Page 70 of Claimed by the Alien Warrior Triad

Haleon breathes in sharply. “But they hate us, Stryker. They’ll never accept us in their lush lands.”

I shake my head. “We are the dragon slayers, now. We’ll see if they make an exception for us. I have a suspicion they will.”

Brigg snorts, rubbing his hand against his wound, pushing in a new compound of mushroom paste to heal himself. “They are not even Scorp-Blooded.”

Aubrey looks at me, confused. “I thought the Scorp-Blood is what allows you to bear children?”

I nod. “For our tribe, it does. The tribesman of the southern valley believe that our Scorp-Blood markings makes an Aurelian too violent. They drink a brew, instead - laced with Scorp-Venom – before their mating ceremony.”

The issue of breeding – of fathering heirs to continue our heritage – is one that has long plagued the Aurelian people. Each community that we encounter has different practices and beliefs. We have learned that Scorp-venom, properly ingested, can allow an Aurelian to father children with any human female.

In other Aurelian cultures, some say only the leaders of the community can grant that honor, or that an Aurelian must find a destined mate – one woman out of a billion who shares a Bond with them and their triad – to sire a child the natural way.

I know little of such things – only that the path we have trod to earn the right of fatherhood has been a long and dangerous one.

We have the sacrifice the Orb-God demanded.

Tomorrow, we shall accept our reward.

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28

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Aubrey

Ican’t believe that we defeated the dragon. I trusted in my triad, but not a one of us thought we would survive.

Together, we worked to take it down. I felt horror grip me when the crippled beast grabbed Brigg in its huge jaws, but my aim was steady as I shot those last eight bullets in quick succession – just as I’d been trained to back on Earth.

My gun was now useless – a hunk of metal, as my triad had described it. I cared little. It was incongruous here – such a human weapon in such a wild world.

Instead, I watched the three Aurelians use their own Orb-Weapons to cleave the head from the dragon, and then drag their bloody prize back to the cave we’d once shared; thirty years ago, when I first arrived on this world.

We rested, and the following morning the triad felled a tree, using the wood to craft a makeshift sled for the dragon’s head to be pulled on back to their jungle home.

We were so close now – and beyond returning home, the promise of a softer, valley land filled with fruits and respectful Aurelians had been offered as a further reward.

I knew that bearing children with the Scorp-blooded Aurelians would give us strong sons, but I was still worried that they’d be vicious and angry – a product of being raised in a dangerous, jungle environment.

A softer life would contrast with their innate potential for violence. It would temper all the strengths my beloved triad would teach our sons about violence, honor, and strength.

We reach the jungle, and trek down toward the caverns of the Scorp-Blood tribe. Horns sound as we enter.

The guards meet us outside of the jungle. Ripper’s jaw drops when he sees us, and for a moment he looks like he’ll confront us yet again.

I wonder what Ripper will say, but he stands mute, staring at us. I imagine he can’t believe that we really have the head of the dragon that has plagued the tribe for so many decades. There’s nothing he can do. The tribe comes out into the jungle, hushed as we approach. Not a word is said.

For a moment, we don’t know if he’ll respond with anger, violence or jealousy – our victory highlighting his insecurity…

…but eventually, Ripper spreads his arms wide.

“You areheroes!”

His tribe roars out in admiration behind him. Children and women pour from the safety of the caverns, and begin to dance and play under the watchful eyes of their mothers.

The air is filled with jubilation – although the guards are still tense, and watchful for jungle cats and other predators.

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