He awoke with a start, his senses dull and distant. At his attempt to move he was met by intense pain all over. His eyes were swollen shut. The young Wolvrun groaned as he came in consciousness, struggling to place where he was, or why he was hurting so badly. Slowly his hearing began to return. At first it was quiet, but as the sounds made their way to him, he heard soft, hushed conversations and the occasional cough in the distance.
The Wolvrun struggled to sit up, however, his body would not budge. His head pounded violently like a thousand ceremonial drums. He groaned again, giving in to the fatigue his body faced. The young Wolvrun fell unconscious once more.
The next time he woke he felt a cool, wet sensation against his lips. The liquid slowly poured into his jowl and to his throat. He swallowed slowly, taking in the delicious nectar. It was the most delicious drink he had ever tasted. Suddenly a sharp pain stabbed across his chest, causing the young Wolvrun to cough violently.
“Don’t drowned the boy!” A voice scolded in a hushed tone.
A soft feminine voice replied, “I’m sorry, my hand slipped and I poured too much.”
In a huff, the first voice quickly replied, “Hand me that water before you kill the poor fool.”
The young Wolvrun groaned, this time opening his eyes. They were still swollen, however, he could get them open enough to see. Dark, blurred figures stood over him. He struggled to bring his vision into focus.
“He’s awake!” The second, soft voice blurted enthusiastically. The Wolvrun could see that it came from the figure hovering over him. His eyes still struggling to bring clarity to his sight. He tried to sit up, yet again he was met with the same pain and soreness as the time before. His back flopped onto the ground, forcing another groan from the wolf.
“Don’t over exert yourself,” the first figure said, “You’re lucky to be alive after the beating they gave you.”
Groaning again, the young wolf spoke, “What the hell happened to me?” His vision finally bringing detail into the world. The first figure came into view. It was an older Terran male. Judging by his physique, he must have been in his mid-forties. His face was rough and worn. His eyes soft and tired. He stared down at the young Wolvrun with a look of disdain and pity.
“They made an example of you, kid.”
The Wolvrun turned his head, fighting back the urge to cough. The second figure was sitting next to him. She smiled as their eyes met. Her grey fur sat softly upon her body. Her ears sitting smartly and alert on top of her head. A soft, pink hue could be seen underneath the grey. The young Wolvrun female extended her hand, placing her palm in between the young male’s ears. She stroked gently, petting the hurt Wolvrun in a gesture of reassurance. She couldn’t have been much older than fourteen. Wincing in pain, the young male turned back to the Terran.
“They pulled you in front of us all the night that you got here,” the man spoke, “they beat you bloody, warning us all that they wouldn’t hesitate to do us the same if we stepped out of line.” The man sighed, “Like I said, you’re lucky to even be breathing right now.”
“How long have I been like this?” The Wolvrun asked. He breathed shallowly and grimaced in pain.
“It’s been three days…” the girl replied, “James and I didn’t think you were going to make it.”
“You probably wouldn’t have made it if Serene didn’t insist on taking care of you,” The Terran retorted, “No one else here was going to.”
The Wolvrun turned his head, catching eyes with the young woman. “Serene?” She smiled at him again. She was cute, he thought to himself. “Thank you.” The young males statement caused the girl to blush slightly, diverting her eyes in embarrassment.
“What…” she hesitated, “What is your name?”
“Talrean,” the Wolvrun replied. He smiled back at Serene until another round of sharp pains surged through his body. Talrean groaned again, diverting his view back to the high ceiling above him. The sunlight showed through cracks and breaks. Judging by the angle it was mid-afternoon. Talrean took a deep sigh, trying to relax as best as he could through his injuries. In that moment Talrean’s thoughts caught up to him. As if the synapses finally connected, his brain clicked. The sudden realization caused him to completely sit up, his pains instantly forgotten.
“No one else?” He looked around. All throughout the room sat hundreds of people. All different classes and species of persons congregated in various groups. Ages ranged from the very young, to the ever old. Talrean turned to James, asking the Terran, “Where the hell am I? What the hell is going on?!”
