Enslaved Read online

  “You will move if I sssay ssso!” Clearly infuriated, the Xethian slaver pulled out a small black remote and pointed at the Havoc.

  “No, wait!” Trin exclaimed. “I don’t want—”

  But her protest came too late. The slaver pressed the button and the big body on the platform went suddenly rigid with agony. Trin watched in horror as the Havoc’s back arched and his head snapped back in pain. Every muscle on his big frame stood out as hard as a rock and the cords in the powerful column of his throat were rigidly defined.

  The eerie thing was that he suffered in silence. Though it was clear he was in horrible pain, the Havoc never made so much as a whimper, let alone a plea for mercy. He just took it.

  “Stop! Stop it!” Trin exclaimed. “Look, his face is getting red and he can barely breathe. Stop it now, you’re hurting him! That’s too much pain!”

  “Pain is the point, my lady,” the slaver hissed malevolently. “And this ssslave needs to learn to do as I tell him if he does not want more pain than he can bear.”

  “You’re giving him more than he can bear right now!” Trin protested. “Look, he’s about to faint! He—”

  Before she could finish her words, the intractable Havoc male toppled off the platform, his entire long body going rigid, as though he was having some kind of a seizure.

  “Stop!” Trin ordered again. “You’re killing him!”

  “Why ssshould I not kill him? I will not have a ssslave who does not obey,” the slaver hissed petulantly.

  “That’s enough—I’m through asking you.” Trin doubled her fist and gave the slaver a shot to his scaly jaw. She didn’t like to resort to physical violence but she couldn’t just stand by and watch the Havoc killed on a whim. The slaver’s long, boney jawbone sent a jolt of pain through her fingers as she connected, making her wonder briefly if she might have broken one or several, but the blow had the desired effect.

  “Ssslurlesh!” It was obviously a curse in the slaver’s native tongue. He dropped the remote in surprise and it skittered across the floor. Trin ran after it. The slave’s broad back was still bowed in agony and she was afraid if she didn’t shut off the collar soon he might have permanent damage.

  The little black remote was kicked by several feet but at last she got her hands on it and hurried back to the display—only to see the slaver standing there with one three fingered hand to his scaly jaw and a couple of security Crangs flanking him.

  “This isss the one,” he said, pointing at her. “Ssshe ssstruck me with no provocation whatsoever!”

  “I had plenty of provocation,” Trin said angrily. “He’s killing his slave. Just look!” She turned with the remote ready, hoping she was pressing the right button to stop the painful pulses.

  The slave, whose entire body had been a rigid statue of pain, suddenly went limp and lay still on the metal floor. Trin ran over to him and checked his pulse. It was there—slow but steady—but he was completely out. Well, at least he’s still alive. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the huge, lumpish security Crangs who looked like they were made of cooled lava deposits.

  “See?” she demanded.

  “It does not matter what the slaver, who is the one who is the owner of this slave, was doing to his slave which he owns,” one of the Crangs pronounced laboriously. “He is the owner of the one who is called the slave, not you.”

  “Therefore, you must be the one who shall be arrested and tried in the Hub court that is called the place of law for the crimes you have committed,” the other Crang droned. “This is what is called justice.”

  “Justice?” Trin exclaimed. “Have you been smoking mindbliss weed? You can’t arrest me for keeping this scaly bastard from killing someone.”

  “He is not a someone who is having what are known as rights,” the first Crang said. “He is what is known as a slave and you are the one who is being in the wrong.”

  “Therefore, come with us,” the second one said, reaching for her.

  “Hold on a minute!” Trin knew what this meant. Those taken into custody at the Flesh Bazaar as often as not found themselves on the wrong side of the auction block when the hasty “trial” in the

  Hub Court was over. All proceeds of such sales went to line the pockets of the corrupt officials who presided over the court so they were quick to hand down a guilty verdict. Trin had no intention of being sold to the highest bidder just because the scaly son-of-a-bitch slaver was angry that she’d taken a shot at him. She took a hasty step backwards and nearly stumbled over the body of the huge Havoc who was still out like a light. It gave her an idea. “I may have overreacted,” she said, though she could barely force the words out. “But it was only because I didn’t want the slave I was intending to buy to be damaged.”

  “Buy, you sssay?” The wounded slaver perked up considerably.

  “Yes, buy,” Trin emphasized. “I’ve decided he’s the perfect slave for me. So…how much?”

  The slaver’s eyes narrowed, rendering them nothing more than yellow slits.

  “Fifty thousand credits,” he announced. “And not a sssentine less.”

  “Fifty thousand?” Trin could scarcely believe her ears. “But that’s crazy. It’s ten times what even the best, most perfectly trained slave is worth and—”

  “And you will pay or these fine Crangsss will take you to the court.” The slaver smirked at her.

  “I—” Trin began, meaning to tell him to go procreate with himself. But the Crangs were coming towards her, their lumpish, rock-like hands outstretched, ready to drag her before the “court” where she would be declared guilty at once, stripped of her clothing and all her goods, and sent to the auction block. Fifty thousand credits was her entire savings and then some but there wasn’t much she could do—she was stuck.

  “Yesss?” the slaver inquired. “You were sssaying?”

  “I was saying wrap him up.” Trin sighed. “I’ll take him.”

  Chapter Two

  “He’s groaning again.” Sidna, The Alacrity’s resident medic, frowned at the huge slave who was sprawled on a small cot.

  After wiping out her bank account to buy him, Trin had been forced to pay even more to have the security Crangs carry him aboard her ship. He was out cold—possibly brain damaged from the punishing jolts of the pain collar—and much too big and heavy for her to even try lifting or dragging on her own.

  Currently he was installed in the only spare room on The Alacrity—the small connecting cabin that linked with Trin’s own suite of rooms. The space had originally been designed for a body slave to stay in since the ship had been built on Yonnie Six. It had been empty for the entire five years she’d been captain. Now it was filled to capacity—the massive Havoc took up the entire cot and overflowed it, his muscular bulk barely leaving room for the med-bot Trin had stationed in his room for assistance and security.

  “I still think you should put him in the brig,” Sidna said. She was a small, trim woman of about fifty cycles with short, no-nonsense iron gray hair and sharp gray eyes to match. “That’s where we kept the Gox we transported last cycle.”

  “The Gox was a dangerous animal with three inch long fangs and claws like knives,” Trin objected. “We took hazard pay to transport it. This is just a slave.”

  “Don’t fool yourself, Trin—he’s a dangerous animal too.” Sidna nodded at the Havoc. “All males are but this one looks especially hazardous.”

  “You can’t tell that just from looking at him,” Trin said uneasily. At least, she hoped not although what Sidna was saying actually matched with her own first impression of the Havoc male.

  As she watched, a low groan broke from the slave’s lips and he twitched in his sleep, his face contorting into a mask of agony.

  “Do you think he’s still having pain?” Trin asked, looking at the other female.

  “Impossible to say.” Sidna shook her head. “How long did you say the pain collar was activated?” she asked.

  Trin shrugged. “Don’t kno