The Lone Fighter. The Forever Fighter

The big female ran across the dimly lit hallway, her large bulky form flying past the support beams and to the Xenomorph as she jumped and planted the thick soles of her boots on the top of its banana shaped head and pushed herself back into a flip causing the drone to fall on its side in a screech. Spinning and screeching on its side, limbs flailing wildly, it finally regained its footing then hissed and rushed for her. She though unholstered her large hand-held weapon, and with a jerk of the trigger sent a laser darting out causing her hand to jerk up from the kick. The laser impacted the drone's head a millisecond later sending acidic blood, chitin and skull everywhere. Non miraculously hitting her, but a screech from behind made her spin on her heels, her pleaded locks flying behind her and rattling to a settle on the back of her armor.

A wave of Xenomorphs was charging her. Her eyes narrowed and mandibles lifted, forming into a Yautja smile. Without hesitation, she charged the on coming horde in a mighty roar of blood lust, and they clashed.

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Later, in the midst of day on top of concrete rooftops in the middle of a giant city, she was again fighting another opponent.

The Yautja females were of equal strength as they battered each other. Blocking attacks as they came. She kicked high for the head but was blocked by a sturdy armored wrist, so she remaneuvered. Shifting her weight around and went for a blow from her fist, but it too was blocked as her opponent's large hand clasped around her fist. Her opponent free hand came for her face, but it too was blocked in the same manner, and then it was a test of strength. Each fighter was struggling against each other, putting their power and sheer weight into their arms as their gazes met in fury and blood lust.

Across the rooftops was a male observing the fight, he was dressed in the same fashion of clad black armor and holstered weapons. He remained silent nor did he budge a finger to help either of them.

Their struggle went on. She now in a desperate struggle to stay in as her opponent began to over power her. Lowering her head, she grunted as she focused her power into her arms, but a second later was over powered and pushed backwards that caused her feet to shuffle and trip over the ledge that sent her falling. The feeling of being weightless overwhelmed her body and mind and caused her to drift away for a split second into serenity. But reality took control and opened her eyes to the quickly nearing ground right between the two buildings. Lifting an arm, her talons painfully scraped across the brick wall slowing her fall, and with a turn of her body took control of the fall and gracefully landed on all fours like a cat. Standing up, then looking up, she bent her knees and jumped sideways; her feet connected the wall then pushed on them sending her up even higher. Three more wall jumps got her to the top where she hooked onto the ledge then pulled up and sailed over where she landed on one knee and palm to the roof. Her opponent seeming in no shock at all had haunched forward slightly, spread her arms and mandibles opened wide as a roar bellowed out. Snarling in anger, she rushed at her opponent once again. With every blow she threw was blocked and every blow that was directed to her she had blocked as well, it was back to square one.

Suddenly, a loud bang rang in their ears then the painful howl of her opponent as one of her legs buckled from under her and fell to her back. Looking down to her opponent, she saw the wound in the side of her calf then looked to the weapon holstered at her side and bent down removing it. Standing up, she pointed it at the wound stricken female. Not moving at all now, she let it settle in the female that she was going to die. Then, without hesitation, she pulled the trigger. As before, as every other time, the laser shot from the barrel pentetrating right between the eyes burning its way through the meat and skull and straight to the brain where it burned away brain cells and finally disintegrated toward the back of the skull. Her opponent now laid in a dead heap at her feet and she turned her head. There, she saw a male dressed in durable armor and holstered with weapons, one, an old 20th Century weapon held in his hand with smoke swirling from the barrel.

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Later, in a small old apartment decorated with a variety of skulls, skins, different types of armor, swords, knifes, old and new handheld weapons and rifles, she laid her newest bed mate on his old bed and stroke his mandibles with hers which led onto other events required for the heat of mating. It wasn't until later when she awoke under the thin sheet stark naked beside her bed mate and looked to him. She looked over his muscular and scar-covered torso to his face, his mandibles fluttered slightly then rolled over in a growl. She turned from him and to the ceiling as the events that took place hours ago flooded her head. She liked him; he was strong, he knew how to carry himself with dignity. But she couldn't stay, she didn't want any sort of relationship, nothing that would require she stays tied down with husband and child, a family. She had made sure she wouldn't become pregnant any time soon either through certain medications. Flustered, she sat up and walked into the bathroom, to the sink and turned on the hot water to freshen up and wake up. She couldn't live for or with a family, it just wasn't her. She was a fighter, a huntress . . . a mercenary. The only thing she could correlate with, that she could understand and take control of if gotten out of control was fighting. She loved it. She lived for the thrill of it. There was nothing more she could want but a good fight. Cleaning herself up as quickly as possible, she exited the bathroom and quietly strapped on her clothing, armor and weapons then left the room without leaving any sort of goodbye.

Stirring, from his sleep, the male opened his eyes and immediately stretched and yawned. His big arm moving over to his mate but was surprised when he didn't feel her there. It caused him to snap out of his drowsy state and look to where his bed mate had fallen asleep last night. When seeing only sheets, he scanned the room and seen all her belongings were gone. Worried that she left sometime during the night, he jumped from his bed and bolted straight for the bedroom window and opened it then stuck his head out which overlooked the sidewalk, road and door to the apartment complex he was living in.

Casually walking down the hallway, she turned where the steps were and descended them then walked to the door that led outside and walked out onto the street. She felt the cool morning air wrap around the parts of her body that wasn't covered by clothes and armor and looked up to the window that was his bedroom window. She could tell he was still sleeping, for if he wasn't then would be bolting down those stairs or would have his head stuck out the window.

She chuckled, "Don't worry mighty warrior," she said, "it's not your fault." Then turned and walked down the sidewalk as the lone fighter she was, as the forever fighter.

The End

The world that this was set in may seem a little strange but it's just a story set apart from others, it's called "individualism". Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it.