Aelon raises a hand, stopping his battle-brother in his tracks.
“Not quite, Vinicus. She’s not here to, ahem, satisfy you. This is the thief we heard about – the one who just pulled off the biggest theft of Orbs in the history of the Empire.”
Vinicus’s eyebrows raise, and his smile turns from wolfish to something I’d dare imagine was impressed.
I shiver in the heat of this warrior’s gaze. All three of the huge, looming aliens have the same piercing, slate-grey eyes – but while they’re colorless, they’re full of life.
“Gods!” Vinicus eventually breathes. “The thief? He turns to his other battle-brother – the huge figure bleeding in the doorway. “What do you think of that, Iunia? We’ve got a master thief here!”
There’s the steady plunking sound of blood dripping to the desk as the third, bloody Aurelian stares at me. He sizes me up, eyes flashing.
“She’s smaller than I expected.”
Vinicus reaches forward – his huge hand dirty, with old blood caked across it. He’s come straight from the battlefield without even washing.
I force myself not to flinch as his hand reaches towards me. I harden my nerves, looking up to meet his eyes – despite the fierceness of his gaze. Vinicus places that filthy, blood-encrusted hand beneath my chin, lifting my face up towards him. His touch is so much more gentle than I’d expected, and it sends a delicious tingle down my spine.
Those slate-grey eyes flash.
“You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?’
A surge of anger fills me. I slap his hand away – although it’s like slapping a concrete wall.
Vinicus laughs, pulling his hand away from me.
Aelon grins at the display. “Vinicus! Stop tormenting my prisoner and get cleaned up.” He then turns to his injured battle-brother. “You too, Iunia. You’re bleeding all over the fucking place.”
The two hulking men leave, a trail of blood and dirt in their wake. I thought Aelon was bad enough, but apparently I didn’t know the half of it.
The moment the door closes, Aelon turns to me with a wry smile.
“You’ll have to forgive Vinicus. He just cleared a Scorp nest – and he never learned manners.”
Scorp? There are Scorp here?
I remember the holographic projection of that moon. That explains what all those Reavers and Aurelian soldiers are doing down there on the surface.
I can’t even imagine the horror. There must be Scorp on the moon, and the infestation is spreading down to the planet below. Aelon must have been hired to provide security and clear out the nests.
That’s one hell of a task. Scorp are no joke.
The fourth and most fearsome of the dominant species in the universe, Scorp are disgusting creatures that can grow ten-feet-tall, and every inch of them is sculpted to be a vision of pure death.
They’re violence incarnated – a half-mammal, half-reptilian beast with the snapping claws and stinging tail of an Old-Earth scorpion. If there are Gods somewhere, looking down on us, Scorp serve as proof that they’ve got a sick, twisted sense of humor.
Aurelians are the only species that can combat the Scorp on anything vaguely close to equal terms. For humans like me? Your best hope if you face a Scorp is that they kill you quickly and cleanly – perhaps slicing off your head with one deadly snip of their massive claws.
The second-best option? It’s not pretty, but it’s better than the alternative. If the Scorp don’t get you with their deadly claws, you can expect the kiss of their dripping, glowing stinger. If you feel that stab into you, like a barbed dagger, you’re screwed. One drop of the glowing green venom and you’ll die in screaming agony over the course of hours as your blood boils and congeals in your veins; bursting through your blood vessels like putrid pink puss.
As I said, it isn’t pretty – but it’s better than the worst fate that can await you.
Your worst-case scenario – if the Scorp don’t kill you right away – is that they’ll cripple and break you instead. One snip of those claws could send your legs tumbling from your body, or leave you clutching a spurting stump where your arm used to be. The flat side of those powerful claws hits like a sledgehammer, crushing your bones and splintering your spine. As you lie helpless on the floor of their nest, the Scorp will drag you back into the darkness – through pitch-black, claustrophobic spaces where no one can hear you scream.
That’s what Scorp do – their primary purpose. They attack, they cripple, and they abduct – taking the broken, bleeding survivors back to their Scorp Queen.
The Queen of a Scorp nest is the stuff of nightmares – like a regular Scorp just kept on growing. Rearing twenty, or even thirty feet tall, they’ll accept the broken, screaming offerings that her Scorp warriors bring her, and then plunge her barbed ovipositor deep into their belly or chest; filling them with her pulsating, wriggling eggs.
As you lie dying, those hundreds of eggs will hatch deep inside of you. Sharp, ravenous beaks will start to devour your flesh, blood, and organs from within. Eventually, the writhing Scorp larvae will burst from your ravished, hollowed-out body as you die in despair and agony, far from the light of day.
“You look ill.”
I blink, snapped out of my nightmarish thoughts. I imagine I’m looking as green and sickly as I suddenly feel.
“I’m okay,” I gulp.
Just thinking about the Scorp made me nauseous. I can’t imagine the bravery it took for Vinicus and Iunia to voyage deep into the dark caverns of that moon – into the nest of those vile, loathsome creatures. What’s more, they did it voluntarily – and faced and killed the Queen!
For the first time, I understand one of the inarguable benefits of the Aurelian Empire protecting my home planet. We might have been impoverished by their heavy taxation; but in return, we’ve never had to face Scorp attacks.
I’ve heard all the stories of worlds that were less fortunate or had foolishly
