She is why I was brought here! She is the reason the portal opened!
I take a step towards her, moving my Orb-Daggers to my right hand and reaching out with my left. I don’t care that there are Scorp Warriors closing in fast. I need to feel her. I have only moments before I will have to turn and fight, and I want to experience the touch of her skin before I do.
Then, suddenly, my legs stop working.
Confusion fills my mind. A boom of thunder has assaulted me – like a punch that hits my chest harder than I’ve ever been struck before. It’s as if an invisible giant has just slammed his huge hand into me.
Across the room, the stick that the man is holding gushes smoke from the end of it.
I’m suddenly weak. I fall to my knees, my eyes wide open as I stare at the beautiful woman standing there in front of me. I know something’s wrong, so I drink in as much of her essence as I still can.
Then, finally, I blink – and it’s as if my senses have returned.
I look down at my chest and find the source of my sudden pain and weakness.
Green blood is spurting from a gouging rend in my chest.
6
Tammy
Those are Aurelians!
When the door burst down, I was ready for Scorp Warriors. Instead, three of those huge, marble-skinned overlords power into the room – as if they own it.
I’ve never seen an Aurelian in the flesh, but I recognize them instantly from the pictures I’ve seen. Yet these three look like nothing like I could have prepared for.
The Aurelians I’ve read about and seen pictures of are supposed to be noble creatures, haughty and clad in expensive armor or robed like the Romans from the ancient days of Earth.
These three look completely different – so much so that I can only identify them as Aurelian from their marble-skin and towering build. They definitely are from that same species of warrior-alien – but so very different to the warriors and dignitaries of the Empire that has kept us subjugated for so many years.
These three wear only loincloths. Their muscled bodies are hewn perfection, just as all Aurelians are. I shiver as I make out each of their defined muscles; and I shamefully imagine what it would feel like to run my hand down their chiseled bodies…
And yet, while their build is the same, they’re nothing like they’re supposed to be. Aurelians are supposed to have pure, unblemished marble skin; as white and flawless as a statue. I know all about that from the tales I’ve read, and from what my friends Jade and Anna have told me; as they gushed over the pure, white skin of the aliens whose harems they joined.
But while these three warriors may have the same ivory skin, their muscled bodies are covered in intricate, venomous green tattoos – a gallery of tribal artwork inked into their skin, with patterns that swirl and trace the defined lines of their powerful bodies. Their veins, too, are clearly visible beneath their marble skin – bright green, as though their blood is pumping with poison.
I don’t know who is more surprised – the Aurelians, or me.
The three Aurelians stagger to a halt the moment they burst through the door, and they all stop with identical expressions of wonder on their absurdly handsome faces. The three of them are staring at me as though I’m some priceless piece of art; or like a sunrise after a long, cold night.
The two huge Aurelians in the front are nearly blocking my view, but my heart pounds as I see Stacy and Tod – the two youngest orphans I care for – safe and unharmed in the arm of the third member of the imposing triad.
They’re alive! Oh, Gods, thank you! Thank you! Two of the street kids are alive, at least – thanks to these Aurelians.
But before I can process another thought, a gunshot rings out. The Aurelian in front stares at me as he suddenly stumbles, falling to his knees. A scream leaves my mouth as the stunned Aurelian reluctantly tears his eyes from me, and instead looks down at the bloody hole in his chest.
The second Aurelian – who has dark, black curls that frame his boyishly handsome face – rushes forward, swinging some kind of massive war-hammer in a deadly arc. A roar of hatred and rage leaves his mouth as he moves to cleave Edgar in two before my boss and protector can reload his rifle.
I don’t think.
I just act.
I jump forward, placing my body between Edgar and the Aurelian warrior.
I hold my hands up – as if they could somehow stop this warrior’s mighty Orb-Weapon. Terror fills me first, and then regret as I realize the foolishness of my gesture.
I stand there, awaiting death, and it’s like I’m watching in slow motion. The alien’s huge war-hammer swings directly towards me, and time practically stops as I see it’s deadly arc.
Then, suddenly, the Aurelian’s eyes open in shock. He tries desperately to stop the path of his deadly swing. Incredibly – perhaps due to the superhuman reflexes Aurelians are famous for – the warrior succeeds. His huge hammer whips to within a half-inch of my face…
…and then stops.
I turn to Edgar, who had used the distraction I’d caused to reload the single shot rifle. He brings the barrel to bear on the Aurelian.
“They’re not Scorp!” I cry, begging him not to pull the trigger again.
“They’re Aurelians,” Edgar growls, his voice filled with hatred. “They’re just as bad.”
Yet he still paused from pulling the trigger – and instead kept the gun levelled at the Aurelian with the war-hammer; poised to shoot, rather than having already done so.
“Put down your weapon or they’ll kill us,” I plead, knowing that if these Aurelian were truly the enemy, the one at the rear of the triad would not be carrying
