The three Aurelians weren’t at the marketplace to shop – not in a poor sector, where the stalls sold cheap goods and grains. They were searching for someone. A drunk, or hooligan who’d been foolish enough to throw a bottle at them the day before the storm. I pray to the Gods that those three Aurelians never found the guy they were looking for, because they looked like vengeful angels rather than arbiters of justice. I had the feeling they weren’t looking to punish the wrongdoer through traditional, legal means.
As intimidating as they appeared, the sight of those Aurelians had instantly captured my imagination. After that day, I’d made the effort to learn everything I could, from anyone who’d tell me about their species.
I was amazed to learn that the rumors of Aurelians coming from an all-male species were true. How they reproduced, I have no fucking clue – because for all the hundreds of human women those marble-skinned giants seem to collect in their infamous harems, they never have sons.
That doesn’t stop their appetite for willing, nubile flesh, though. Aurelians are famous for it – known across the galaxy as sex-mad, degenerate sophisticates.
I can’t confirm the rumors – and I certainly wouldn’t want to – but I also heard from various sources that Aurelians descend into a feral mating frenzy at the height of their arousal; becoming crazed, rutting beasts with no control over their lustful urges.
Can you even imagine it? Those marble-skinned beasts already looked like Greek Gods – only bigger. The three Aurelians I’d seen must have easily weighed four or five-hundred pounds each – and barely an ounce of that was fat.
I can vividly remember every rippling muscle of those three Aurelians – as if the definition of their powerful muscles has been chiseled into my memory the same way their bodies looked like they’d been chiseled out of marble.
They were built like human athletes, only at a scale no human athlete could ever compete with. I mean, sure – I’ve seen one human man who was nearly seven-feet-tall, but he was a beanpole compared to the three towering alien warriors I’d seen that day.
And that’s how I’ll always remember them – how I’ll always think of their species. Wide, powerful, and swaggering like an Old-Earth lion on the plains of the Serengeti…
…and Darr wants me to go into the home of a triad of these intimidating aliens and steal from them!
“Darr,” I plead, “I’m begging you. Take back my cut of the last job if you must – just, please, don’t make me do this!”
I push the bag of coins back across the table towards him.
That modest bag of coins represents the profits from weeks of my work – all that lying, pretending, and playing the part of a maid, just to get a Sector 2 family to lower their guard long enough for me to steal from them.
I mean, Gods be damned – I’d actually had to clean, just like a real maid!
Darr’s huge hand slams down on top of mine as I push the coins towards him. I’m fast, but I never even saw it coming. I’m suddenly reminded why he’s considered the best thief on Deemak – and one of the most dangerous.
Tears spring to my eyes as Darr crushes my hand down on the beer-soaked surface of the hard, wooden table.
“You know the rules, Mia,” he snarls. “You do as I say – that’s the deal.”
There’s a chilling finality to Darr’s voice – and I don’t doubt any of his unspoken threats. While I owe him my life, I also know Darr has the ability and the will to easily take that life away from me should he ever decide to do so.
I once saw him beat a kid nearly to death, just for coming back from a job empty handed. The boy had been barely fifteen, but Darr had pummeled him to the ground and then kept pounding his huge, sledge-hammer fists into the teen’s face until we heard the crack and splinter of bones.
What’s more, Darr did it in front of us – not so much because he was angry, but because he wanted to make an example of the poor kid; to show all of us what the consequences would be if you failed him.
As I’d said – that day Darr reminded me that he might be the reason I had a life…
…but he was also the most likely reason I’d lose it.
That’s why today, as Darr crushed my hand under his, I didn’t try to struggle. I didn’t try to pull my hand away. I didn’t dare do anything that might challenge his dominance.
Darr stared coldly into my eyes, until I realized that even fifteen years in an Aurelian prison would be better than the consequences of refusing him.
I meekly murmur: “Who… Who is the target?”
Darr doesn’t blink. He never blinks. His eyes stare into mine, searching for any sign of defiance. Only when he’s completely satisfied that he owns me does the burly thief move his hand from mine.
I snatch my hand to my chest, clutching my crushed wrist. In doing so, I also take the bag of coins – wordlessly accepting Darr’s demand, and in doing so sealing my fate.
Darr watched, nodding in satisfaction.
“That’s better,” he growls. “Much better.”
I nod – too ashamed to speak.
“Okay, so listen up,” Darr leans in closer, to deter any would-be-eavesdroppers. “There’s a triad of filthy fucking rich Aurelian businessmen in the estates of Sector 1. Just like all those horny bastards, they have a reputation for being… voracious.”
I shudder at the thought.
The estates of Sector one sprawl out north, away from the density of the city. It’s the most affluent part of the best sector of the capital city.
“They’ve got a harem of thirty
