Dar's Adventures in Space 1: Space Crazy (11 page)

They ran up two more levels. The pirates were now engaging Gwog’s group. “Hold fast, can we make any flanking move?” Gwog hollered over the noise.

“Gwog, we’re below!” Dar yelled.

“Pinch!” came the reply.

“On our way!” He tucked in behind Putchic and got ready to advance on the group above. They stormed up another level. Dar saw the pirates right above. He knew it was no time to be fair when it came to a fight. Raising his phaser, he fired several blasts right through the metal grates. Putchic followed his lead. The phasers cut through the metal and went right into the Soothians. They disappeared in a flash of light. Dar didn’t think Gwog would be upset over the damage; the ship, and the payload was far more important.

“Good shot!” Gwog called. He wasn’t sure who did it, but they eliminated the threat to the bridge. Now the crew could focus efforts on the much larger battle raging in the shuttle bay. He ran down the catwalk, dodging the holes, he saw Dar and Putchic below. “Go help the others!”

They turned and ran; the noise from the battle seemed to be dying out. Dar wasn’t sure who was really winning. There weren’t as many blasts rocking the ship, and the disruptor fire below lessened. It felt like total chaos. Somewhere behind him were Gwog and the others. Dar ran so hard he stumbled and fell. Putchic grabbed him, yanking him to his feet. They hurried down four more levels until they reached the floor of the shuttle bay.

Dar took one look and the carnage. For some reason, Ethoic, Pthoic, and Tregis didn’t have their phasers set to what Dar jokingly called “crispy critter” setting, and quite a few pirates lay in pools of blood either dead or dying. “Tregis? Ethoic? Pthoic?” He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. A pirate was trying to make an escape. Without hesitation, he fired and vaporized the Soothian. Putchic went along dispatching any pirates he found alive. Dar ran over to where he last saw Tregis. A small burnt pile of ashes were all that remained of his friend. A disruptor had found its mark.

“Ethoic? Pthoic?” Dar called. The twins were formidable opponents in battle, surely they survived, he thought, making a sweep of the bay. After a few minutes of searching, all he found were two more piles of ash. He stood where he thought Pthoic had fallen.

Gwog approached. “Are you all right, little one?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He reached and took Dar’s arm, holding it up. Blood still dribbled down his hand. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Pthoic saved my life today, and I couldn’t save his.”

11

“Why are we here again?” Dar asked as they tromped through the slave auction on Uyoninis.

“We lost three valuable crew members over a month ago, and I haven’t had much luck hiring new ones…Once in a while you get lucky and find some at the auction with skills,” Gwog replied as he stopped and studied a purebred Iddrian. The species was a rare site in the galaxy, and Gwog wondered why he was at auction. “You, Iddrian, have you any skills?”

The tall, dark, brown-skinned alien looked up. He was thin and gaunt from malnourishment. His normally erect fleshy tendrils hung like dead sand worms on his head; his dark yellow eyes were hollow and had a vacant gaze to them. It was hard to believe that Iddrians were distant relatives to Elemenels. “I was a navigator on the freighter Klinnig before the pirates took her,” he replied softly.

“What have you done since?”

“Worked in a Thidium mine for the last two years.”

Gwog reached out and grabbed the Iddrian by the jaw, pulling his mouth open to check his teeth. “Hmm, don’t look too bad. Needs some good meals, but I’m sure Karnis can fatten him up.”

“So, we replace Tregis just like that?” Dar replied with dismay.

“Little one, I can’t have you running everything. Granted, you’re damn fine in navigation, but I prefer you at helm.” He put his hand on Dar’s shoulder. “I know Tregis and the twins were your friends, they were mine too; but understand I have a business to run…And someday you will too.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gwog took a scrap of paper from his pocket along with a battered scribe stylus. He took down the lot number of the Iddrian so he’d make sure to bid on him. “Come on, now we need some more deck hands.” They walked down the line of slaves. Some were chained to walls, others—the more dangerous ones, in cages. Amidst the darkness and filth, Dar saw something: a flash of green hair.

“Uh, Gwog?”

“Yes?”

“Can you wait a moment?”

“Certainly. What is it, little one?”