James said nothing in reply, turning his gaze to the ground and shaking his head. Talrean’s eyes widened as he came to another realization. He quickly turned, staring intensely at the young serene.
“You… You’re naked!” He sputtered, “Both of you… everyone. Why is everyone naked?!”
He glanced down at himself, his clothing was nowhere to be found. He was exposed like everyone else. “Why… Why am I naked?!” His breathing had increased with every word. By this point the young Wolvrun was hyperventilating.
Serene sat next to him, her arms and legs trying to cover her exposed body as best as she could. She was no longer smiling. Tears began to pool and run down her face, dampening the fur on her cheeks. She looked away from Talrean.
“I’m sorry,” she said, choking back tears, “I’m so sorry.”
The girl sniffled, wiping away some of the moisture from her eyes. “You… We are all to be sold,” the girl stated, her voice distant and disconnected, “we are in the black market… We are being sold as slaves.” Serene covered her eyes, no longer holding back her cries and tears.
The reality of it all it Talrean like a freight liner, and with it, all the pains from his injuries. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, his head and back smacking the dirt with a thump.
The Wolvrun had blacked out.
********************************************************************************************
The dark hooded figure stared at the Wolvrun ship captain. Any facial expressions hidden behind the black mask and oxygen regulator remained a mystery. The crowd around them waited with baited breath for some kind of reply to the fool’s proposition. The many patrons glared upon the mysterious Aietos. The tension in the building had grown tenfold, and even the jukebox had stopped, leaving the room in a suspenseful silence.
Emotionlessly, without a single word, the tall, black Aietos gave a single nod of approval. The Tavern crowd burst into cheer. If debauchery and beer was the favored sport of the patrons, violence and death came as a close second, and tonight must have been the championship round.
Already, the drunkards were placing bets. Most were simple, betting on how long the wolf would last. The others weren’t so kind, betting on how the Wolvrun would die, or whether or not he would lose control of his bodily functions upon death.
Not a single patron bet in the ship captain’s favor.
Nephadius grinned at the Terran barmaid, “Well then, let’s get this show on the road!”
The woman wasn’t particularly happy with the idea of having a dead Wolvrun in her tavern. She remembered the last time something like this happened, and the thought of having to clean up so much blood again wasn’t all too encouraging. Nevertheless, the Terran stepped back behind the bar and started to prepare the deadly drink.
“Keela,” the woman stated.
“Yes Ms. Felicia?” the small, yellow Lago replied.
“Run to the back room and get the bio-scrubber,” Felicia sighed, “I’m not having my tavern a mess when this fool dies.”
“Yes Ms. Felicia,” Keela said as she scuffled into the employee only section of the bar.
Felicia always hated Red-120. Her dad’s invention of the liquor and the gimmick that no one was tough enough to handle the drink always came to her as a cheap trick to draw patrons into the bar. The only upside to the brew was that it offered protection from the cities gangs. Since no one had ever beaten the challenge, O’Manigan’s had become uncontested territory. In fact, the tavern was one of the only locations in the city where rival gangs and syndicates sat together without prejudice. To Charles O’Manigan, everyone was equal. No one was tough enough for his brew. It just so happened that everyone agreed.
When Felicia added the final ingredients to the mixture of liquor on top of the bar the liquid fizzed intensely. It glowed a bright red, illuminating the bar around the glassed concoction. Nephadius removed the worn leather coat he wore, setting it behind him as he climbed onto the bar stool. The crowd behind him quickly fell silent.
“Well?” He asked smugly to Felicia. The grin on his face never faltering or fading.
The Terran barmaid stared at the Wolvrun. She sighed again, then shrugged her shoulders, “If you want to sprint to your grave, wolf, then so be it.”
With that, Nephadius grabbed the glass vial in hand, turned to the crowd, and downed the drink. The bar exploded in a roaring cheer, beginning their countdown. The white Wolvrun faced the crowd and laughed. At the five second mark that all changed.
