Protected by the Alien Warrior Triad

by Corin Cain

  With the vial hidden away, I clean my wound and press the bandage against it. The running inventory I keep in my mind of all my supplies automatically checks off another bandage gone.

  With that taken care of, I look around. The transport ship is spartan. It’s a military ship, with none of the creature comforts of civilian transport. I hate that the Aurelians are stuck back in the cargo bay, along with the vehicles and weaponry. They’ve been trussed up like they’re objects and not living, feeling, sentient creatures.

  All around me, soldiers are boasting about capturing the Aurelians, and the promotions they will receive once they bring them to the Capital.

  I tune their bragging out.

  I need to think about my next move.

  I need to be one step ahead, always. For example, what’s going to happen when I get to the Capital? I’ll be seen as a heroine – someone who survived the deadly Scorp incursion.

  Yet, I’ll also be a liability to the ruling elite. They falsified charges of kidnap and mistreatment by the Aurelians – not to mention covered up an entire firebombing.

  I swallow hard. The firebombing is the key. I run my tongue over my teeth, trying to put all the pieces together.

  Lord Aeron is the backer of the anti-Aurelian party. He needs a scapegoat. He’s going to try and blame the firebombing on the Aurelians somehow.

  I want to slam my fist against the steel wall, but I hold it in.

  “You’re safe now,” says the soldier across from me. He’s got thick muscled arms. Just a few days ago, I would have thought of him as huge. Now, despite being over six foot tall and well-muscled, he looks tiny compared to the Aurelians.

  I nod, not wanting to say anything. The ship bucks, and my stomach drops. I stifle a sound of surprise, not wanting to appear weak in front of these men. I know what men do to weak women in the slums of Barl.

  “I can keep you safe for as long as you need,” the soldier leers, his eyes flashing at me lecherously. I sit there stiffly, not wanting to draw attention to myself – and yet wondering if the time for that has already been and gone.

  The soldier continues to leer, and I feel very uncomfortable - almost naked despite my clothes. I give him a tiny smile – not wanting to enrage the soldier by ignoring him, but also definitely not wanting to encourage him.

  “It’s been… It’s been tough, I just need to sleep,” I stammer, hoping he’ll stop. The captain gives the soldier a warning glance, and the young grunt obediently shuts his mouth. I’d be a fool to trust the captain, but for now, at least, he’s keeping his testosterone-fueled, macho soldiers in line.

  I feel the heli-ship descending. There are no windows, but I don’t need the view of the beautiful Capital to know we’ve arrived at the home of Independence’s rich, wealthy, and prosperous. The Capital is the only city on my home world that has actually grown in wealth and power since the embargo.

  I understand it all now, though. All this time, I’d been told to believe that the Aurelians were the cause of all our planet’s strife – that the haughty alien species was the reason our healthcare system and economy had crumbled.

  Now, I’m realizing how foolish I’d been.

  All this time, the Capital has been taking, taking and taking – pulling in wealth through high taxation and corruption of the economy, and yet all the while blaming the Aurelians for the economic crisis this had thrown the periphery cities into.

  All this time, hatred for the Aurelians has grown and grown – but they were only ever the scapegoat for the crimes of the planet’s elite; a cover to allow the wealthy to grow even wealthier through the suffering of Independence’s most needy.

  We were so busy hating those that were unlike us – so busy hating aliens that most of us hadn’t even seen with our own eyes – that we were blind to the machinations of leaders here on Independence – like Lord Aeron.

  I curse myself.

  How could I have been so stupid all this time?

  The heli-ship touches down with a resounding thud. I’m braced and strapped in, yet I still get painfully jolted as the vessel comes to a halt. I can only imagine how rough it must be for the Aurelians in the cargo bay, strapped to a crate of weapons or tied to a vehicle. There’s a chance that Forn’s internal bleeding will begin again if something is ruptured by the jarring landing. He’s my patient, but he’s so much more to me than that. I saw the kindness in the gaze of those three warriors. I saw their devotion to me, even though they’d never even met me before. All this time, they’ve want desperately to protect me – and now I want to protect them.

