Page 20 of Protected by the Alien Warrior Triad

The short-haired Aurelian, Forn, comes closer to me when he hears Edgar’s harsh tone. He stands protectively a foot in front of me, ready to put his body between Edgar and myself.

Would he stand between us if Edgar, for some reason, pointed that weapon at me?

The alien might tower over me and be covered in intricate, primitive-looking tattoos – tattoos thatglowedas green as Scorp-venom – but somehow his brutality doesn’t scare me.

Forn makes me feel safe – and while I’ve never relied on anyone in my years in Barl, if I want to get out of here alive, I’m going to have to trust these alien warriors.

We don’t have time to argue any more.

Scorp Warriors have infested this city, chasing down easy targets. I fear for the two orphans out there in the wild. I have to save them, and fast.

At least I know Tyler and Runner are quick, making their living as pickpockets. You have to be fast on your feet when getting caught means a beating. But against a nine-feet-tall Scorp warrior? I shudder, trying not to think of what could have already happened to them.

Please, Gods… Please let them be okay.

“Stacy, Tod, you’re coming with me.”

At six-years-old, they’re only fourteen years my junior; but they still look to me like I have all the answers. I remember how grown up even teenagers used to seem to me back when I was their age. If only I knew then how scared I’d feel when I was the “grown up”. Some days, I wish I could be a kid again – back in the days before the Scorp took my family...

Back when I had a future.

No! I didn’t lose my future. I’ll always take care of people, no matter where I am.

I pull the two children close, hugging them even as I tell myself there’s no time for it. The angry alien, Hadone, strides to the door with his huge war-hammer dangling in his hands.

He’s a truly fearsome warrior. His sweeping attack can obliterate a half-dozen Scorp at a time – sweeping them aside and crushing them like eggshells. I see that in the hilt of his weapon is a shard of Orb; which clearly powers that devastating hammer.

I’d heard of Orb-Weapons before. Crafted from that rare, valuable substance – the one that powers interstellar travel itself – the weapons are worth a fortune to the likes of Edgar and myself; yet are granted to each and every Aurelian upon reaching age.

I’d heard about them, sure – yet now I’ve seen Orb-Weapons in action, I know that none of the legends compare to the real thing. These weapons seemalive.They hum, trickles of electricity arcing out from their blacker-than-black blades. The hammer head of Hadone’s weapon, radiating an otherwordly, blueish light, seems to bethirstingfor Scorp blood.

I have that same thirst.

Forn limps behind me. He holds his two curved Orb-Daggers easily, as if he were born clutching them in his huge hands.

Despite having been rescued by a member of his triad, Stacy and Tod quiver as Forn gets close; intimidated by his looming size.

“He’s a friend,” I reassure them. “Okay?”

“He’s anAurelian,” hisses Tod, saying the word like a curse. Hate is taught at a very young age on this planet – but in just the last few minutes alone, I’ve come to wonder if everything I thought I’d known about Aurelians is wrong.

Do they truly look down on humans? Do they truly think of us as weak and foolish?

If they do, I’m going to prove them wrong today.

I’m going to get us all out of this city. I’m going to get us all to safety.All of us– even the Aurelian with the scar on his cheek, who can’t seem to even look at me.

I wish these aliens could speak the common tongue. I’d thought Aurelians could – but clearly these arenotthe same haughty, overly-civilized Aurelians we knew of here on Independence – the ones whose Empire we’d fought to be free of.

No, these were a different breed of Aurelian – literally – and that was why it was even more of a handicap not to be able to communicate with them.

In a fight, even a second of hesitation or miscommunication could end my life – not to mention the chances of my orphans making it out of the city alive.

The unnamed Aurelian – the one with the scar on his cheek – takes position at the rear of the group as we prepare to leave. With him standing behind us, I feel more secure. He might barely be able to look at me, but this Aurelian scooped up Stacy and Tod without even knowing the two street brats, so I know he has a good heart.

Now, he has our back.

I turn and try one last plea at the gruff old man.

---