Antarctica, 2004
The yautja mothership rises slowly into the air. Lex watches the alien vessel until it is no more than a streak in the heavens. With a disheartened sigh, she turns to the idling snowplow several meters away and heads in that direction. So much loss. So many dead. Even poor Weyland.
Lex catches herself referring to the late Charles Weyland in a much too familiar tone and a wistful smile touches her lips. The old company man had had a heart after all. Who knew?
Lex''s mind returns to the strange alien warrior. The being who had risked his life to save her, and who''d helped her escape the death pyramid in one piece. Only to be killed so suddenly after their assumed victory. Everyone, everything, all gone.
Lex touches the acid burn on her cheek and is surprised when her fingers come away wet. Tears. Of course there are tears. Climbing aboard the snowplow, Lex wrenches the radio mic free and hollers into it.
“Piper Maru.…Piper Maru….This is Weyland Expedition Six. Do you read me, Piper Maru? Over.”
After a few more attempts at communication, a male voice—garbled by static—finally breaks through.
“Weyland Expedition….This is Piper Maru. We read you. What is your status? Over.”
Relief washes over Lex and she exhales loudly. Taking a moment to collect herself, Lex pushes back the emotion welling up in her chest. A voice. Another human. Rescue.
“Piper Maru…This is Alexa Woods. The status of our mission is critical. Everyone else is dead. Over.”
“Repeat that, Ms. Woods. Did you say….Everyone is dead? Come on back. Over.”
“Yes. You heard me right! Everyone else is dead. Including Mr. Weyland. I barely made it back from the pyramid. I need an emergency evac….Yesterday. Over.”
Silence. And then.
“Ten-Four. Hang tight, Ms. Woods. We are triangulating your coordinates as we speak. We’ll have evac to your location A-S-A-P! Over!”
Lex exhales sharply and drops the mic unceremoniously. Leaning against the seat back of the large snowplow, Lex allows her eyes to flutter shut for the first time in days.
She isn’t asleep for long. Climbing out of the massive snowplow, Lex makes her way toward the decimated water tower. She searches the ground with an intense urgency. She finally finds what she is looking for more than three meters away—nearly buried in powdery snow. Kneeling on the frozen ground, Lex reaches for Scar’s broken combistick. Any remnant of the massive black creature''s acidic blood has been washed away by the surrounding snow. Even so, Lex is very cautious, picking up the implement with two fingers. She stares at the metal object for what seems like an eternity.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“He died…He died trying to save me,” Lex states in a solemn voice. “Why did I do that? Why? We were so close. We almost had her. This staff was supposed to be his. It should be his. I—I can''t believe this!”
Lowering her face into her hands, Lex cries like she hasn’t cried in years. Visions of everyone she has lost swirl in her mind. First, her father—taken in the prime of his life, doing what he loved most in this world. Max, Sebastian, Weyland, Miller, and now the alien warrior. Why did the universe choose her to be the lone survivor of this frozen hell?
Eventually managing to retract what remains of Scar’s combistick, Lex places it inside the back of her waistband. She holds out the much larger staff and extends it to its full length.
“Why didn’t you kill me? Why did you help me? I don’t understand. That wasn’t part of the game. Why didn''t you stick to the rules?”
Retracting the ceremonial hunt staff, Lex inhales sharply. She spins on her heels and makes her way back to the snowplow. The entire walk back, she rehearses what she will say to investigators. The bare minimum. There were no aliens. No ships. Only strange creatures doing battle in the pyramid’s depths.
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Aboard the yautja mothership
Scar’s prone body is placed respectfully on an altar situated before a massive viewport. The four yautja servants who carried his body aboard nod at two fellow guards and exit the room. The two guards remain behind. The larger of the two yautja guards presses a triangular button on the wall and a large conical structure drops slowly from the ceiling. Hovering above Scar, the conical device scans Scar’s unmoving corpse. An alarm sounds and a holographic projection appears in the air. The hologram is a display of the serpent queen growing rapidly in Scar’ chest cavity. Growing, but not yet fully mature.
Faster than the eye can see a circular apparatus descends from the center of the conical scanning device and punches a round hole straight through the fallen warrior’s body—large enough to scoop out the serpent queen and the surrounding tissue she is leeching sustenance from. The apparatus ascends back into the conical device with its captured prize. This queen will serve the clan on another hunt world. As for the warrior’s now mangled body. It will cease to be.
A light mist issues from tiny holes on the conical device hovering over Scar’s body. Slowly, the hunter''s body is reduced to something akin to protoplasm. The metal armor, the fallen warrior once wore, is all that remains. The liquid left behind flows into two tiny gutters, on either side of the altar, and drains into a thin pipe trailing underneath the altar’s platform. Yautja scientists are waiting below to study the runoff. Not many warriors can take on a serpent queen alone. Despite his tragic death, this yautja was truly legendary.
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A lone yautja enters the chamber. He watches as the bloody liquid which was once Scar flows through to the drains below. Scorvo’s eyes flash and his mandibles open and shut in agitation.
“How can this be?” the warrior shrieks in his mind. “How can Scar be dead? And all because of an ooman female? Surely, there is more to it than that?”
When the last of Scar has slid into the drain, Scorvo whirls on his heels.
“This cannot be!” he hisses aloud.