The democracy of the star-spanning Lazanha Combine reached far and wide into the Galaxy, but it did not reach as far as Sorilior. Located on the southernmost edge of the galactic central bulge, this was a world that had enjoyed unchallenged feudalism for countless millennia.
Even so, hyperspace travellers had occasionally made their way there and started trade relations. That was how Matino Biranis had heard of the planet. Because Sorilior had quickly become famous for a very speciel commodity: thoroughbred harem girls.
For more than a thousand years the Soriliori aristocracy had been actively breeding women in elaborate ”stud farms”, selecting and enhancing attractive physical traits in order to create a plentiful supply of perfect mistresses for the planet’s princes and lords.
They didn’t do it with genetic engineering or any such newfangled technology; they did it the old-fashioned way, which was the only way they knew how. The Combine’s anthropologists had come and gone, reporting that there was very little abuse involved in the custom. Both the male and female participants were honored to be selected for the prestigious position of giving life to the planet’s foremost currency: the most beautiful women in the galaxy.
Matino knew the score. The thoroughbred harem girls were blond, which in Soriliori culture symbolized purity and health. They were athletic, so their dancing skills could be honed to perfection. They were voluptuous, so their prospective masters would desire them as nightly consorts. They were youthful in facial features, so their company would make their masters forget their own age.
In personality the girls were exuberant and happy, so that they would spread good spirits wherever they went. And in mental sharpness they were keener than the cut of a diamond dagger, so that they could converse with great insight whenever their master were desirous of intellectual stimulation.
Matino knew he wanted such a companion for remedying his own loneliness, and since there was no way he could ever afford so precious a thing, he was going to steal one.
Matino had done his homework; he had even gone to the trouble of learning the local language (most of the population didn’t speak Galactic Standard, of course). He knew of the war in the district of Dolirin, and he observed the war’s decisive battle from the safety of his ship, miles above the countryside. The castle of Sellio was under invasion by the forces of Prince Molrek, and Matino swooped down to a barren patch of land next to the castle, his ship in full cloak mode.
As most of the soldiers had cleared out, leaving behind a few squadrons to get the loot organized, Matino went inside the smoking castle walls in search of the prize he knew those walls held. He cleared a corner and instantly knew where he was: the harem wing.
It was in a bad state. The bodies of those who had defended it were strewn across the floor, and some of the women had not escaped the massacre, either. Two sentinels had been posted to guard the remains of the harem, which amounted to three blonde girls and about fifteen cowering servants of both sexes. Having given the guards a taste of his ray-gun, Matino inspected the selection.
He entertained the notion of making off with all three harem girls and some of the servant girls as well, but quickly realized that that would be a lot more than he could handle (and in space, too!). So he chose the prettiest girl, grabbed her by the wrist and began to lead her out of there.