His hearing left him first. The sound of the crowd faded until it was replaced by a loud, constant ringing. The noise was unbearable, but the wolf managed to fight the urge to cover his ears.
At ten seconds, his vision clouded red. The feeling of hot magma boiled in his brain, slowing oozing through his skull and out of his eye sockets. His was was melting from the inside out. The pain, inconceivable.
When the fifteen second mark hit, time seemingly stopped. The Wolvrun sat staring at the crowd, cheers and motion suspended in time. His flesh burning under his fur. He wanted to peel the skin from his bones. He wanted to scream in pain. Nephadius, sitting, unable to move, stared out at the bar in excruciation for an eternity. The wolf was in hell. His own, personal, hell.
After decades, time resumed at a staggering pace. The Wolvrun lurched forward, the metallic taste of blood flooding into his gullet. His chest pounded, wanting to explode. He clenched his jaw tightly, blood dripping from the corner of his lips. Twenty five seconds had passed. Nephadius gripped his stomach, keeling over slightly. The sound of the bar bursting back into existence.
“Five!” They counted.
“Four!” The white wolf fell from the bar stool, barely catching himself as his boots hit the ground.
“Three!” He stifled a cough, spewing blood into the air in front of him.
“Two!” The Wolvrun dropped to a knee.
“One!” His heart stopped.
The crowd fell silent once more. They all stared down at the Wolvrun. He was propped on one knee, his head hung low, eyes closed. Blood flowed in a steady dribble from his maw, spattering and pooling on the floor below.
“Did… Did he make it?” One patron asked.
“Is he dead?” Inquired another.
“He’s…he’s shaking,” A third replied.
The Wolvrun was convulsing, his shoulders and chest twitching rapidly. It started as a low, wheezing sound, but in almost an instance the wolf burst into laughter. The crowd watched the Wolvrun in disbelief. Nephadius stood in front of the patrons and laughed uncontrollably. His white fur was stained red by the blood that had excreted from his eyes. His mouth still dropping the bloody, saliva mixture onto the floor as he laughed.
“Well that was unpleasant,” Nephadius chuckled. The tavern was motionless, jaws unhinged at the sight.
The wolf wiped the blood from his lips and grabbed his jacket, turning and heading for the door. The black clad Aietos following behind him. The Wolvrun turned and looked at the Terran woman who stared back at him in disbelief as well.
“Give Charles my regards.”
And with that, they were gone.
********************************************************************************************
The breeze was cool as it flowed through his fur. He splashed a basin of water onto his face, washing away the crimson streaks that strained him. Nephadius took a swig of water into his mouth swished, and spit out the last remnants of any blood that remained. He shivered as the air pulled the warmth from his body. He quickly shook, flinging off the excess moisture, leaving his fur slightly damp and puffed up. He appeared in no pain, completely unaffected by the onslaught he just endured. Aietos stood nearby, waiting patiently for the Wolvrun to finish. The figure stood in silence, completely unmoved and emotionless. The tall, dark being stood as a stature. Nephadius’s curiosity was afire once more, but he knew that this was not the time, nor place to seek answers. The Wolvrun wiped the last of the water from his face, turned, and continued down the alleyway the two had stopped in. They emerged into a busy street full of shady vendors peddling their wares. They were in the beginnings of the black market.
“I hope you don’t mind,” the wolf stated, turning his head over his shoulder to address the figure behind him, “There are a few things I need to purchase before we disembark.”
Aietos wasn’t in much of a position to argue or protest, so the figure nodded once again indicating approval. Together the two made their way deeper into the heart of the criminal bazaar.
The market was full of all walks of life. Persons of all species loitered and browsed, occasionally haggling with the dealers. There were arms merchants, drug dealers, fences of stolen goods, and the odds and ends shops selling every form of contraband imaginable. If it was illegal, rare, or stolen, it could be found here. The area was alive and as eventful as it was every night. Purchases could be heard all around. The sly voices of the merchants cheating their buyers out of every credit possible filled the air. Periodically gunshots were heard nearby and in the distance, ending whatever form of disagreement that had arisen in the dealings.