  The doors to the ship open with a hiss and the soldiers unstrap themselves. I follow suite, peering out of the hatchway as it opens to try and get a view of my surroundings.

  I barely get a glance before troops file out. I can at least tell we must have landed somewhere near Lord Aeron, for he’s the one the captain serves.

  Even thinking of that infuriates me. Captain Arnold should pledge his allegiance to the good of Independence, as a leader of our defensive forces. Instead, he’s spurned that duty in exchange for the coin and favors of the corrupt Lord Aeron.

  I’m still considering this as I follow the sound of the booted feet echoing against the steel of the ship. I follow the troops as we leave the jarring confines of the transport.

  I tread carefully – wincing as I take each step, ready to feel the crunch of the precious vial of liquid Mercy breaking in my sock. It’s a reckless move to steal it – but against huge, powerful soldiers, my best weapon will be surprise and subterfuge.

  I step out of the claustrophobic heli-ship and find myself stepping into the most ostentatious display of luxury I could have ever imagined.

  The view that greets me is nothing like the poverty-stricken streets of Barl. A vast estate looms ahead – with lush, green vines wrapped around towering trellises, all lining a hand-laid cobblestone pathway towards the gorgeous house.

  I say house, but the mansion ahead of me is far larger than an entire apartment low-rise back in Barl. It’s more of a castle than a house - like something out of the foolish fairy-tales my father would read me as a little girl.

  Stacy, Tod, Tyler and Runner are herded forward in front of me.

  “Where are you taking them?” I demand, snapping at Captain Arnold.

  “They’ll be taken to the medical bay for examination. Lord Aeron’s wives have many children, and they’ll be allowed to play with them once the children are sufficiently vetted.”

  Arnold’s eyes narrow, as he glances at the med-kit satchel I have hanging over my shoulder.

  “That’s an impressive medical kit you have there, Tammy. It’s of the type not often seen outside of the Capital.”

  I feel a knot of panic, as I remember that it’s stolen from the Capital’s own hospital.

  Yet, Arnold seems unconcerned. Instead, he boasts: “It still can’t possibly compare to the medical services we have here.”

  I swallow hard, wondering if he knows the contents of the kit were stolen. Even worse – maybe he’s testing me. Does he know that there was supposed to be a vial of liquid Mercy in this kit? Could he possibly suspect my plan?

  If he searches the kit and asks why the vial of Mercy is missing, I’ll have to come up with some kind of story – maybe a sad tale of how I had to use it in Barl on a poor, dying street kid. He’ll be fooled. He has to be.

  I worry about the four orphans’ distrust of doctors and authority figures. If they’re taken to be ‘examined’ then the experience is going to be frightening and painful for them. But I remind myself that I have to trust that the children can handle it.

  Back in Barl, there were never enough doctors. The ones that did practice mostly tended to the richer segments of Barl society; rather than slum it treating patients from the fringes of the city.

  To the likes of them, people like me were the closest they’d come to a medical professional.

  I pull my med-kit satchel a little closer around me.

  Y
ou should be happy, Tammy. This is what you wanted for the orphans: A better life. They’ll get that here, in the Capital.

  But then I check myself.

  How can I let them grow up amidst all this corruption? How can I let them grow in such a den of sin?

  There are so many things whirling through my mind that it is impossible to concentrate on all of them. Instead, I look behind me and see the cargo bay of the heli-ship open. I watch with a knot in my stomach as Forn, Hadone, and Darok are roughly pulled out. Their weapons are held, deactivated, by soldiers nearby, while the three Aurelians are cuffed and marched forward.

  “Lord Aeron is a man of means,” Captain Arnold’s voice interrupts me. He’s just stepped up alongside. “He could make your life very good.”

  I know there’s an unspoken end to that sentence without even hearing it.

  Lord Aeron can make your life very good…

  …or he can make it very bad, and very short.

