by Corin Cain
I could have upgraded my fresh water generator – making it so we could have spring-fresh water whenever we wanted, even in the depths of space. We could have showered, even! We could have had all the water in the world…
But now it’s gone. My hopes, my vessel, and even Adam and Jenson.
I feel a tiny surge of loss for them. I know I’ll never see them again. They’ll be shipped out to some god-forsaken asteroid and worked to the bone. I hope they’ll at least be given enough water to survive as they toil in the mines, constantly sweating moisture from their muscles. I know in some parts of the galaxy, the cost of replacing human slaves is viewed as cheaper than keeping them properly fed and watered.
No, their fates will be grim. But I barely have the energy to feel grief for my shipmates. All I feel is dry – so dry.
I torture myself with thoughts of water. At first, during the moments I slept, I’d dream of luscious lakes – of streams of fresh, bubbling water. Later, the longer I was locked in this cell, my thirst grew so strong my fevered dreams were of tepid, dirty puddles – although I longed to drink from them no less strongly.
Then, suddenly, there’s a clank.
The door opens and I’m blinded by the light that pours in.
The silhouette of a pirate is framed in the doorway, surrounded by the brightness of the outside world.
“Not too sassy now, are we?” It’s the leader of the pirate-slavers – the Captain. His voice is tinged with cruelty.
Defiantly, I try to stand – but almost instantly I fall to the floor. I wish I was just feigning weakness to escape, or overpower him later… But the grim truth is that I’m weak as a kitten.
“Water…” I croak. The Captain peers down at me. I can’t read his face. It’s just a blur against the light.
“Water. Ah, yes. Water. You never realize how badly you want it until you don’t have it, do you? Slave.”
He adds that last word as a designation – reminding me of what I am to him now.
The Captain laughs.
“How thirsty are you, now? If I spat, would you drink it?”
I shudder. He laughs cruelly, and for a moment I’m terrified he’ll do just that – and I’m not sure I lack the strength not to crawl across the metal floor and lick his saliva from the floor, so desperate I am for moisture.
But then, in an act of mercy, the captain pulls a packet of water from his pocket and tosses it across to me. It flops wetly on the floor, sloshing, and I pounce on it with newfound strength. My hands shake as I tear open the top and slurp down a merciful mouthful.
The liquid on my tortured throat feels better than anything I’ve felt before. I get two slurps down when the slaver snatches the still-sloshing package from my weakened hands.
“Not too much. Just enough so you can walk.”
Before I can resist, a collar is put around my neck. It clicks tightly in place. I try to grab at it, but it feels as though it’s melded to my skin – I can’t even get my fingernails into the crack between the slick metal and my flesh.
A long chain with heavy links is attached to the collar, and the captain holds the end of it curled around his hand. He doesn’t have a slaver’s bracelet – the traditional clasp holding the end of the chain. Instead, the captain chooses to hold onto the links with his big, firm fist.
“Keep up, or I’ll fucking drag you.” The captain speaks with brutal menace. There’s an edge to his voice that makes me suspect he’d enjoy pulling me through the halls, dragging me by the collar around my throat.
He yanks the chains and I clamber unsteadily to my feet. The ship is a blur as he leads me through the corridors, until we reach a huge doorway. As it slides open, I realize we’ve landed – we’re down on the ground. This huge doorway is one of the exits from the mining hulk, and it opens onto some forsaken loading dock, far away from the legitimate shipping hubs of Titus. The dock is located in a dark, rusting warehouse where the only sign of life is the clunking, shambling and thuds of huge mechs – unloading the ill-gotten cargo stolen by these pirates.
The captain looks down at me and nods, as if reading my mind.
“Ore? That’s easy to sell on the black market on Titus. We unload it here, but once we mix it up with ore acquired through more… legitimate channels… Well, there’s no telling the difference.”
He looks me up and down hungrily.
“Slaves, on the other hand? Risky. I wouldn’t normally try to unload any of them on Titus. Only a pretty virgin like you is worth the risk – and only now that Xeres is here on Titus.”
