they
had technologies, some of the finest in the galaxy, they preferred to do many
things the way their ancestors of old did. They did not use any type of craft
for surface travel on their planet. They preferred to use their shifted beast
forms or that of domesticated animals. It was kinder to their planet.
They’d
seen too many planets fall victim to their own advancements to want to see the
beauty of Ralen snuffed out.
He spotted
Lorne with Jaston and the team of Ralenium men all armed and surrounding the
landing pad. They stayed back a safe distance, already knowing what would come
next.
There was
a flash of red light, and then a popping noise signaling the main control tower
was now in control of the vessel’s power and its system. There was no chance
the vessel could fire upon them this way and zero chance it could leave without
permission.
Lorne
motioned to Garon and then pointed to the vessel’s side symbol.
As Garon
suspected—Voxenites.
If they
came bearing anything other than women, they would find the men ready to hang
them by their scaly, webbed feet. None of the Ralenium men thought much of the
Voxenites. They were a means to an end. Nothing more.
The ship
sputtered to a stop, its engines cutting out with a loud groan. Garon sighed.
If the ship refused to start back up, there was no way the traders would be welcome
to stay until it was fixed.
Garon moved with a quickened pace in the direction
of Jaston and the other on-duty guard team. Jaston nodded and then hurried into
the main control center.
If their suspicions
proved true and the ship carried women, then it was a joyous day. If not, then
the security team needed to be prepared. One never knew what one might
encounter this far on the edges of the galaxy. Often the area was looked upon
as lawless. Often it was.
Garon left
the landing bays and entered the main control center and found Jaston near the
monitor booth. The relays from the outer towers were no doubt reaching the main
control center. Jaston glanced up and made eye contact with Lorne.
“Does Garon
have orders?”
Lorne took
a deep breath. “He does. Be prepared with your men and ready to greet our
visitors.”
“Of
course,” answered Jaston, his expression knowing. He relayed the message to one
of the men closest to him and then covered the distance between him and Lorne.
Jaston lowered his voice. “Traders with females?”
“Garon
thinks perhaps it might be.”
Jaston’s
jaw set. He nodded and stepped away.
Lorne knew
the warrior would show no signs of hope. He knew Jaston was too seasoned to
ever let on to his true feelings. All the men were desperate for more women to
arrive. This wasn’t news. It was fact. None would risk getting their hopes up.
Not yet.
Chapter Two
The ship
thundered and then sputtered to a stop as it landed. Teon pushed at the rusted
walls of her cell, frantically looking around, wondering when the slave traders
would come for her. She was no fool. She knew what they were. They weren’t true
Galactic Guards. They may have the badge and weapons, but under it all they
were slave traders, pure and simple. Her hands, long since bruised and cut from
the conditions of her cell, bled more as they scraped over the rough walls. She
whimpered, the bite of pain a harsh reminder of her living conditions.
At least
she was clean finally and out of the rags they’d been keeping her in. The
traders had forced all the women into one large bathing chamber where they set
about decontaminating them.
Her lips
curled.
They
wanted their goods clean and presentable. She’d been wrongfully accused of a
crime, whisked away on a ship to be sent to a correctional facility in the far
reaches of space, and then, before she reached her destination, her holders
made a stop, selling her and so many of the other woman to the slave traders
for nearly nothing.
Teon
lowered her gaze. She could cry. The tears were there, ready and willing to
fall but they’d do
had technologies, some of the finest in the galaxy, they preferred to do many
things the way their ancestors of old did. They did not use any type of craft
for surface travel on their planet. They preferred to use their shifted beast
forms or that of domesticated animals. It was kinder to their planet.
They’d
seen too many planets fall victim to their own advancements to want to see the
beauty of Ralen snuffed out.
He spotted
Lorne with Jaston and the team of Ralenium men all armed and surrounding the
landing pad. They stayed back a safe distance, already knowing what would come
next.
There was
a flash of red light, and then a popping noise signaling the main control tower
was now in control of the vessel’s power and its system. There was no chance
the vessel could fire upon them this way and zero chance it could leave without
permission.
Lorne
motioned to Garon and then pointed to the vessel’s side symbol.
As Garon
suspected—Voxenites.
If they
came bearing anything other than women, they would find the men ready to hang
them by their scaly, webbed feet. None of the Ralenium men thought much of the
Voxenites. They were a means to an end. Nothing more.
The ship
sputtered to a stop, its engines cutting out with a loud groan. Garon sighed.
If the ship refused to start back up, there was no way the traders would be welcome
to stay until it was fixed.
Garon moved with a quickened pace in the direction
of Jaston and the other on-duty guard team. Jaston nodded and then hurried into
the main control center.
If their suspicions
proved true and the ship carried women, then it was a joyous day. If not, then
the security team needed to be prepared. One never knew what one might
encounter this far on the edges of the galaxy. Often the area was looked upon
as lawless. Often it was.
Garon left
the landing bays and entered the main control center and found Jaston near the
monitor booth. The relays from the outer towers were no doubt reaching the main
control center. Jaston glanced up and made eye contact with Lorne.
“Does Garon
have orders?”
Lorne took
a deep breath. “He does. Be prepared with your men and ready to greet our
visitors.”
“Of
course,” answered Jaston, his expression knowing. He relayed the message to one
of the men closest to him and then covered the distance between him and Lorne.
Jaston lowered his voice. “Traders with females?”
“Garon
thinks perhaps it might be.”
Jaston’s
jaw set. He nodded and stepped away.
Lorne knew
the warrior would show no signs of hope. He knew Jaston was too seasoned to
ever let on to his true feelings. All the men were desperate for more women to
arrive. This wasn’t news. It was fact. None would risk getting their hopes up.
Not yet.
Chapter Two
The ship
thundered and then sputtered to a stop as it landed. Teon pushed at the rusted
walls of her cell, frantically looking around, wondering when the slave traders
would come for her. She was no fool. She knew what they were. They weren’t true
Galactic Guards. They may have the badge and weapons, but under it all they
were slave traders, pure and simple. Her hands, long since bruised and cut from
the conditions of her cell, bled more as they scraped over the rough walls. She
whimpered, the bite of pain a harsh reminder of her living conditions.
At least
she was clean finally and out of the rags they’d been keeping her in. The
traders had forced all the women into one large bathing chamber where they set
about decontaminating them.
Her lips
curled.
They
wanted their goods clean and presentable. She’d been wrongfully accused of a
crime, whisked away on a ship to be sent to a correctional facility in the far
reaches of space, and then, before she reached her destination, her holders
made a stop, selling her and so many of the other woman to the slave traders
for nearly nothing.
Teon
lowered her gaze. She could cry. The tears were there, ready and willing to
fall but they’d do
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