  I try not to look too closely at the three Aurelians as I walk up the cobblestone pathway towards the immense house, with Captain Arnold ever-present as my shadow.

  The burly man is not young. He’s seen decades of battle, and I know that breeds a certain pragmatism which has shape the decisions he’s made in his life. Namely, how his loyalty is to Lord Aeron, and not to the government of the Capital.

  If Lord Aeron commands such loyalty among soldiers like Captain Arnold, all the rumors and gossip are true. He truly is the true power behind the throne.

  The Aurelians may be restrained, but Captain Arnold is taking no risks. He has ten men aiming the scopes of their rifles right at the alien’s backs. One pull of those triggers and the lives of the three Aurelians will instantly be over. I barely known them, and yet I already know that the loss of those huge, honorable warrior-aliens would tear my fragile heart into pieces.

  The Aurelians came to my city from Gods-know-where, and they’re the only reason the orphans and I escaped Barl alive – instead of being torn asunder by Scorp claws or broiled alive by the Capital’s napalm.

  I will get them out alive – no matter what the cost.

  13

  Forn

  My wounds are more severe than I thought. I heard nothing, not even a footstep, before we were ambushed in our makeshift shelter. I was trussed up and thrown onto the ground before I’d even gathered the wherewithal to fight.

  “It’s my fault. I allowed the small one, Runner, to get out of my sight.” It’s Darok, speaking telepathically through our Bond.

  There’s no space in our heads for blame, though. I am in war-mode – a deep, meditative state in which I’m focused on everything and nothing, both at the same time. My fingers itch to rip the throats out of these men who arrogantly presume they can hold me. Despite my weakened state, if I had access to my blades, I know I’d make short work of the entire army – slaughtering these pathetic excuses for soldiers.

  They have the arrogance to imprison me? Look at them! They’re all unblooded. Not a single one of them has ever faced a Scorp and lived – and their only weapons are the cowardly long-distance devices that nearly killed me in the city we’d escaped.

  There’s a tinge of suspicion in Darok’s aura. He long-suspected that Tammy was some cruel trick - a Void-Being sent to lure us to our deaths.

  “Tammy did not do this to us,” I telepath to him, and he nods almost imperceptibly. The small one, Runner, has a deep hatred for our kind. I know not why – but it doesn’t matter. Not anymore.

  Plans change when battle starts. We came to this world knowing that our Orb-God had sent us for a purpose. I still believe that, deep in my bones. I will take this Tammy back to our planet, and I will make her bear my seed. She is strong – a fighter, with a quick mind. The merging of our beings will create something greater than ourselves.

  One day, I’ll play with my sons. I’ll teach them to hunt, to fish, and to fight. I’ll be there through their whole journey – giving them guidance up to and beyond the day when they forge their first Orb-Weapons.

  And I’ll witness, too, the day they earn their first ink; and sadly I’ll no doubt bury some of my sons who do not survive in battle, as they fight to earn their own mates. There is glory in my future…

  …but first, I must earn it.

  I force back a growl. I don’t want to alert the weak creatures that are guarding me to my strength and power. It rankles to be kept captive by such weak beings. The Scorp-blood within my veins pulses. I can barely hold myself back from leaping and kicking out; crushing the skulls of the men closest to me and throwing the rest aside like they were mewling children.

  “Easy, Forn, easy.” It’s the voice of Hadone in my mind. I take a huge breath in. I will not waste my life so easily. It would bring no glory to die at the hands of these pathetic creatures – not now that I have everything to live for.

  The human soldiers bring us up the pathway to a house so big that it could shelter my entire tribe in comfort, with plenty of room left over. The sheer opulence of the place is an affront to my senses. No man needs so much. To take so much for yourself, while others starve to death on this world, is a sign of great arrogance.

  We let the puny humans manhandle us towards the back of the building. They are puny – but I know these men are not to be underestimated. They are soldiers, after all, and some of them could still put up a fight; especially with those projectile weapons they each carry.