I gasp. The slave captain’s grin widens.
“Ah, I see you know the name! Yes, Xeres – Mr. X himself – is going to pay a pretty penny for you. Then you’ll be off my hands. He’s the one who’s going to sell you to the highest bidder.”
If I wasn’t so exhausted and weak, I’d be quaking.
I’ve heard of Mr. X. Everybody has.
There are only two names that fill me with fear on Titus – both belonging to infamous rogue Aurelians. There’s Korgath, the brutal crime lord who takes a cut from every shipment of ore sold on Titus, and Xeres – more often known as Mr. X – a callous slave trader. Xeres is new on Titus, and I have no idea why Korgath hasn’t crushed him yet – like every other crime lord that tried to muscle in on his territory in the centuries he’s dominated here.
Maybe even Korgath fears Xeres.
The captain yanks me from the loading dock and down another hallway, into a small room that practically resembles a jail cell.
It’s made even smaller by the Aurelian that’s looming there.
I gasp. This Aurelian is just under seven-feet-tall, and slimmer than most I’ve seen. Admittedly, I’ve only ever seen Aurelians from afar, but they usually have thicker, bulkier muscles and a haughty gaze that makes you feel like they consider you no more important than the dirt beneath their feet.
They’re usually noble and law abiding, too.
But the slim Aurelian in front of me is clearly not like most Aurelians. For a start, this one has grown rich off the slave trade – the most abhorred practice in the universe and strictly forbidden across the Aurelian Empire.
Damned Aurelians. Right now, I don’t know which would pose more danger to a fugitive like me – the cold, emotionless, law-abiding Aurelians who’d bring me to their heartless version of justice, or Aurelians like this one – who’ve shunned the conventions of law, and would break one of their most sacred cultural rules just to sell me like chattel.
Right now, I’m think I’d be better off being tried and found guilty by an Aurelian court, rather than face being sold into slavery by some unsavory character willing to betray the values of his people.
The Aurelian looming before me is dressed in a sharp suit, tailored to his gaunt frame. Back on their home world, Aurelians dress as if they’re Romans from the ancient times on Earth – wearing long, comfortable robes and togas.
Out in the wild, though – especially in these, more lawless parts of the universe – they tend to mimic the style of humans. It’s as if they’re trying to blend in, despite the very nature of their towering frame and beautiful physique meaning they’re cursed to always stand out.
The marble skin of the Aurelian before me is taut around the bones of his face. He looks malnourished. Worried. He also looks at me like I’m an object, not a living creature.
I get the horrible feeling that this Aurelian is weighing my value – as if I mean no more to him than a lump of precious metal. I instantly think of this unusual Aurelian as an accountant; one who judges and weighs people as if they’re commodities.
“As promised, this one’s untouched. A virgin.” It’s the slave captain, a tinge of nervousness in his voice. It’s hard not to be nervous around Aurelians. They move a little too quickly, stare a little too blankly, and kill a little too easily. It’s the cold, slate eyes that really chill me. There’s no emotion to them - like these living statues are more computer than organic being.
&
nbsp; The Aurelian slowly turns his head to study the captain. “Have you confirmed this?”
“I… no…”
The Aurelian nods. He leans in towards me, and then sniffs. His nostrils flare, and he takes in a huge lungful of my scent through his nose. I shudder as I realize what this Aurelian doing. He’s smelling me.
Do human virgins have a different scent to these alien bastards?
The Aurelian releases the air from his lungs, and then looks down at me without blinking. “She is a virgin. I can smell it.” He nods at the captain. “The agreed-upon price has been credited to your account. That will be all.”
And, just like that, I’m sold.
The Aurelian dismisses the slave captain. The moment the transaction is finished, my captor slinks off, like a scolded puppy. I guess he’s happy to be so handsomely paid, but happier still to have remained alive.
We’re alone in the cell. The Aurelian looks me up and down, as if dissecting me with his eyes. I shudder at his gaze.
