick smell of damp and rot on the air. He was already sweating through his clothes.

He dropped the backpack, then unzipped the one-piece ship suit he was wearing and worked his arms out of the sleeves. He tied the sleeves around his waist.

He raised his head to look around again and focused on a gun barrel an inch from the bridge of his nose.

It looked like a gun barrel. Best to assume it was a gun barrel.

"Enshalla," a voice said sharply. "Enshalla besh. Besh!" That was definitely a command. No doubt about it.

With infinite caution he raised his spread hands to shoulder height, then forced his eyes away from the barrel to the weapon's owner.

He didn't recognize the species. Tall, but not as tall as Greg's own 6'4", slender, pale, almost white, skin, thick white hair that rose in an unruly crest from the top of its head and fell most of the way down its back.

And, unless its anatomy was wildly different from Greg's, female. There were some definite curves to the thing. Woman. Whatever.

"You don't need to point the gun at me, okay," he said automatically. "See? Hands are up in a clearly non-threatening way. We can all relax, okay? All friends here."

It, no she, responded with a long string of sounds in its, her, own language.

"I don't guess you understand Standard, do you? Of course you don't, why would my luck start improving?"

Another string of words, longer this time, that was followed by her jabbing the end of the gun sharply against his forehead.

"Hey, that's not necessary, alright? Why don't we all just make like friends. You know, friends?"

She narrowed her eyes and considered his face.

"Of course you don't. Shit" the word popped out without thinking about it.

Her response was very clear. "Shit."

"Yes, that's a good way to sum things up." Moving slowly he patted his own chest with his hand. "Greg Blackburn." Then he held his hands out in what he hoped was a questioning way. She did the eye narrowing thing again. Greg decided that was her 'what the hell' expression, so he repeated the process again.

Cautiously she reached out to pat his chest. "Greg Blackburn." She had a problem with the L sound and it came out more like "Brackbuurn" but it was close.

"Yes, Greg Blackburn. Now you?" He motioned to her again.

She patted her own chest. "Semaar Answah"

"Now we're getting somewhere. Nice to meet you, Semaar Answah. You want to put the gun down now that we're being all friendly and everything?"

He made a motion to her to lower her weapon. She grunted and dropped it into a holster strapped to her thigh. He took a moment to notice her clothes. Surprisingly like his own, actually. Pants made of thick cloth and bloused into heavy boots, and shirt that looked a lot like the t-shirt he had worn under his ship suit. She was sweating profusely, just as Greg was, so the shirt wasn't really hiding anything. What he could see was pretty nice, too. This was not the time for that he told himself sharply.

He was startled when she stepped closer and took his chin in her hand. She bent his head down so she could look in his eyes, then turned his head to either side. She released his chin then ran her fingers through his dark hair. What? Was she looking for fleas?

She ran her hands down his arms, lifted his hands so she could examine his fingers in detail, patted his chest a few times, then, the oddest of all, leaned in close and sniffed him.

What she found seemed to satisfy her because she stepped back.

There was a creak, then a snap of something breaking above them. Greg glanced up and saw the limb the capsule was resting on was bending alarmingly. He snagged the backpack, grabbed her arm and pulled her away, just as the branch gave way and the thing began a pinball down from branch to branch. It all ended with the capsule smashing loudly into the ground. The parachute hung from where it had snagged on a branch somewhere above.

She pulled her arm out of his grip and stepped closer to examine it. That only took a few minutes, there wasn't much to see.

"Kash needo freng, na." A question maybe?

"If you say so."

"Na" She kicked the capsule. Greg couldn't disagree with the sentiment.

Semaar was having difficulty figuring this creature out. It bore a startling resemblance to her own people, except for its dark skin, long dark hair and green eyes. But that was no surprise, there were many species in the galaxy that had the same general build. The biped design was so practical that evolution seemed to find it again and again.

None of that was the problem, the problem was its gender.

Not female, that much was obvious. Too big to be a male, but it spoke and it seemed to be fairly intelligent. In fact it had taken the initiative in exchanging names. So, there was no way it could be a drone either. So what was it? Something new?

Semaar gave herself a mental shake and got back to business. Time would tell.

The capsule seemed to be of no importance to her, so after the kick she turned, made a motion that Greg took to mean 'follow me' and set off through the jungle.

It was a longish walk complicated by the soft, sometimes squishy, ground. The trees were large, but there was little undergrowth, so that helped. The heat and humidity did not. Greg felt like he was breathing water, he was panting and dripping perspiration before they had good 500 yards. So was his guide.

