Suddenly, the Aurelian snaps his fingers. I jump at the loud crack.
Two Aurelians step out from behind one of the Reavers, marching past my crew.
The closer they get, the bigger these looming aliens feel. The huge warriors are so massive that you know they could rip your throat out with just a twist of their wrists. Each of these huge Aurelians has the hilt of an Orb-Weapon at their side, just like the one the Captain wears.
Orb-Weapons are the signature sidearm of an Aurelian Warrior – crafted from bone-like material, with a blackish-blue shard of Orb embedded in the grip. When the warriors activate their weapons, blades of shimmering, blue-black energy ripple into existence; humming maliciously. When you hear that noise – although it’s almost as if you feel it as much as hear it – you know blood is about to be spilled.
Not that they couldn’t spill enough blood without those otherworldly weapons. Aurelians aren’t built like humans. The rarest human might exceed seven-feet in height, but those that do are often beansprouts – tall and thin.
Aurelians, on the other hand, are wide. They’re a foot or more taller than humans – but built in perfect proportions; like bodybuilders or world-class athletes. Every Aurelian has naturally broad shoulders, huge, muscular frames, and lean, ripped physiques. Sawoot once told me that the average Aurelian is over 500 pounds in concentrated mass.
Some nights, I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve even wondered what it might feel like to be pressed down against a bed by 500 pounds of chiseled, muscled perfection. If Aurelians weren’t such haughty, arrogant bastards, I might be attracted to their species.
Oh, hell, who am I kidding? I am physically attracted to them – what woman wouldn’t be? They’re built like statues of Greek Gods – pure, masculine perfection. I’m just lucky their personality is repellent – or, at least, the personality of every Aurelian I’ve ever met has been; including the Captain of this vessel.
The Aurelians he summoned pass right by me and enter my ship. They have to squeeze their huge frames in through the human-scale hatch.
I immediately feel violated. There’s nothing worse than strangers trampling around inside your pride and joy – and for all her dings, cracks and battle damage, that’s exactly how I consider the Wayward Scythe.
I don’t want them tearing my ship apart. Ever since the Aurelian Captain mentioned the word ‘heist’ I’ve known what they’re after – the same thing as those three Toad ships.
“They’re under a floor panel,” I offer, calling over my shoulder. “The one right outside the washrooms.”
I might as well give up the secret location of our illicit cargo – those lumbering bastards would have found our ill-gotten goods eventually. If we can earn some goodwill for our cooperation, I’ll take it – and if I can prevent those burly aliens from ripping my ship apart in the meantime, I’ll take that, too.
The Aurelian Captain smiles menacingly.
“How very… cooperative of you.”
Seconds tick by, turning into minutes. I hear the aliens rummaging in my ship behind us, and I cringe at every clunk and thud. Finally, the two Aurelians march out, and my heart sinks.
They’re each holding an Orb.
The warriors stretch their arms out, walking carefully, even though the otherworldly objects known as Orbs are practically indestructible in their current form.
“We got them, Captain Aelon,” one of the warriors barks. “There are twenty-five in total.” The Aurelian says the words with curt authority, but I can hear the sense of wonder in his voice.
I don’t blame him. Twenty-five Orbs – even mid-sized ones, like these – comprise a nearly indescribable fortune.
Two more triads of Aurelians enter the loading bay, and start helping the other two take each and every Orb from the concealed storage aboard my little ship.
I turn and study Chris’s expression as more and more of these warriors arrive. He’s realizing my warning from earlier was right – that we couldn’t have fought our way out of this. We’re well and truly outnumbered.
One by one, the Orbs are carried past us.
This entire battleship – huge and deadly – is powered by a single Orb; albeit one much larger than any of the ones we’d stolen. Likewise, each of these Aurelians carries a minuscule shard of Orb in the hilt of their Orb-Weapons. Orbs and Aurelians are synonymous. Theirs was the first species to harness the otherworldly, almost infinite power of these mysterious objects.
In fact, the Orb-Weapon that every Aurelian carries is granted to them in return for their hundred years of service to the Aurelian Empire; fighting their age-old conflict against the Scorp and other interstellar threats. All of the powerful, incredible technology of the Empire seems to be powered by Orb-Material.
Yet even to a species that controls the majority of all the Orb-Material in the universe, our haul of twenty-five mid-sized Orbs is impressive.
Captain Aelon’s grin widens at his luck. The flash of his teeth is like a punch in the guts to me.
My crew and I nearly died to secure those Orbs – and we practically delivered them into this Captain’s cargo bay for him. The only thing missing is wrapping paper and a bow.
“Twenty-five Orbs,” Aelon counts them as they’re carried past. “Impressive – but I think that’s short.”
His slate-grey eyes turn to me.
“The official report says you stole one more.” The Captain leans forward menacingly. “Where is it?”
Dammit!
I’d separated a single Orb from the main stash, in case of this exact situation. I’d hoped that twenty-five mid-sized Orbs would be enough to blind whoever might attempt to steal our cargo – so they didn’t go looking for any more.
But, as is typical for their officious species, the Aurelians apparently had good intel about the exact number of Orbs we’d managed to steal – and any goodwill I’d gained by pointing Captain Aelon in the direction of our hidden storage compartment has now