Nephadius and Aietos moved through the bazaar purchasing various Knicks and Knacks. Nothing too illegal or questionable, just rare odds and ends. The most curious purchase the wolf made was the bulk supply of overcharged energy crystals. He bought a supply that would last a frigate hundreds, if not thousands of years space travel at max velocity. Why he purchased so much would usually be questioned, but when sufficient credits were produced, the vendors ceased to ask such questions. In the market, currency spoke for itself.
The odd couple made their way towards the end of the mall, waving off desperate shop owners. It was clear that the Wolvrun had found what he came here for and was merely making his way back to the porn. The merchants scoffed and yelled obscenities at the pair as they walked by, blatantly ignoring the business around them. The ship captain wasn’t about to waste any more of his time buying junk he didn’t need.
As they reached the end of the market, a bright, flashing sign caught the Wolvrun’s eye. It was attached to a large, dark, windowless building. On the outside stood a single, large Rhintok guard. The sign flashed the word ‘Auction’, bursting in a menagerie of fluorescent colors, meant to specifically attract attention.
Nephadius turned to Aietos, “Care to make one last stop?”
Aietos stood unmoved in silence.
“I’ll take that as being not an issue.”
Nephadius sighed. Getting this mystery of a being to speak would be a harder objective than he first anticipated.
The two set off, moving towards the auction house and its thuggish guard. The Rhintok noticed the two walking towards him and grunted in disdain, “Two thousand credits per person, per entry, this is non-negotiable and non-refundable.”
“Two thousand? What kind of Droggah Sh’I’ are you selling in there?” The Wolvrun retorted, bucking his chest up, looking over the Rhintok in disgust.
The guard’s lip curled in anger, “Non-negotiable. Non-refundable. I shall not repeat myself again, Dog”
Nephadius locked eyes with the brute, staring intensely for a couple seconds. Finally he gave in, there would be no haggling with this beast. He swiped his credit token to the door. It flashed green in approval and the door slid open. Nephadius grumbled at having to spend the money for entrance.
“Thank you for your patronage,” The Rhintok laughed, “Enjoy your time at the auction.”
Nephadius and Aietos stepped inside. The door closed with a thunk behind them, sealing them inside the black market auction house. The Wolvrun sighed and made his way further in. The tall dark figure following closely behind.
Auction houses were famous among the aristocracy and higher class citizens. Pnushalbor had its share of rich and powerful clientele, so the auction house had its fair share of use throughout the day. A black market auction was highly uncommon though. Something of significance must have been up for grabs.
Aietos and Nephadius made their way to one of the auction booths, taking their seats and facing the stage. A Gek dressed in a show tuxedo stood on the platform, waiting for the patrons to take their seats. After a few minutes the blue-green scaled gecko spoke.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen! Welcome,” the Gek cleared his throat, “Tonight we have many magnificent items, most extraordinarily rare, some explicitly illegal, and all available for purchase.”
The dapper dressed announcer took a step back, extending his lengthy arms to point at the many screens above the stage.
“Above and all around the current item and price will be displayed.” The screen zoomed in on the Gek, displaying a price of negative ten credits. The unseen crowd laughed in response. It was a dull joke, but it grabbed the patron’s attention.
“When you desire to bid, place your credit token in the panel in front of you and hit the red bidding buzzer. When your bid has registered, and you are the highest bidder, your panel will highlight a green hue, like so.”
The announcer hit a portable red buzzer. A nearby booth lit up a light green indicating a bid within the large auditorium. The other booths maintained their light blue glow. The Gek continued his speech.
“When outbid, your booth will turn red.”
He hit the buzzer again. A separate nearby booth glowed green, leaving the original example booth the red color he had just described.
“If you do not bid, your booth will remain blue,” The Gek cleared his throat again, “At the end of bidding, all booths will revert back to blue to indicate the start of the next item and round of bidding.”
