176Hello Darlings! This fic is one of many that I am posting in an effort to figure out what project I'm going to focus on next. I'm going to post two to three chapters of several different projects I'm working on, to start. I'm looking for feedback from you dear readers to figure out which you want to see more of! My thought is, the project with the most reviews by...November 30th? Will be the one I put the most effort into! Depending on how inspired I feel, the others will get updates as well, just slower than my focus project. That's the goal anyway! We'll see how it works out! Please enjoy!
In a dimly lit, crowded bar tucked away in the Outer Reaches on a planet that was more frozen wasteland than livable space, there sat a girl. A young woman, rather. Huddled against a wall, trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible as her newest master ordered another drink at his table.
It was the kind of grimy, backwater place that attracted the unsavory and the cruel. The ones who needed a place to hideaway. Like the three who had just sauntered in like they owned the place.
The girl shivered as a blast of arctic air swept through the room, reaching all the way back to her dark corner. The leader paused in his surveillance of the other patrons, his beady eyes honing in on her new master, the Mythrol. The vibrant blue of his skin standing out like a beacon to all.
She watched as the bearded leader murmured something to his lackies before all three made their way over to her master's table, surrounding him with their menacing bulk. Her master looked up and greeted the men with a nervous smile.
"Gentlemen. If you'd like my table I was just about to pay my tab. I'll leave now if you like…" the Mythrol went to stand only for the tentacled man behind him to slam him forward onto the table with a clawed hand. The young woman looked to the barkeeper for help but the man simply stood watching, polishing an already clean glass. It was clear that as much as he wanted to help his customer, he wasn't going to confront those three felons. She didn't know what to do. If they killed her master, would she be freed? Or would she be forced to serve them? They hadn't seen her. Maybe they would simply take what they came for and leave without ever noticing that the man they were attacking held a Slave Puck in his pocket. A Slave Puck to the collar around her neck.
"Please. Please! I have credits!" Her master tried to reason with the men, but they didn't appear to speak Basic. Two of them hauled her master to his feet and their leader unsheathed a wicked looking knife. The girl turned her face away from the carnage that was about to occur just as the door whooshed open again, letting in another blast of icy wind. Sudden silence filled the smoky room.
The young woman peeked through her fingers to see an armored and helmeted man standing in the doorway. The leader of her master's attackers barked something at the man and, after a moment, the man made his way into the room, heading for the bar. She didn't know who this man was, but he looked intimidating. Would he step in to save her master or would he simply ignore the problem?
Luckily for her master, the man's sudden appearance had distracted his attackers. Continuing to speak in his foreign tongue, the leader strode over to the helmeted man, apparently to confront him. However, the helmeted man seemed content to ignore him.
"He said you spilled his drink." The barkeep translated, "It's fine. It's on me." He continued, willing to do just about anything to stop a fight from breaking out. Both men ignored him as the other two lackies dropped her master and made their way over as well.
"Here." The barkeep quickly slid a drink down the bar towards the men and suddenly all hell broke loose. The young woman pressed her back into the wall as close as she could and shut her eyes, praying that the chaos would end. She had seen so much death and destruction in her life, she couldn't bring herself to see more. Shouts and blaster shots rang out, then there was a slicing, thumping sound and silence reigned over the room once more. Ever so carefully, the young slave opened her eyes to see the helmeted man approaching her master's table. The Mythrol was naive enough to actually laugh in relief.
"Thank you. Thank you very much! You have my heartfelt gratitude." He greeted the man and was met with intimidating silence as the man continued to simply stand in front of him.
"Y-you know what? You take my credits. By yourself a drink!"
In response to this, the helmeted man set a small object on the table between them and pressed a button on it, calling forth a hologram.
"Oh. Is that a Bounty puck?"
Silence. Apparently the answer was obvious.
"Is that me?" Her master continued.
"Look. Uh...I can tell you're a hard bargaining man. You know what? I have something far more valuable than credits for you. See?" The Mythrol held out his hand and, after a long moment, the helmeted man held out his own.
The young woman watched in horror as the Mythrol dropped her Slave puck into the man's hand. Immediately on contact, a needle darted out of the puck and jabbed the helmeted man's hand causing him to hiss out a curse and drop it. As the puck analyzed the man's DNA the young woman felt the collar around her neck grow warm and vibrate slightly as it accepted the new information. The transfer was complete. The helmeted man was her new master.