She scanned the area as they walked. Did that mean there were dangerous animals or was she just naturally cautious? He heard animals moving nearby, and even saw a few small animals on the ground or in the trees, but didn't see anything large enough to be considered a threat. Still, he followed her example and kept his eyes open and moving.

Most of the trees seemed to be fruit or nut bearing. Were they edible? He'd have to do some serious testing before eating anything, surely something here would turn out to be something he could eat?

Now, all he needed was clean water. And a luxury liner to get him off this smelly sauna of a planet. A luxury liner staffed by beautiful women. Scantily clad beautiful women bearing every intoxicating beverage known to man. With ice. Well, if you're gonna dream, dream big.

He let himself get distracted by his guide's backside for a minute. No, forget it. She may not be hostile, but she had looked too handy with that pistol. Not to mention the big knife strapped to her other thigh. It was a nice backside though.

He heard running water minutes before he saw it. Finally they entered a clearing and he saw the water.

A stream of clear water 3 or 4 yards wide flowed into a big pond, then flowed out the other side. The small clearing wasn't much, no shelter or anything, just a fire-pit (She lit a fire? Really?) , a small pile of equipment he didn't pay much attention to and not much else. Home Sweet Home.

Greg dropped his backpack where he stood and stretched to get the kinks out of his back. He walked around a bit and spotted what had to be a latrine trench a few yards away, hidden in the trees. Good, she seemed to be a tidy home-maker. He heard a splash and turned to look.

Her clothes were in a pile by the pond and she was swimming in the pond. All her clothes? Hmm, the water was pretty clear so yep, all her clothes.

The water did look pretty nice. No, give her some privacy, you can have a swim when she's done.

He dug the water testing kit out of his pack and checked the stream. Pure and fresh, he could only hope there were no micro-organisms in it that would cause a problem. He saw fish, or whatever this planet's equivalent was. If they could be tickled the way earth fish could be he'd be having fresh caught fish for dinner.

Semaar stepped out of the pond, wringing water out of her hair. Okay, obviously privacy was not going to be a big issue for her. She was naked and making no issue out of it. Greg wasn't sure he could be so casual about it.

He couldn't help but notice that the only place she had any hair was on her head. He couldn't help but notice because he was staring. If the backside was nice, the front view was even better.

She stepped to the pile of equipment, so he took the opportunity while her back was turned to quickly strip and dive in the pool too. Hopefully the water was cold enough to take his mind off her.

The water wasn't exactly cool, but it was cooler than the air and felt wonderful.

The pond was bigger than he had expected, 25 or 30 yards across and easily 30 feet deep. There were more of the fish things in them but they avoided him so he quit worrying about them. Nothing walking on the bottom that he could see. It seemed ideal.

Semaar wandered the perimeter of the camp out of habit, ending up near the stream as she usually did. The sounds the water made always soothed her, and she felt the need for soothing right then. Two years on this ugly, smelly, unpleasant planet were beginning to wear on her. It didn't even present enough of a challenge to be interesting; all of the trees bore fruit or something edible, so gathering food never took very long. She had seen no sign of any dangerous animal life. The animals she did see were harmless and easy to catch. Her worse problem was boredom.

Perhaps that was why she had invited this creature to join her. It wasn't in her people's nature to be sociable with aliens, but she needed something to divert her. Anything. And it would be handy to have around, at least.

It seemed pleasant enough. Its body was attractive and it had an intriguing smell. Truth be told, it had a very nice smell. She had pretty much decided it was a drone after all. Surely a male would have paid more attention to her?

She glanced at it idly as it stepped out of the water heading for its clothes. Then her eyes snapped back.

She was pushing it back against a tree before it could realize what was happening.

Not it. Him.

"Hey!"

Not a brilliant response but Semaar had taken him completely by surprise. Before Greg knew what was happening she had pushed him against a tree and was bracing him there with her arm against his throat.

"Look, just take it easy, okay? Whatever it was that I did just tell me." Okay, that was stupid, wasn't it. She couldn't tell him anything. Moron.

She wasn't listening, she was looking down. What was so fascinating?

Then he found out what was so fascinating.

Could that really be what it looked like?

Keep in mind, this is an alien, so maybe it's not what it looks like. Then again, maybe it is.

If it was, it would react in a particular way, wouldn't it? Only one way to find out.

She wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed.