The tuxedoed announcer hit the button once more, changing the example booths back to the light blue that the remainder of the auditorium booths held.
“So, without further delay, let the bidding begin!”
The announcer backed off the stage as the curtains parted, revealing the first item up for auction. It was a rare colored Droggah, well groomed, and sure to fetch a high price from collectors. Booths all around began to change colors between red and green. The credit indicator rose sharply with each bid.
Overall the auction was lackluster. Nothing was catching the Wolvrun’s interest. The tall Aietos was wholly uninterested besides him as well.
“What a waste of credits,” Nephadius said out loud.
They had been sitting for about an hour, and boredom was beginning to set in. Nephadius stood from his chair and prepared to leave when the announcement of the next lot of items struck his ears. He lunged at the balcony, nearly hanging over. His eyes glued to the stage before him. The curtain pulled back revealing seven to ten bodies inside a cage. The species, as well as gender and age varied. The announcer came over the intercom once again.
“Tonight we have twenty-three lots of well kept, able bodies slaves,” the screens zoomed in, showing the caged persons in greater detail, “We’ll start the bidding at 100,000 credits per lot. You may begin bid--.”
“Three hundred million for all of the lots!”
The announcer was cut off by the shout. The crowd stumbling from a dull roar to a soft murmur.
“I beg your pardon?” the auctioneer queried, stepping out onto the stage, peering into the audience. The hushed murmurs quelled to silence.
“Three hundred million, for all the slaves,” Nephadius yelled into the room. For the first time that evening a sound came from the mysterious Aietos. It sounded like a gasp of surprise. The Wolvrun was too focused to have noticed the slight change in his companion.
“Sir… What kind of mockery are you trying to make of this auction?” The Gek huffed, “You cannot make false claims to bids, such as that ludicrous amount!”
Nephadius grabbed his credit token from inside of his jacket and slammed it into the bidding panel. After punching a couple of keys on the keypad he slammed his fist down on the bidding buzzer. His booth lit up green. The screen flashed the bid amount. Three hundred million appeared on the display. Verified. Sufficient funds.
Multiple gasps were heard around the auditorium. The hushed conversations returned. The Gek was pale, the sight of verification causing him to choke on his words.
“I… I apologize sir, “The Gecko shuttered, “Let the bidding begin at three hundred million… for all of the lots.”
It was nearly silent throughout the building. The auctioneer looked around, waiting for another booth to light up green. None of the other booths lit up or changed. No one spoke up or counter bid. For the first time ever the auction house stood still, a single bid stopping it in its tracks.
Beads of sweat poured from the Gek’s forhead. He looked around in desperation for another bidder. None were to be found.
“Going once,” The Gek said hesitantly.
“Twice,” he peered throught the auditorium. The silence so intense that the roar of the streets outside could be heard.
“Sold to the gentleman in the green booth.” The crowd clapped in its customary congratulations. Many patrons peered up at the green booth in attempt to view the exorbitantly rich bidder, but by the time their eyes found their targets, it was already empty.
Nephadius stamped hurriedly down the corridor to the collections booth. Aietos glided behind him, matching his pace.
A tuxedoed Wolvrun stood at the desk. His fur was brown and he wore a bearlike expression across his face. He was rather surprised to see patrons so early, the auction wasn’t set to end for another hour or so.
“Is the auction already over?” He asked rhetorically, looking over the white, flustered, Wolvrun in front of him, “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
Nephadius glared at the bearlike Wolvrun unenthused, “No, this is my first time on this planet. Now are you going to let me put the delivery order on my purchase or not?”
The tuxedoed Wolvrun glanced back and forth between the white Wolvrun and the tall masked figure beside him. It was clear that the two had very little patience for any further small talk. It was also clear that the Wolvrun was becoming perturbed with the brown, tuxedoed employee. It was in his best interest to delay no further.
