Page 19
Story: Aurelian Prisoner
The single word emerges from the lips of the leader of the Aurelians, Daccia. He speaks it so softly that I know the words are only for my ears.
Calm, he says.
Fuck, I’m calm already – look at me!
I'm not trembling, at least. I'm too strong for that. All I know is I'mnotgoing to be taken alive. Spur’s men, these Aurelians – they’re all the same. These fuckers all think I’m just some weak-willed woman.
Let's see what happens when I grab one of their guns and jam it in their mouth!
I’m gearing up to do exactly that – knowing it might mean my end – when there's suddenly a low hum from above me.
A shadow passes overhead.
As one, all of us look up. Spur’s men gasp - their jaws agape as they see an Aurelian Reaver swoop down above them. The Aurelian attack ship is a dark menace, blotting out the sun. The twin cannons on either side of the ship track Spur’s men – both groups of them, at either end of the alleyway.
Oh, Gods!
They might be working for Spur – but nobody deserves to be blasted into nothing by the powerful Orb-Beams of an Aurelian warship.
I scream: "No!" – but it's too late.
Orb-Beams lance out from the floating ship. I hear the screams, but I can't look. Spur’s men are running away – the ones that aren’t killed instantly, at least. A moment earlier they were filled with bravado, thinking they had the Aurelians dead to rights…
…now they’re rushing to escape the bloodbath of the alleyway.
And yet, as they flee, I look up and see therewasno bloodbath.
Somehow, none of Spur’s men were hurt. The Orb-Beams seared the cobblestones, and burned black marks across the walls, but in their mercy the Aurelians had let them flee like frightened children, rather than cutting them down like dogs.
"No reason to kill," growls Hadrian, the most brutal of the Aurelians. He’s kneeling on the ground, gasping from his injuries, but the slightest curl of a triumphant smile adorns his marble face.
I look up at the black shadow hovering overhead. The Aurelians had made their Reaver shoot infrontof the men, not right at them – or through them.
The race of warriors known for their brutality had demonstrated a rare kind of mercy, instead.
Hadrian speaks again – his voice strained from the gunshot wounds.
“No reason to kill,” he repeats, “but I think a couple of them pissed their pants.”
I stand there, too shocked to even smile at his comment.
I would have expected these Aurelians to want to crush their enemies. Then, I'm reminded that – at their core – these three warriors still work for the Aurelian Law Enforcement.
Killing men – even men who haven’t been innocent since the day their mother spawned them – wouldn’t be tolerated by their authoritarian government of the Aurelian Empire.
Their laws may be cold, cruel and crushing…
…but they’re consistent.
The alleyway is now deserted – with Spur’s men long gone. The Reaver overhead slowly descends on autopilot.
I remember watching a safety holo-vid, back when I was ten years old. It was a three-dimensional representation of a kidnapping. I remember the harsh voice of the man who was leading the safety video.
He’d told us that if you're in a kidnapping, your chances of survival drop by 70% as soon as you get into the kidnappers’ vehicles. If you're taken to a second location...
…you're almost never seen again.
That’s not going to be me.
Calm, he says.
Fuck, I’m calm already – look at me!
I'm not trembling, at least. I'm too strong for that. All I know is I'mnotgoing to be taken alive. Spur’s men, these Aurelians – they’re all the same. These fuckers all think I’m just some weak-willed woman.
Let's see what happens when I grab one of their guns and jam it in their mouth!
I’m gearing up to do exactly that – knowing it might mean my end – when there's suddenly a low hum from above me.
A shadow passes overhead.
As one, all of us look up. Spur’s men gasp - their jaws agape as they see an Aurelian Reaver swoop down above them. The Aurelian attack ship is a dark menace, blotting out the sun. The twin cannons on either side of the ship track Spur’s men – both groups of them, at either end of the alleyway.
Oh, Gods!
They might be working for Spur – but nobody deserves to be blasted into nothing by the powerful Orb-Beams of an Aurelian warship.
I scream: "No!" – but it's too late.
Orb-Beams lance out from the floating ship. I hear the screams, but I can't look. Spur’s men are running away – the ones that aren’t killed instantly, at least. A moment earlier they were filled with bravado, thinking they had the Aurelians dead to rights…
…now they’re rushing to escape the bloodbath of the alleyway.
And yet, as they flee, I look up and see therewasno bloodbath.
Somehow, none of Spur’s men were hurt. The Orb-Beams seared the cobblestones, and burned black marks across the walls, but in their mercy the Aurelians had let them flee like frightened children, rather than cutting them down like dogs.
"No reason to kill," growls Hadrian, the most brutal of the Aurelians. He’s kneeling on the ground, gasping from his injuries, but the slightest curl of a triumphant smile adorns his marble face.
I look up at the black shadow hovering overhead. The Aurelians had made their Reaver shoot infrontof the men, not right at them – or through them.
The race of warriors known for their brutality had demonstrated a rare kind of mercy, instead.
Hadrian speaks again – his voice strained from the gunshot wounds.
“No reason to kill,” he repeats, “but I think a couple of them pissed their pants.”
I stand there, too shocked to even smile at his comment.
I would have expected these Aurelians to want to crush their enemies. Then, I'm reminded that – at their core – these three warriors still work for the Aurelian Law Enforcement.
Killing men – even men who haven’t been innocent since the day their mother spawned them – wouldn’t be tolerated by their authoritarian government of the Aurelian Empire.
Their laws may be cold, cruel and crushing…
…but they’re consistent.
The alleyway is now deserted – with Spur’s men long gone. The Reaver overhead slowly descends on autopilot.
I remember watching a safety holo-vid, back when I was ten years old. It was a three-dimensional representation of a kidnapping. I remember the harsh voice of the man who was leading the safety video.
He’d told us that if you're in a kidnapping, your chances of survival drop by 70% as soon as you get into the kidnappers’ vehicles. If you're taken to a second location...
…you're almost never seen again.
That’s not going to be me.
Table of Contents
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