Aurelian Prisoner

by Corin Cain

  I can’t really blame the poor drunk. It’s not every day you see three, huge alien warriors burst through a doorway, one of them carrying a half-naked, kicking and screaming girl across his shoulder.

  The drunk isn’t the first person I’d have appealed to – but I don’t exactly have the luxury of choice right now.

  “Get help!” I scream at him – but the homeless man just looks at me blankly.

  Shit. That means – just like it’s been for my whole life - the only person who’s going to help me…

  …is me.

  Yep – it’s the same story as it’s been for my whole fucking life. Still, I’m not about to stop now.

  “Put me down!” I kick and scream. “Dammit, put me down!”

  The sharp crack of a hand against my ass is a humiliating reminder that these three Aurelians are in control. I’m helpless in Kitos’ grasp as the three of them jog down the alleyway at a controlled pace, then make a quick right turn out into the main street.

  Out amidst the crowd, Kitos reluctantly puts me down – but he keeps his hand firmly on the small of my back, forcing me forward.

  “You make one more attempt to escape,” the Aurelians warns, “and you’ll be going right back over my shoulder.”

  I snarl at him – but obey the inexorable pressure of his hand. It’s clear any attempt to escape will be punished – and potentially by more than just a smack on the ass.

  I’m not compliant for very long, though. In fact, the moment the pressure of his hand lightens up, I make a break for it – darting to the right, towards the marketplace where I know I can lose myself in the crowd.

  I barely get a step before Daccia reacts – his movements inhumanely fast. The towering Aurelian grabs me, and this time it’s his shoulder I’m thrown over.

  “You’re going to regret that,” Daccia warns, and I know exactly what happens when you disobey an Aurelian. Sometimes, I can still remember the sting on my bottom from my time spent in that harem.

  People are pointing and looking at us as the three Aurelians carry me down the street - but nobody makes a move to intercept them. I’m sure many people feel sympathy for me – a half-naked woman tossed across an Aurelian’s massive shoulder – but everyone knows that getting between an Aurelian and his woman is akin to suicide.

  As I’m bounced and bustled across Daccia’s shoulder, I struggle to look back – half-expecting to see Spur’s men in hot pursuit of his stolen employee...

  …but there’s no one there. Nobody’s coming to take me back.

  Spur’s leaving me to the Aurelians.

  Or so I think. Suddenly, three men do rush around the corner – cutting us off ahead.

  I’m not sure whether to be glad or terrified. The three men are wearing suits, and I recognize them as part of Spur’s security team. They’re carrying pistols and they pause as soon as they round the corner, trying to spot the three aliens who’ve kidnapped me.

  From my high vantage point, across Daccia’s shoulder, I can see the three humans clearly. They, too, must be able to see the huge Aurelian warriors wading through the crowd. Daccia, Kitos and Hadrian stand towering above regular humans…

  But as soon as Spur’s men do see us, they stagger back.

  Shit! They’re too cowardly to chase after these aliens! Even with guns, they’re terrified of the Aurelians.

  My heart sinks. Spur is not the sort of person I’d want to be indebted to – but now, even the scant salvation his men offered is gone. Nobody’s standing in the way of these three Aurelians. The crowd parts ahead of us, as everybody moves to avoid these three, huge aliens and their struggling prisoner.

  Wait! Maybe all hope isn’t lost…

  Spur’s three men might have been too cowardly to confront the Aurelians – but they’ve moved to higher ground. My eyes widen as the security team aims their pistols and peer down the sights – lining up their targets.

  Shit – from this range, those ‘targets’ include me!

  My scream is the only warning the Aurelians get before gunshots suddenly crack out.

  Bullets whizz through the air, shearing through market stalls and onlookers alike.

  Apparently, Spur’s security guards don’t care who they hit as long as they can try to stop these Aurelians. They’d rather risk killing innocent bystanders than get close enough to these Aurelians to risk their own lives.

  The brutish Aurelian behind us, Hadrian, suddenly grunts in pain. For a moment, he stumbles… and then regains his fast pace.