"Okay...Okay that's personal. You probably shouldn't... Oh boy. Look can we talk..."

Greg's body was responding to her touch, he knew it and he couldn't stop it. She had her hand locked around his dick and was stroking him, like she knew exactly what she was doing. The way she was rubbing her tits against his chest as her hand moved on him wasn't helping any. And the more she did it the less he wanted her to stop.

She wasn't staring at his crotch anymore, she was looking at his face. She did know what she was doing and she was enjoying it.

Well, so was he. Too much. What was she saying?

"You like this. I can tell you do. You want more? Yes?"

She stopped pumping and pressed her prize to her stomach, rubbing it against her skin just for the pleasure of feeling it.

Semaar had been with her share of men. She had touched and fondled her share of male members. She had put a few inside too. But this one was different. The shape was different, she liked the way the end flared out into that helmet shape. That could make sex very interesting for her. Should she... No, not this time. It had an impressive size too. Very.

She began to pump it in her fist. His eyes fluttered.

"Yesss, you like this. Good. We will do this often."

For shit sake, she's got to know what she's doing. Damn, it feels good. What is she... Oh fuck me.

There was too much other stuff in Greg's head for him to completely relax and enjoy himself, so the orgasm that hit him was not particularly strong. But it had been a while for him so there was a lot. Did she... fuck, she did. She had caught his semen in her other hand and was smelling it. Fuck, are you kidding me?

She made a pleased sound and touched her tongue to it. Then she made a soft growling sound and began to lick it up like a cat. She was greedy about it too, she got it all.

Greg was still recovering and didn't have a clue what to think or say, so he watched her face closely. As a result he saw her eyes dilate until there was nothing but pupil to see. She bared her teeth at him, growled deep in her throat and pressed her body against his.

She pushed her arm back against his throat. Okay whatever was going on she wasn't finished, clearly. So when she took his hand in hers and pressed it between her thighs he wasn't too surprised.

He wasn't too surprised to find a perfectly acceptable vagina there, after all he had seen her naked. What was surprising was that it was swollen and wet, clearly she was ready.

Her lips drew back over her clenched teeth. "Cha che, besh."

Huh?

"Cha che, BESH!"

She moved his hand against her. Her eyes rolled back a bit in her head.

"Besh!"

Okay, that was more of a groan than a growl but it was clearly a command. Greg took a chance and pressed two fingers into her. She closed her eyes and shuddered. He could feel her pressing down on his hand and grinding against his fingers. Must be the right thing. He matched his movement to hers and pushed his fingers in deeper. She growled again and grabbed his hair in both hands. At first he thought she was pulling him down for a kiss but she buried her face in his neck and writhed against him. She was making noises that sounded like she was enjoying it. His thumb found what he had expected to find and he rubbed the swollen nub.

Her body tensed and she made "A...A...A...A" sounds that grew louder until she shook hard.

Then she bit him. She sank her teeth into his neck right at the shoulder. And she wasn't gentle about it.

"OUCH GODDAMMIT"

Her arm fell away and he put his fingers to his neck when she raised her head. When he looked there was blood on his fingers.

"Goddammit, what are you, a vampire? You fucking crazy lady."

"Fucking crazy lady!"

Okay, gotta stop teaching her to swear.

"You know, you could've just asked."

If anything her grin was broader. She was feeling pretty pleased with herself and she threw back her head and laughed. At least that's what he assumed the sound meant. She grabbed his hair and pulled his head down so she could lick the bite marks on his neck.

Well, that decides it, this one is definitely male. Sameer could feel the boredom receding already.

With no more fuss than that, she stepped away and dove back into the pool. Well, their activities had made Greg sweat quite a bit, so he jumped in too. She ignored him, for the most part. It was like nothing of any significance had happened at all. That was kind of deflating.

Well, maybe it wasn't anything significant, she was an alien so don't judge her by your standards. Still... a little acknowledgment would be nice.

Screw it. Get back to staying alive.

He climbed out, dressed and got some gear out to began testing some of the fruits from nearby trees. Everything seemed fine, although the testing gear couldn't tell him anything about taste so the first bite into something new would be an adventure.

Greg heard a rumble of thunder off in the distance, then others that gradually moved closer. Of course, a humid atmosphere under so much direct sunlight? Afternoon thunderstorms were inevitable. Probably every afternoon at more or less the same time. This near the stream the canopy wasn't thick enough to offer much protection but he had an idea about that.