Space Crazy

by K. Rowe

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