  In fact, the three aliens start sprinting faster – bulldozing their way through the crowd. Daccia bowls over a carpet salesman and his stall, sending the merchant’s wares flying all over the street as the crack-crack-crack of gunshots continue.

  The aliens take a sharp right, and we’re suddenly lumbering down another alleyway – temporarily safe from the gunfire. I struggle to look behind us, half-expecting to face down the barrel of a gun – but Spur’s security team don’t seem to be following us anymore.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. For a moment, I’d hoped Spur’s men would rescue me – but the moment they’d started shooting indiscriminately, I’d realized that I’d be safer without them. Spur hadn’t ordered his men to rescue me – just to stop the Aurelians. He was more worried about punishing the aliens for stealing his property than trying to recover it.

  While we’re not being shot at anymore, we’re far from safe. Hadrian, the most brutish of the Aurelians – the one who’d looked at me with a hunger I’d worried he wouldn’t be able to control – stumbles and falls.

  Daccia and Kitos slew to a halt. Daccia roughly throws me onto my feet, giving me a warning glance since I’m no longer secure across his shoulder.

  I stand there as the leader of the triad rushes to his battle brother’s side. Two red dots are clear on Hadrian’s back, puncturing his jacket. Blood streams out the bullet holes. From the placement and the harsh rasping of the Aurelian, I suspect that one or both of the bullets punctured the Aurelian’s lung.

  I should be ecstatic. A wounded Aurelian makes my escape a lot more likely. However, instead, I’m filled with terror.

  An irrational flood of emotion overwhelms me. These Aurelians might have just kidnapped me – and they might be trying to steal me away to serve the cold ‘justice’ of their Empire…

  …but I realize I don’t want this magnificent alien to die. Not like this – shot in the back by a coward’s bullets, in a dark alleyway.

  I wrap my arms around my chest and shiver – too numb to even think about escaping. Daccia, the leader of the Aurelians, looks up at me as he kneels by his battle-brother’s side.

  “If you even think about escaping again, I’ll punish you even more than I plan to already – understood?”

  “…than I plan to already.” Fuck! It looks like I’m going to get punished for that first escape attempt, aren’t I?

  Kitos, the third Aurelian, draws his Orb-Weapon. He stands guard at the entrance to the alleyway, while the leader of the triad reaches into the pockets of his suit and pulls out a small, slimline spray.

  I recognize it as medi-seal – a military-grade medical gel. Daccia uses it to quickly seal Hadrian’s bloody injuries; filling and sealing the bullet wounds with the expanding spray foam.

  “It’s… It’s through my fucking lungs,” Hadrian gasps, blood frothing on his lips. There’s no fear in his voice – merely agony as the huge warrior coughs up blood. The red contrasts almost beautifully against his stark, marble-white skin. Even his lips look like they’re carved from marble, now flecked with blood.

  The leader of the Aurelians lifts his arm, the gesture pulling back the cuff of his sleeve. He presses a button on his smart-watch…

  …just as a voice rings out from behind us: “Don’t fucking move!”

  I snap my head around. At the opposite end of the alleyway are four men, pointing rifles at us. I suddenly hear noises from the way we came, and the three men who’d been shooting at us appear, their
pistols pointed right at us.

  The three Aurelians look up and down the alleyway – the way we came, and the way we’d clearly hoped to escape. Now, armed men block both paths.

  We’re trapped.

  For a moment back there, I’d hoped Spur would save me from these Aurelians – but now that thought fills me with dread. I can’t stomach the idea of going back to my miserable existence, stripping for money. I’d almost been relived when I’d finally realized these Aurelians were from Law Enforcement. I’d been dreading their arrival for so long, it was finally a relief to finally be caught, cornered and captured…

  But now these three Aurelian Law Enforcement agents are going to either be forced off this planet…

  …or just gunned down, right in front of me.

  And, if they are – that’s the end of my time here.

  I won’t be able to stay any longer on this planet – not now that Law Enforcement know where I am, or after the agents they’d dispatched to capture me have been killed or exiled.