  As we pass through the building, I see servants working in the yards, spraying huge sums of water on the forests of bushes and trees, perfectly manicured and unnaturally twisted into shapes and designs. I’ve never seen anything like it before – the arrogance of man, to try the shape nature itself into his desire!

  Sweat drips from my brow from the hot sun. The water being poured onto the greenery outside could be used instead to sate the thirst of a thousand humans. How many thirsted in Tammy’s village? The village burnt to nothing by those flying dragons?

  I fought and killed countless Scorp in the huge, tribal city where Tammy lived. The people here are different to the ones in that place. Here, the servants spare quick glances at us, and the horror and fear is apparent in their eyes before they turn their gaze away.

  Why do they loathe us so? I have done nothing to these people – and yet they hate me. Just like the small human child, Runner, who betrayed us the first moment he could.

  “They will hate us until the day they die. They stare at us as though we’re as bad as the Scorp.” Darok telepaths his somber thoughts through our bond. I know he speaks the truth. If we’re to have any chance of escape, we won’t be able to rely on the humans of this planet – not even the servants and other underlings.

  We’re lead forward to a small trapdoor. A soldier throws it open and points angrily, grunting in his alien language. I have to duck to get through the opening, all while the soldiers point their long, deadly sticks at me. I know that they can shoot projectiles as powerful as a thousand arrows right through me. My chest still burns from the shot that the old man had pierced my chest with, when we’d stumbled in on him protecting his home back in Tammy’s village.

  That first man – the one who was friends with Tammy, and by now must be ashes and dust in that immolated city – was not even a warrior. He was old, fat, and untrained – and yet he still took me down with one blast of that cowardly weapon.

  There are at least ten of the same weapons pointed at me right now – more advanced, gleaming variants of the old man’s stick – so I have no choice. I must continue through this opening and down the stairs that follow.

  It is dank and cool as we descend. I clench my fists in frustration, knowing that in a fair fight – with or without Orb-Weapons – I could have killed all ten of these humans easily. Yet against those cowardly weapons? I’m not so sure – and with all that is at stake, I cannot take the risk.

  I hear a drip of water as we’re marched down a corridor at the bottom of the stairs.

  More guards await us ther
e. They take a step back involuntarily as they see the three of us approach – and I suppose I cannot blame them. We tower over the humans, and each of my triad is wide as two or even three of them.

  After a moment, though, the humans find their courage – or at least the pretense of it. They swell their chests and look at us as if pretending we had not already witnessed the fear in their eyes.

  These humans have daggers at their belts and smaller weapons in their hands. They looks just like miniature versions of the same weapons the soldiers carry. I imagine they must be variants for more close-quarter encounters; and pack a punch less violent than their longer versions, but no less deadly.

  In these close quarters, we could do incredible damage to these humans, even with our hands still cuffed. I’d watched the soldiers who took our weapons go through the front doors of the mansion. If I had just one of my Orb-Daggers, I could cut our warrior triad free and unleash living hell on these cowardly men.

  The soldiers murmur with the guards in their foreign language. They talk loudly. I know their type – the blustering kind of coward who is gripped by fear, yet tries to hide it behind loud noises and boastful words.

  They manage to hide nothing. In fact, I can see more clearly than even they can. None of these humans know how close they could be to death if I, or Hadone or Darok, willed it so.

  It’s so tempting. I know that I could leap, and kick, and crush windpipes and snap necks even with my hands cuffed. Just as we are right now, I might get out alive...

  …but then what?

  Where would I lead my triad then? This culture has resources. They have some sort of flying beast, that moves them like the dragons that used to haunt my home planet. They have weapons that can kill you from afar.

  We might escape right now – but I would be leading my battle-brothers into a hostile world that I do not know; and every step we take would lead us further away from the woman that I must protect.

  “We wait. We wait for our chance,” I telepath, and instantly Darok and Hadone uncoil their muscles. They were just as ready to strike as I was, and had been waiting for the signal to turn these cramped quarters into a bloodbath.