Finally, he nods.
“You are hungry, and thirsty, little one. This ordeal has made you weak. That makes disobeying me even more foolish than it would have been otherwise. If you try to escape, you will not get away - and you will be punished. Do you understand?”
I nod. “I understand.”
Punished. It won’t be a sexy little spanking, not with this emotionless bastard. He’ll hurt me if I try to run. Still, if I can seize a good opportunity, it might be the last chance I get…
The realization hits me quickly – he’s right. Even in peak shape, with a full belly and water in my veins, I couldn’t outrun this beast. I’ll have to get extremely lucky to get an opportunity to get away.
But I’ll take it…
As if giving a demonstration of the futility in resisting him, the Aurelian suddenly lurches forward. His hands move too quickly – scarily quickly. He’s noticeably, infinitely faster than a human. Somehow, he unclips the collar from my neck before I can even raise my hands up.
The chains fall to the ground.
The collar might be gone, but I don’t feel any closer to freedom.
“I’ve been told you killed two men,” the Aurelian growls. I look up proudly, defiance flaring in my eyes. I meet the Aurelian’s cold gaze and nod. I don’t care if it’s strategically stupid to confirm what he thinks – I want him to know I’m not just some chattel to be bought or sold.
The Aurelian pulls a new collar from his jacket pocket. This one is pure obsidian, with the tiniest glimmer of a darkness – darker than black – glimmering across the surface.
I shudder. The collar is made from the shard of an Orb. Orbs are the most powerful thing in the universe – a mysterious material providing almost unlimited power. Half an orb could power a good-sized starship for eternity. This shard?
It will be more than enough to control me – to control a creature ten times my size.
I hold up my hands to stop the Aurelian from clasping the Orb-Collar around my neck, but he effortlessly brushes my hands aside.
It’s then that I understand how truly strong Aurelians are.
I could have no more prevented him brushing my hands aside as I could have stopped an avalanche. He’s infinitely stronger than I am.
This one is gaunt and thin by Aurelian standards – but even then, trying to stop him from wrapping the collar around my neck is as futile as trying to stop the flow of time. With an effortless click, the collar wraps around my neck, and then I realize how truly trapped I am.
“You know what an Orb is?” The Aurelian looked down at me as if I was a child.
I nod slowly, wishing I could rip the collar from my neck. The Orb sickens me.
“Good,” the Aurelian nods. “So you understand that if you disobey me, the collar will cause you extreme pain. I’m not one to cause unnecessary pain, and you seem quite clever for a human, so if you pledge to obey me until you’re sold to your new master at the auction house, I believe we can dispense with a demonstration of the collar’s power.”
I should be grateful for such a small mercy. Unlike the pirate slaver who captured me, at least this Aurelian doesn’t delight in pain. He’s simply an accountant, weighing and judging my actions, considering the risks. It’s as if he knows my decisions before I do.
I gulp. My pride tells me to spit at him.
My pride tells me to throw a punch, even if it will feel harder and more futile than when I was punching the bare, steel door of my cell on that mining ship.
Thankfully, my mind wins over my pride. I know that with just a thought the Aurelian can transmit unfathomable pain through the Orb-Collar, so I need to start making smart decisions.
Like admitting that I’m trapped.
And I know it.
“I will obey you,” I murmur reluctantly. “And when you… You sell me… I will obey my master.”
“Good girl. Here you are.” The Aurelian reaches into his pocket for a flask. He opens it and hands it to me. I lift the canteen to my lips and drink greedily, not caring how pathetic I look in my eagerness.
There’s no point in pretext. Shame is nothing compared to the taste of fresh water on my parched throat. I drain the cool, delicious water down my gullet and eventually hand the empty flask back.
The Aurelian snaps his fingers.
“Follow me.”
