It’s even said that Aurelians can feel no emotion except for lustful desire, and no physical sensation except sexual pleasure.
Three men in suits suddenly run towards us, and the Aurelians stop. The men are carrying velvet pillows in front of them. On top are the hilts of three swords. The men are quaking as they offer up the stubs of these weapons to the Aurelians.
What use are those? What the hell kind of damage can they do with empty hilts?
But then I see the three Orb-shards embedded in each of the hilts. I’m transfixed. I’ve heard about the famous Orb-Weapons that Aurelians carry, but I’ve never seen one in real life before.
Orbs are the stuff of legend. Infinitely rare and valuable, they’re the otherworldly substance that powers spaceships through the universe and fuels the most devastating weapons of war.
Perhaps, just like the devices they fuel, these weapons only exist when the Orb-Material is called into manifestation – creating the blades and surfaces I’ve read about.
As I stare at the Orb-material, it’s almost like it stares back at me – almost as if it’s communicating and confirming my suspicion.
The Orb-shards pulse in the light, and they’re so dark they look like little holes in reality – blacker than black. Blacker than real. I take a step away from the bladeless weapons, and accidently bump into one of the massive aliens looming behind me.
Fear darts through me as I spin around and gaze up at the towering warrior – and then quickly look down before he thinks that I meant some kind of defiance with my gaze.
His hands slowly comes to my shoulder, and the alien pats me…
He fucking pats me – as if he’s comforting a scared dog!
Humiliation rushes through my body, but I’m just glad that he didn’t use that huge hand to slap me for my blunder.
The leader of the Aurelians steps up to the offered weapons and takes the one I can only assume belongs to him. He caresses the hilt, holding the weapon as though it’s a lover. Finally, he slides the hilt into his belt loop and it swings back and forth in front of me – practically level with my face.
The sudden, crazy idea of grabbing the hilt and somehow activating the weapon flows through my mind. It’s insane, I know, but I’m glad that at least some part of me hasn’t given up.
The other two Aurelians take the hilts of their own weapons, and the moment they grab them the servants rush away, perhaps glad to have survived the encounter with their heads still attached to their bodies. The reputation Aurelians have for violence has spread far and wide throughout the universe – and from just the look of these towering warriors, I can sense that it’s well-founded.
I peek past the broad back of the leader of the Aurelians, hoping to catch a glimpse of Danielle one last time. Expect for a few people lounging around at the theatre restaurant, though, the main entryway is empty. Everyone must still be watching the proceedings inside. It’s not often a slave auction is held – and never in such a fine location.
The three Aurelians escort me into an elevator that shoots us upwards at an incredible speed, and finally opens up onto a vehicle deck. Luxurious space shuttles are neatly parked in marked spots – some hovering in place, while others are perched on their landing gear.
I know that Don Paradooli purchased the vehicle the Aurelians arrived in – that lethal warcraft known as a Reaver. They must have already purchased another vessel – albeit a less formidable one. That ends being the case, as the three aliens lead me to a slick, black vessel that has no visible weaponry pointing out from it. It’s still luxurious, though – and as soon as I see the craft, I have to question whether they either bought or rented it. I imagine even a beautiful top-of-the-line vessel like this would be well within their new budget. After all, Peter would have paid a fortune for an intact Aurelian warship. These Aurelians must be loaded.
The doors open and I pull myself into the ship after the leader of the triad.
As I settle into the luxurious seating, I feel the urge to ask these alien strangers who they really are, and why they came to Reena of all worlds…
…but in truth, the answer scares me. What if they say that they here came for slaves? That would instantly destroy any hope I have that these three towering aliens have an ounce of mercy in them.
Even worse – what if they slap me for asking such an insolent question?
The truth is, right now I have no idea who I now ‘belong’ to. All I know is that they’re not slimy, warty Bullfrogs – and I suppose I have that to be grateful for, if nothing else.
The leader of the group sits at the cockpit helm, and then turns his head.
“I am Evander,” he says, in a low, rumbling voice that I more feel than hear. “What is your name?”
I draw in a deep breath. I need to get these warriors on my side if I want any chance of saving Danielle. My breasts press out against the sleek material of the pleasure dress, my nipples still peaked from the sensations of the dress when it had been activated.
“I-I’m Ashley,” I say throatily, and I feel a flush come to my cheeks as I notice the Aurelian’s eyes dart inexorably down to my breasts.
I turn, and reach out gently, grazing my hand against the second Aurelian’s thigh. He’s the one with the hard, cold eyes – the one who’d been most vigilant in scanning the perimeter for signs of trouble.
To my concern, the alien’s hard gaze doesn’t soften under my touch, but at least I know I’m not imagining the heat that