“Your credit token sir,” the bearlike Wolvrun said, extending his hand, palm up, to Nephadius. He reached into his jacket, pulling out the token and placed it into the employee’s hand. The brown Wolvrun took the token and placed it into his terminal. After a few moments the token lit up green and the order appeared on the screen. The Wolvrun’s eyes widened. He blinked in disbelief.
“There must be some sort of mista—“. Nephadius cut the Wolvrun off before he could finish, “There is no mistake, that is my order, and I want it delivered to my ship immediately.”
Nephadius pulled out his docking card, handing it to the Wolvrun behind the desk, “She’s the QXR Inoya, docked at Port F, Hangar 35.” The Wolvrun swiped the card on the terminal, the ship information matched.
“Your…goods will be delivered within two hours,” the tuxedoed Wolvrun said, handing the card and token back to Nephadius.
The wolf snatched his belongings and turned heel, quickly making for the exit.
“Thank you for your,” they were already gone, “Patronage… Prick.”
The bearlike Wolvrun looked around the empty room, the subtle sounds of the auction filled the air around him. He didn’t know what to make of what just happened. Alle he knew was that his boss was about to be a very rich, and very happy Rhintok. He should have been excited, they had just scored big, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. He swore that the white Wolvrun was familiar, he just couldn’t place from where.
At that moment some other patrons released themselves from the auditorium and approached his desk. The bearlike Wolvrun turned the nice guy act back on and went to work, forgetting about his encounter with the white wolf and his tall, dark companion.
“Your credit token, Ma’am,” the Wolvrun said, extending his hand, palm up, to the approaching patrons.
********************************************************************************************
The dark cover of night slowly brightened as the coming day crept around the corner. All throughout the city the bustle of the night began to fade. Lights turned off signaling the approaching morning, the black market merchants had packed up and dispersed, and the last of the drunks stumbled to their homes or jobs after last call from all of the taverns. Soon the honest merchants and store owners would be open. A new, bright day, yet exactly like the last.
Felicia stood behind her bar and polished glasses. Her feet and back were sore from standing, but she was otherwise content. Keela, the small, yellow Lago scurried around, wiping off tables and cleaning the messes from the night before. Sven and Otto, the two Rhintok bouncers, sat near the door, sharing their last drink of the evening in merriment. It was just another morning in O’Manigan’s, same as the last.
The employee door in the back of the tavern swung open, through it stepped a Terran man. He looked ancient and wore a plaid vest.
“Good morning Mr. Charles!” Keela blurted, her fluffy tail waggling out of excitement.
“Good morn’ to yah princess Kee,” the old man replied. The bunny blushed, then hastily returned to work.
The two Rhintoks raised their glasses and spoke in unison, “Good Morning Chuck!”
The old man turned to the two and grinned, “Aye, it would be a good morning if I didn’t have to look at yer ugly mugs!”
The Rhintoks laughed, clinking their glasses in cheers and returning to their drinking. The old man walked across the room, stopping in front of the Terran barmaid, “Good morning Fel.”
Felicia continued to polish the glasses. After a moment she noticed that the old man was headed nowhere fast. She gave in to the earthly greeting, “Good morning, Dad.”
Charles O’Manigan smiled at his daughter. She did not smile back. “Is something troubling you child?”
The woman sighed, stepping out from behind the bar and taking a seat next to her father.
“Someone finally did it.”
The old man looked at her curiously, “Someone finally did what?”
“The Challenge, It’s been beat.”
Charles chuckled, “Well good for him! It’s about damned time someone could withstand the brew. So tell me, what did the brute look like? I bet the Rhintok son-of-a-bitch must have been the size of a Dregnar! Probably as ugly too!” The old man burst into laughter.
“It was no Rhintok… It was a Wolvrun,” Felicia replied.
The man stopped laughing, “Yer eyes must have been deceiving you lass. No Wolvrun would ever survive the drink. You’ve seen what it does to the poor fools. They turn into puddles of blood within seconds.”
