“Why don’t we just
tranq them?” The angry guard touches his waist holster.
“Do you have ears? The master said pristine. He hardly wants a drooling, droopy flop-doll at auction. Buyers like to see tears and alert fear.” He laughs.
The guards grab us both, me and Enya, rough—but not damaging.
She covers her own mouth to muffle her screams as we’re loaded into a double-sized crate and the metal grate clangs shut.
“Keep her quiet.” The overseer steps closer and looks me in the eye. “I cannot damage her, but I can certainly hurt you.” He reaches his shock stick through the bars and pokes Enya without powering it up. The girl flinches and cries out in fear, even though there is no electricity. “And you. If you want to spare your keeper a severed finger or two? You shut up. Immediately. And don’t speak again until I tell you.”
Enya goes mute, her eyes huge, brimming with tears.
The overseer and the guards laugh. There is some back slapping and ribald jokes. Discussion about how he’s the best at managing difficult slaves, and that’s why Master favors him.
Then we’re loaded onto a ship, toward a fate worse than death.
And I have no plans.
I’ve cared for Enya on this planet since she was just an infant, taken from her true mother, a breeder, and I love her as much as if she were my own. As a house slave, I have it easier than pleasure slaves or field workers, and I’ve shielded Enya from harm and taught her as much as I can. Together we’ve navigated life as human slaves to Ocretions, and even eked out enjoyment when possible.
I had hoped to figure out a way to get her to freedom before she was old enough to be sold.
But now it’s too late.
Tarek
“Captain, we’re clear to land. Our ship is masked as a Daglan trader.” I set the coordinates and snort. “Not that the tower cares. This planet cares little for interstellar treaties and fair treatment conventions.”
Drayk clears his throat. “That lack of concern is a double-edged sword.”
I nod, and use my mind-link to initiate the downward thrusters to our assigned spot on the tarmac. “They care neither about our provenance nor our security.”
The ship barely taps as I maneuver it to the ground. “And we’re here.”
There’s a moment of silence before our captain speaks. “Tarek will wait here and keep the ship ready to go. Zane and I will mask as traders and attend the auction.”
Part of me wants to protest. Say that I’ll go with them and help win the girl’s safety. If needed, I’ll battle our way back to our ship.
But no matter how spectacularly I can perform feats of navigation with my high-tech implants, I still falter out in the field. Lacking sight is a distinct disadvantage no matter how hard I train with our best warriors.
I stiffen my jaw. “Understood.”
“If we don’t make it back…”
“You will.” I stand and cross my arms over my chest. “It’s not even a question.”
“I agree. Nonetheless, you know the protocol.”
I’d never leave without my captain, and he knows it. Still, I give him a curt nod. “Yes, Captain.”
Another moment and they’re gone, leaving me alone. But there is much to do, and I bend over the consoles, checking and adjusting perimeter sensors. I’m handy with a stunner and any long-range weapon, as long as I can heat-sense a target in my proximity.
And I’d do anything to keep my brothers safe on this mission.
Zina
They dressed her in a diaphanous gown that shows her slender body easily, and placed a floral wreath atop her head. It’s horrifically inappropriate, because she’s still an immature child. But her dazzling beauty, despite her tears and terror, is jaw-dropping. She’s clean, her pale skin scrubbed to a healthy glow and her short black hair falls in soft waves around her pretty face. I clutch her hand, darting my gaze around wildly, looking for any form of help.