“I saw something.” He left Gwog and picked his way through the throng of buyers. As he neared the back of the auction building, he saw him. Chained to a wall, covered in filth sat his worst enemy: Krodus. Standing nearby were a couple of Kiburgin Hoardas. His heart leaned in two different directions. Dar hated Krodus with every shred of his being. The big bully made life hell when he was young. It would serve him right to be sold to a Hoarda and forced into sex slavery with the big, hairy, short-tempered aliens happily violating him every night. But then, a side of him also realized that Satirens were a race with declining numbers. They’d mostly left Satiris and ventured off, making small colonies on other planets or getting involved in the sex trade. Although not a purebred Satiren himself, he realized they were an endangered race, and every healthy Satiren needed to be joined with another, hopefully to save the species.

Dar strained to see the lot number scribbled on Krodus’s right arm, but he couldn’t. Would Gwog understand what he was up to? Did he even want to tell Gwog, and get talked out of it? He’d need to make up some story to keep them there until Krodus came onto the auction block. Dar wondered if he had enough drig for the purchase. Krodus looked pretty thin and emaciated; perhaps his pallid condition would make him a cheaper sale. He hoped so. Standing in the shadows for several moments, he watched Krodus. The bully never once lifted his head. Perhaps he was too weak, or perhaps his pride had been crushed. Whatever the case, Dar figured the Satiren wouldn’t sell for much. The majority of the buyers at the auction were males who owned industry or freighter captains looking for more hands to work. Krodus looked like he was ready to curl up and die.

Returning to Gwog, Dar followed along as his captain continued inspecting slaves. “What was that all about, little one?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“Come now, you’re a lousy liar.”

Dar pondered the thought of just telling the truth. Gwog had always been good to him, and they had a very trusting relationship. “Saw someone I know.”

“What? Here? At the auction?”

“Yeah. His name’s Krodus and he used to beat the shit out of me at school.”

Gwog chuckled. “Is he here being sold as a slave?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then he got his just desserts. Serves him right for making your life miserable.”

Dar swallowed hard. “Um, yeah.”

“What’s wrong, little one?”

“Can we stay and see how much he goes for?”

“What’s his lot number? Perhaps I should buy him—make him a pet for you; then you can beat on him for a change.”

“I don’t know his lot number. And I don’t think he’d be good for the crew.”

Gwog rubbed his chin. “Ah, I see.” He gave Dar a nudge. “Come, let’s get seats, the auction will start soon.”

They found a couple of seats and watched as the first lots of slaves went through. Most were smaller species like Triduns, female Nouians, and the occasional Elemenel female sold off for domestic help. Dar especially hated to see Elemenels sold, they were a wonderful species, and he liked joining with them very much. Next, came the larger aliens to the platform. Gwog took out his slip of paper and kept track, waiting for the lots he wanted. Dar looked at the slaves that were lined up waiting to go on the platform. Krodus stood about four back. He’d be up shortly. “Excuse me,” Dar said, getting up. “Need to take a leak.”

Dashing back to the auction office, he hurriedly explained his situation to the clerk, who handed him a bidding number. Dar stood at the back of the crowd and waited. He hoped he had enough drig in his pockets. When Krodus was shoved onto the platform, Dar listened. The bidding started off at two hundred drig—a rather scant sum for a purebred Satiren, who, with a few good meals, would return nicely to form.

Two-fifty, three hundred, four hundred, the bidding seemed to be coming from the front of the room. Dar strained to see two Kiburgin Hoardas flipping their numbers in the air. Dar almost wanted to laugh at his rather psychic premonition of poor Krodus’s fate. Five hundred, six hundred, seven, eight, nine, one thousand came the price. The bidding war continued.

Dar began to wonder if he’d be outbid by the Kiburgins. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of gold strips and quickly counted them. Two thousand drig was all he had. He tuned back in to the auction. The bidding war had slowed. Krodus was now valued at twelve hundred drig. Dar decided to throw his weight in. “Fifteen hundred,” he said in a deep voice, trying to disguise it from Gwog. There was a moment of silence before one of the Kiburgins raised it to sixteen hundred. “Seventeen!” Dar called. His bid was met with eighteen. Deciding it was all or nothing, he hollered: “Two thousand!”

A few mumbles were heard through the room, but no counter bid from the Kiburgins. The auctioneer looked around. “Two thousand once, twice, sold!” Dar held up his number, hoping Gwog wouldn’t see him far in the back. “Sold to number eight-one-five.” The auctioneer slammed a gavel down, and Krodus was ushered off the platform. Dar felt rather pleased about his purchase. He went back and plopped down next to Gwog.

“Ah, you missed it. Your mangy looking Satiren fetched a price of two thousand drig.”

“Oh, he did?” Dar said innocently.

“Not sure who bought him, but a couple of Kiburgins up front sure wanted to make a sex slave out of him.”

Dar chuckled. “Well, I’m sure he’ll go to a good home.”