  Fuck! I need to get out of here! I need to get out of this alleyway, grab my go-bag, and just jet. My entire life has been spent in fear of the day Law Enforcement tracked me down – and now they’ve got my scent, I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to evade capture.

  I’m exhausted just at the thought of it.

  I can’t go back to Spur’s, either – even if I’d wanted to. It’s clear that Spur was trying to sell me to these Aurelians – assuming they wanted another woman for their harem, not knowing they were really Law Enforcement officers.

  But now he does know – or, more specifically, now that he knows I know – he’s not going to welcome me back to dance for him. Plus, he knows now that Aurelian Law Enforcement is after me, and he’ll make sure I’m sold to another buyer before they track me down again – or I can escape.

  My mind races. Meanwhile, the two groups of gunmen march forward – closing in on us from both sides. Their steps are unsteady with fear, but they have both the advantage of numbers and guns.

  “Drop your fucking swords!” The biggest guard, with the biggest rifle, screams out the warning.

  The clattering sound of three Orb-Weapon hilts hitting the ground stuns me. I’d never have imagined the Aurelians giving in so easily.

  Then again, this alleyway would be a terrible place to die. The puddles under my feet are small and shallow, and yet they look hungry for me to fall into them. I imagine the Aurelians are no more enthusiastic about meeting their end on these dirty, dingy cobblestones than I am.

  Spur's men advance. Now the Aurelians have dropped their weapons, the human guards are in full control of the situation. As they approach, they look at me like a piece of meat.

  Shit. Now I know I'm not going to go back to dancing. Now that I know Spur wanted to sell me, the stakes are higher than ever. He’ll be furious that the Aurelians betrayed him, and wise to the fact that I’ll try to escape given the first opportunity.

  He'll have me carted off to the next slave auction – end of story.

  That thought disgusts me to the core. Dancing for dirty, disgusting men was bad enough – but the thought of being forced onto a slave auction stage, wearing nothing more than a skimpy dress that hides nothing, fills me with dread.

  Imagine the vilest of human men, Rogue Aurelians, and – oh, Gods – even Toads bidding on me! The thought is horrifying. I’ve already spent weeks in an Aurelian Harem – experiencing the powerful dominance of those towering aliens…

  …that would be heaven compared to being stuck in a Toad harem.

  "Calm."

  The single word emerges from the lips of the leader of the Aurelians, Daccia. He speaks it so softly that I know the words are only for my ears.

  Calm, he says.

  Fuck, I’m calm already – look at me!

  I'm not trembling, at least. I'm too strong for that. All I know is I'm not going to be taken alive. Spur’s men, these Aurelians – they’re all the same. These fuckers all think I’m just some weak-willed woman.

  Let's see what happens when I grab one of their guns and jam it in their mouth!

  I’m gearing up to do exactly that – knowing it might mean my end – when there's suddenly a low hum from above me.

  A shadow passes overhead.

  As one, all of us look up. Spur’s men gasp - their jaws agape as they see an Aurelian Reaver swoop down above them. The Aurelian attack ship is a dark menace, blotting out the sun. The twin cannons on either side of the ship track Spur’s men – both groups of them, at either end of the alleyway.

  Oh, Gods!

  They might be working for Spur – but nobody deserves to be blasted into nothing by the powerful Orb-Beams of an Aurelian warship.

  I scream: "No!" – but it's too late.

  Orb-Beams lance out from the floating ship. I hear the screams, but I can't look. Spur’s men are running away – the ones that aren’t killed instantly, at least. A moment earlier they were filled with bravado, thinking they had the Aurelians dead to rights…

  …now they’re rushing to escape the bloodbath of the alleyway.

  And yet, as they flee, I look up and see there was no bloodbath.

  Somehow, none of Spur’s men were hurt. The Orb-Beams seared the cobblestones, and burned black marks across the walls, but in their mercy the Aurelians had let them flee like frightened children, rather than cutting them down like dogs.

  "No reason to kill," growls Hadrian, the most brutal of the Aurelians. He’s kneeling on the ground, gasping from his injuries, but the slightest curl of a triumphant smile adorns his marble face.

