Whimpers and little cries filled the hallways of the mothership as the Slythonians walked around, preparing everything for the slaves’ auction. It was their job after all: provide the best slaves in all the galaxies.
“Are the slaves ready, Eskol?” Rurik asked, his forked tongue hissing the words.
The Slythonians would be easily described as huge lizards, able to walk on two feet, but still covered with brownish scales and with beady eyes, and let’s not forget their tail, hovering behind them, and known as a potent weapon they used whenever in need. They wore long, dark tunics that covered their bodies and several golden accessories, and the highest the rank the more accessories they would wear.
But the Slythonians weren’t warriors; they preferred to let others fight while they dedicated their time to search the galaxies for the best slaves they could find. Their reputation as the best traders wasn’t built on words but on facts. They possessed the fastest spaceships and the best technology known in all the galaxies that money could buy. They were able to travel through space and time, likes others would cross the street to get to their homes.
Coming from a small planet, without lofty ambitions, they had become the most known merchants in all galaxies, who stopped at nothing to get what they wanted, providing their clients with all they needed, no matter what that was.
For that night’s auction, they had traveled very far; to gather a good group of specimens they were sure would sell quickly.
“Yes, Captain Rurik. They all have been collared and prepare,” the trainer answered, bowing to his captain.
“Show them to me.”
“Of course, Captain Rurik,” he opened the gate leading to the slave cells and stepped aside to allow his Captain to go in.
A long row of specialized cells sealed with metallic vertical bars and containing a simple bunker and small bathroom facilities lodged females from a few different species. Most of them had been purchased from their families, but others had simply been abducted.
They only looked for humanoid slaves. Even species like theirs seemed to be more attracted to that kind of females, so amongst their slaves, you wouldn’t find women such as the Slythonians, unless, of course, a customer would specifically, ask for them.
“We have an excellent group this time,” the captain said as they walked down the hallway, pointing at the naked bodies of the slaves imprisoned in the cells.
“Yes, Captain.”
They reached the cells where they kept one of the two human females.
“Open the cell,” the captain ordered, approaching the female in it.
“Stand up for inspection, slave,” Eskol ordered the woman, and she reluctantly got up.
“These Earthlings… I believe we should remove their body hair, permanently,” the captain suggested, observing her thoroughly, as he ran a finger through the woman’s arms, belly, and mound. “They don’t add anything to their bodies.”
“Very well, we shall do it immediately.”
“When did you capture these ones?” the captain asked, with a slight frown, barely perceptible under the scales covering his face.
“In the year 2140, captain. May I know why do you ask?”
“Look at them, Eskol. They look practically the same. The same hair color, the same eyes’ color, the same body type… are they related?” the captain pointed out.
“No, captain. They were abducted in different continents. Earthlings have been experimenting with genetic improvement,” the slave master explained. “I guess that’s why they all started to look alike.”
“When did they start doing that?”
“According to our data, around the year 2100, captain.”
“We must stop going to the future then. These females are too dull to interest our customers,” the captain ordered.
“Who are you? Who gave you the right to bring us here?” the woman ranted furiously in response to the observations.
“Shut up, female, you are not entitled to question us,” Eskol ordered the woman.
“I won’t be shut up by you, you disgusting lizard,” as soon as the words came out of her mouth, the collar she had wrapped around her neck discharged some kind of drug into her body that immediately paralyzed the woman and inflicted excruciating pain, making her fall to the floor.
The captain lets out a cruel laugh. “Eskol, didn’t you explain to them the function of the collar?” he asked, turning to look at his man while crouching next to the helpless female.
“Of course, I did, Captain. I believe she chose not to believe in me.”
Rurik grabbed a full fist of the woman’s hair and pulled her head up, forcing her to face him. “The collar you’re wearing will react that way every time you chose to disobey a direct order, female. Here, you are nothing more than merchandise, meant to answer questions, not ask them. Is that clear to you now?”
The woman whimpered, as the drugs’ effect washed off, and nodded.
He dropped her hair and stood up.
“It is time to ring them,” he ordered the slave master. “Our customers will soon be here.”
“Very well, captain. We shall proceed immediately.”
The captain nodded and left the room.
Eskol called his assistants and one by one, they took the females out of their cells and inserted small metallic rings on the female’s left nipple. It was the Slythonians’ brand, and all of their slaves carried one. Most masters would remove it after the purchase, but meanwhile, it was the traders’ way to identify their merchandise.
The ring also carried a tracking device, in case some of the merchandise was stolen from the traders.
Once the ring was inserted, Eskol proceeded to remove the human female’s body hair, leaving them with just their blonde manes, falling down their backs. The slaves were finally ready for the auction, and the customers were starting to arrive.
The cells were opened, and he ordered them to form a line.
Quickly, all of the females obeyed, none too anxious to experience the fate of the human female.
“You shall follow my orders, immediately and in silence. I don’t want to hear any cries or whimpers. Are we clear?” he asked, with a stern tone.
“Yes, sir,” the answers came promptly.
“You will be taken to the auction room, and you shall wait there until you are summoned to the center of the stage,” he explained. “Don’t even try to escape, because your collars are programmed to stop any intent you make, and in addition to the pain you will feel, you will be severely punished for it. Are we clear?” he asked again.
“Yes, sir.”
Eskol turned to one of his men and asked him to take the women to the auction room before he turned one last time to face the slaves. “I expect your best behavior. Don’t you dare to make me look bad in front of my superiors or the customers.” The threat sounded even more ominous in his hissing tone, and no female would even dream in dismissing it.
They left the room following the other Slythonian and Eskol joined Captain Rurik on the transportation room, where the customers were being expected.
“Ah, Eskol, our first customers are arriving,” Captain Rurik informed when his slave master approached.
“Right on time, captain. The slaves are ready and waiting in the auction room.”
“Perfect.”
Warriors and dignitaries from all the galaxies around arrived at the Slythonian’s mothership. They liked to use their ship for these auctions because their planet was in a remote area of the galaxy and few customers would travel that far for a simple auction.
Captain Rurik was about to abandon the transportation room to start the auction when an unexpected customer was announced.