The auction finally ended, Gwog got two of his three lots. The half breed Zumikian which had some deck skills went for more than Gwog wanted to pay. He was pleased that he’s gotten the Iddrian navigator, he’d be a big help. He hoped the Iddrian hadn’t lied about his skills; otherwise, Gwog would bring him back and sell him off. Business was business, and he didn’t have time to play games with a dishonest slave. As it was, if the Iddrian proved to be a good navigator, he’d be well treated and paid for his services. Gwog was not a lover of slavery, but when he needed personnel to run the ship, the auctions were occasionally helpful.

Standing in line to pay for his purchases, Gwog looked around and noticed Dar absent. He wondered where the little one had gone to. As he finally got to the pay table, he lay down the drig for his purchases and gave the lot numbers. The clerk wrote out a receipt and handed it to him. “You may pick up your purchases at the back dock.”

“Thank you,” Gwog said politely. Dar still had not appeared. He figured he’d catch up with him at the shuttle. As he headed to the back dock to pick up his slaves, he caught sight of Dar disappearing behind a wall. Gwog thought about going after him, but decided against it. Whatever he was up to, he obviously had a reason for his mysterious actions.

Dar waited a few minutes, occasionally peering around the corner to see if Gwog picked up his slaves. He’d been quick and was one of the first in line to pay for Krodus; now he’d wait until Gwog was gone before picking him up. He wondered if it was such a good idea. They hadn’t seen each other in more than ten years, but Dar felt certain the bad blood between them would still be fresh.

Several minutes later, Gwog walked off with his two new slaves. Dar crept out from the corner and approached the large alien handling the slaves. “Number,” the slave master said gruffly.

For a moment, Dar wasn’t quite sure what he meant. “Oh.” He dug the receipt out of his pocket. “Number fifty-six.”

“Mmm, the Satiren, huh?” He turned and then stopped. “Funny to see a half breed buying a purebred. Gonna keep him as a pet?”

“Not exactly. I have purpose for him.”

“Well, you better feed him a few good meals, otherwise he’ll keel over dead on you.”

“I intend to. Thank you.”

The slave master went back and brought out Krodus. He handed Dar the “leash”—the chain that came from the collar around Krodus’s neck. “Here you go.”

Dar studied Krodus for a moment. His spirit was so broken he didn’t even bother to acknowledge his new master.
Master
, Dar thought, here stood Krodus, the bully who made life miserable, and now he was his
master.
“Come along, slave,” Dar growled, giving the chain a yank; Krodus lurched forward, shuffling along. Heading to the shuttle, Dar hoped Gwog hadn’t gotten impatient and left him. Krodus lagged behind. “Get on with it, slave,” he said, giving another firm tug.

Krodus stopped. “Dar?”

Dar spun around. “That’s
master
to you, Krodus!”

He tried to straighten up. “Puny little half breed, whatcha gonna do to me?”

“Don’t start with me, I’m warning you.” Dar shoved him against a wall. “I’d say you owe me for
buying
you from those Kiburgins.”

“I owe you nothing.”

“Fine. Then I’ll go find one of them, sell you for a small loss, and walk away happily knowing they’re gonna bend you over a fallen Ickbahk tree and fuck you til your hair turns white.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Dar leaned close. “Oh, yes I would.”

Krodus pushed him away. Dar was quickly losing patience; he brandished his knife.

“Hey, that’s my knife,” Krodus grumbled.

He stuck the point right into Krodus’s chest. “Yes, it is. I don’t suggest you trifle with me, I’m not in the mood…And if you want your knife back…” He leaned into the blade, piercing the Satiren’s skin. “…Then I shall return it—point first.”

Krodus felt a trickle of blood run down his chest. Evidently the little half breed was far tougher now since he’d spent so much time in space. “No, that’s okay.”

“I thought you’d see it my way.” He sheathed the knife. “Now let’s go, we have a shuttle to catch.”

“What are you going to do with me?”

“I haven’t decided just yet.” Dar gave a hard snatch on the chain.

They reached the shuttle to find Gwog standing in the door. “So, what have you done, little one?” he asked, pointing to Krodus.

“I’ll explain later. Let’s get the slaves back to the ship. They need a good bathing, they stink.”

Gwog stepped aside while Dar loaded Krodus. Then they settled down in the cockpit. “Dar?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Would you explain why you bought your worst enemy?”

“Mmm, I suppose it’s torture of sorts.”

Gwog started up the engine. “Torture for whom? You or him?”

“Right now, a little of both.”