He leads me back out into the warehouse and landing dock. Across from the mining hulk that brought me here is a much smaller ship – suitable for planetary flying. It’s much smaller than my own ship, and I doubt it could even punch out of the atmosphere…
…or, at least, I do until the Aurelian leads me into the cramped cockpit and clamps shut the hatch after us. He guns the engines, and I hear the familiar hum of an Orb-Engine. That could take even this small ship high into the atmosphere, and beyond.
I should have remembered that this alien works for Mr. X, one of the richest crime lords in all the galaxies. This nondescript little ship could probably outrun, outgun and definitely outperform my beloved mining vessel. In fact, it probably cost more than I’d have ever made mining those asteroid fields, even in a lifetime.
The Aurelian pilots the ship across the capital city of Titus and beyond. Soon, he switches the thrusters to descent mode, and we settle down in a luscious field outside a stately manor house. There’s space in this field for at least twenty other ships just like the one the Aurelian pilots – but that’s nothing, compared to the home that overlooks it.
As we clamber from the cramped little ship, I look up and can scarcely believe the scope of the manor looming above me. It’s obviously made for an Aurelian – the sheer scale and size of it would dwarf any human or Toad.
The Aurelian walks me to the back doors, which loom above my head. Behind them are long, towering hallways. I’m lead down them, and pass by rows of beautiful sculptures and enormous paintings until we finally reach an unusually small room at the end of one of the long corridors.
The room is cell-like - sparsely decorated, with just a bench in front of a mirror in way of furnishings. Powders, brushes and beauty supplies are laid out across it.
The Aurelian looks down at me, and utters a single order:
“Undress.”
When the Aurelian is satisfied with the condition of his newest possession, he leaves. I face my new reality. Just days ago, I was free. Free to roam the dangerous asteroid fields. Free to live and die by my own will.
Now, I’m in a tiny cell, with an Orb-Collar around my neck, waiting to be primped and preened to show me off to the richest, most powerful members of Titus society.
At least the Aurelian isn’t as heartless as the pirate slavers who captured me. He’s laid out water on the table in front of bench, along with a food bar.
I open the bar greedily, and eat the plain, tasteless nutrition bar in four bites. It’s dry in my mouth, and it takes effort to swallow, but it calms the pain in my belly.
Food gone, there’s nothing to do but wait.
; Fortunately, I don’t have to wait long. The door of my little cell opens and a stunning blonde enters.
I gasp, she’s so beautiful. This woman could be on the cover of e-mags. She could be the star of holographic films. Everything about her is perfect, from her curled lashes to each strand of that beautiful honey blonde hair. A faint, subtle perfume wafts from her hair, floral and designed to entice.
But if I’m studying her, this beauty is studying me twice as hard. She looks me up and down, appraising every naked inch of me, and then finally steps forward and reaches for my face.
Her eyes on me make me want to die of shame. I can’t take it.
It takes every effort in my body not to slap her hand away as she reaches for my face, but I know the consequences if I do. Grimly, I let her touch my cheekbone – her touch light as she runs her fingertip down my jawline.
“You’ve had some work done. Not for cosmetic reasons, though… But you did, didn’t you? Changed your face – just ever so slightly.”
I’m reminded of the back-alley skin doctor from so long ago – my first stop after narrowly evading the Aurelian Law Officers. I was fortunate. Instead of butchering my face, he managed to subtly change my features in a way that still retained my original facial characteristics.
Am I so see-through, though? How did she notice? No one has ever spotted it before!
The blonde shrugs.
“Answer me, or don’t. It makes no difference either way. The only truth I need is self-evident: You’re a rare beauty. Unpolished, yes – an unfinished gem. Untrained, too. Yes, so untrained – and I can see in your eyes that you’re a wild one. Whoever buys you will be in for a challenge. They’ll find you hard to break.” Her lips curl. “Oh, but it will be so worth it once they do. Now, stay still, my sweet – as I enhance you.”
I almost snort. A complement from this bombshell is a joke. This stunning blonde has probably been pursued relentlessly ever since she was a teenager – and not just by men. I’m sure no shortage of Aurelians looked at her, eager to add her to their harems.