Felicia shook her head. “It was a Wolvrun alright,” she said, further explaining the events from only a few hours before. The old man’s face turned to worrisome disbelief. She continued, “And as he left, he told me to give you his regards… Dad, do you know that Wolvrun?”
The old man stared across the tavern. His vision was distance and in the past. ‘Well kid, you’ve got my regards… That was the most unpleasant experience I’ve ever endured.’ Charles’s gaze fluctuated between the past and the present.
“No. It couldn’t be,” He thought out loud. He shook his head trying to shake the idea. It was too farfetched.
“Father, what are you not telling me?”
The old man stood up and looked across the empty tavern, reminiscing with the past.
“I haven’t told anyone this before, but tonight was not the first time the challenge has been beaten,” The man began, “Fifty years ago, much like your story, a Wolvrun had found his way to my bar. Just the same, the dog drank like a fish.”
O’Manigan shifted uncomfortably, “When it came time to pay up, the wolf asked for the challenge… At the time I had only just brewed Red-90, not nearly as strong as what we’ve got today, but still strong enough to knock those infernal Dregnar onto their backs. The worse it would do would knock the dog unconscious, so I saw no harm in allowing him to partake.”
“Well, what happened?” Felicia asked, sitting on the edge of her seat.
“What happened? I already told you! The damn fool won, and not only did he win, he mocked the brew when he did it!” The old man huffed furiously, “He’s the reason why I bothered spending the next ten years concocting Red-120!”
Felicia slumped back into her seat disappointed, “So there’s no way it was the same Wolvrun from today?”
“The same wolf? Fel, I was twenty-five back then, and the dog had an easy ten years on me. If it were the same Wolvrun he would be well into his eighties or nineties by now, if sill alive at all. No, it wasn’t the same Wolvrun, it was just a mere coincidence,” the man walked to the door, opening it to the bright sunlight, “That’s enough dwelling on the past though, I’ve got errands to attend to.”
The Terran woman hopped off the bar stool, quickly following her father. She looked back and addressed the Lago, “Keela, I trust you can handle finishing up and locking the tavern without my help?”
“The rabbit spring up onto her haunches and squeaked excitedly, “Leave it to me Ms. Felicia! I won’t let you down!”
Felicia turned to the two Rhintoks sitting next to the door. She kissed them both on their foreheads, “and I trust you both will see that my little Lago makes it safely home?”
The Rhintoks blushed at the affection they received, “Yes Ms. Felicia, you can count on us!”
She turned and followed her father out the door, leaving the three alone in the bar. The woman quickly caught up to Charles, who stood staring at the sky auspiciously. In the distance a frigate climbed into the atmosphere, disappearing into space.
“What trouble are you up to now you old salt dog?”
********************************************************************************************
“Gone? GONE?! What do you mean it’s all gone?!” The Rhintok screamed. Smoke spewed from his nostrils and his dark, grey hide glowed a bright, crimson hue. Krugar yellwed again, “WHERE THE FUCK IS MY MONEY?!”
A Gek stepped forward. He was drenched in a cold sweat and stuttered as he spoke, “W-we don’t k-know how it happened.” The Gek swallowed hard, “The credits were v-verified until m-m-moments ago.”
Krugar smashed his fist down onto the desk, shattering it and sending splinters flying across the room, “Why haven’t you imbeciles caught the bastard yet?!”
A Wolvrun stepped forward and spoke hesitantly, “…my contacts at the docks verified it a moment ago. The Wolvrun and the slaves are all off planet. My sources rumor that he is headed for the Ecleseon sector.”
The Rhintok sat back into his chair, his face still red with rage. He grunted, billowing out another plume of smoke, “I don’t care if the thief was headed on a collision course with the sun!” Krugar flicked his spent cigar across the room, lighting another one in a swift motion. “You find that dirty mutt and you bring him to me!”
The thugs dispersed from the room, leaving the mob boss to brood by himself in anger. The Rhintok muttered to himself heatedly, smoke steaming past his docked horn, “No one steams from Krugar and gets away with it!”