  I look up at the black shadow hovering overhead. The Aurelians had made their Reaver shoot in front of the men, not right at them – or through them.

  The race of warriors known for their brutality had demonstrated a rare kind of mercy, instead.

  Hadrian speaks again – his voice strained from the gunshot wounds.

  “No reason to kill,” he repeats, “but I think a couple of them pissed their pants.”

  I stand there, too shocked to even smile at his comment.

  I would have expected these Aurelians to want to crush their enemies. Then, I'm reminded that – at their core – these three warriors still work for the Aurelian Law Enforcement.

  Killing men – even men who haven’t been innocent since the day their mother spawned them – wouldn’t be tolerated by their authoritarian government of the Aurelian Empire.

  Their laws may be cold, cruel and crushing…

  …but they’re consistent.

  The alleyway is now deserted – with Spur’s men long gone. The Reaver overhead slowly descends on autopilot.

  I remember watching a safety holo-vid, back when I was ten years old. It was a three-dimensional representation of a kidnapping. I remember the harsh voice of the man who was leading the safety video.

  He’d told us that if you're in a kidnapping, your chances of survival drop by 70% as soon as you get into the kidnappers’ vehicles. If you're taken to a second location...

  …you're almost never seen again.

  That’s not going to be me.

  I use the distraction of the descending ship to wriggle free and run.

  Or, at least, I try to…

  I make it two steps before Kitos grabs me by – closing his huge fingers around my hand and yanking me back firmly I nearly stumble off my feet.

  He grips on tight. I can't move a muscle. Then, Kitos looks down at me with his piercing, slate-grey eyes.

  "You were told you’d be punished for another escape attempt. Don’t provoke us any further.”

  My heart sinks. I know all about Aurelian punishments. I’d spent all that time in one of their harems, and I experienced the sensual punishments first hand. The legal punishments? Much worse. I wanted to learn everything about my enemies, and I’ve read all their laws and regulations.

  "We'll put her in the brig," growls the leader of the Aurelians. Daccia’s face is a mask as he watche
s the ship come to a halt – hovering a foot off the cobblestones in front of us. The vessel doesn't make a sound – but, then again, the hum of an Orb-Drive isn't something you hear.

  No, you feel it – deep within your spine. It's a vibration caused by the Orb sphere that powers both the Orb-Drive of the Aurelian ship – which allows for interstellar travel – and the devastating twin Orb-Cannons that can blast through nearly anything.

  The side of the ship opens up. I realize now I have no choice. First, the Aurelians scoop up the Orb-Weapons they’d dropped, then Kitos shoves me through the hatch, into the vessel. Daccia follows, helping the limping, bleeding Hadrian to the medical bay. The medical bays of the Aurelians have a legendary status. Some say that they can bring a man back from the dead. From my research on the Reavers, I know they can’t do that impossible miracle - but they can damn well come close. Hadrian’s punctured lungs will be back to full health soon enough. Once we’re all on board, Daccia takes his place in the cockpit. Kitos yanks me to the back of the ship.

  I feel the ship dart upward, my stomach plummeting. We’re escaping the planet, even as I’m forced into captivity.

  Kitos walks me down a hallway, lined with doors that can be opened at the press of a button – if your bio signature is in the AI system, that is. At the end of the hallway is an ominously drab, gray doorway that I know must lead to the brig.

  The Reaver is a small vessel, compared to other warships of the Empire. So small, in fact, that I know most prisoners are allowed full access to all the ship’s amenities; provided they behave, of course.

  After all – once you’re in space, on board with three towering Aurelians, what harm can you do?

  The worst punishment – that for trying to escape – is to be holed up in the brig; given only punishment rations that consist of a kind of dried, mealy bread, and water.

  I only know all this because I’ve studied the capture documents that lay out exactly what can and can’t be done to a prisoner – knowing that one day I might become one.

  Well, today is that day.

  “Please, I don’t deserve this,” I gasp, hoping to get some sympathy from Kitos. None is forthcoming.