Chapter Text
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Murmurs from the theater, distant and rumbling, echoed through the halls; louder every minute, as Bollo's clientele awaited the start to the show. The harsh overhead lights of the asset pens blazed on, humming in that awful, cheap, florescent frequency.
Those lights were the only 'cheap' thing about Bollo's auction house. The communal pens didn't hold anything that caught Tevir's eye; but even the lowest bid for the poorliest slave was in the thousands — and here, 'poorly' was only a relative term. Any slave that made it to Bollo's auction could count themselves lucky: well fed, well kept, and made prim and presentable for the big day.
"Quiet, you!" a handler barked out, some distance away as a creature began to clamor. A smack against the bars of its solo pen did the trick. Tevir turned to the sound, wandering steps taking him there instead. Bollo, plodding away at his heels, reeked of apprehension.
It was no matter. "You owe me, Bollo," Tevir reminded him. "Quite substantially."
"Y-yes, that's true, but—"
"But?" He turned his head, staring down at the man. Abeeluses were… well, 'ugly' wasn't the correct term. Perhaps drab. All of them seemed to be a dull brown or grey, with rare exceptions like Bollo being a stark, fleshy white. They were also a round people — Bollo rounder than most, due to a life well lived — with four stubby arms and three stubby fingers on each. The man's fat tail drug on the ground behind him, and though it didn't wag, it did plop against the stone with a dry scrape as he stopped in his tracks.
"Please, Tevir. You'll have your pick of the next crop; this one is far too important! I just can't afford freebies—"
"You. Owe. Me." Tevir turned fully, near-looming over the master of the house. "I can take my debt in credits or flesh — or blood, if you will give me neither."
Bollo gulped, his throat squishing up as his gills pursed.
"If I wanted my pick of the next crop as my payment, I would have come back then."
"Tevir, please." He gulped again, and Tevir watched quietly, waiting to see how he would beg this time. "I can't afford any losses tonight. If word gets out and I have to cover the fees, I'll be lucky to break even on just getting them here. Beela mai, that isn't even starting on holding and transferring!"
A consequence of your own shortsightedness, Tevir thought. He walked on, and Bollo had the good sense to follow quietly. The further Tevir went, the more strange and wondrous the sights. A quinf with two heads (interesting, but ultimately unfeasible); a Clenix, rendered back to the quadrupedal stance of its ancestors (poor thing, bent over like that in a sector full of Vraxi); a bird that Tevir couldn't name, with bright red feathers and two grasping claws at the ending joint (noisy, and dirty. A disaster waiting to happen).
The last stall was being opened. Tevir tilted his head to the sounds of a struggle.
"Shit— gah!"
Bollo rushed ahead, stumpy legs surprisingly fast as he dashed for the stall. A loud THUNK followed by a howl of pain made the man jump back; just in time, too, as the creature vaulted free.
It was chaos after that. Shouting, whooping, cheering; a cacophony, brought on by the escape attempt. Tevir watched it, rapt. A strange little thing: scaleless, and while not hairless, the scruffy dark mop on its head was longer than its coating of thin wiry fuzz. A little muzzle kept most of its face hidden, and a wrap of black leather covered the rest. It bolted towards him, away from Bollo and the thundering boot-steps of more handlers. Lack of distance gave him an even better look at it: unusually clawed feet, with one covered in blood.
The bottom of its mag cuffs were also covered in blood.
He waited, holding for the last moment before taking a breath—
It was very, very slight, but the thing tilted its head as he did. Tevir reached to scruff it like an unruly zefn, but it shifted, pivoting and pulling its weight to one leg—
The kick hit him before he could see it coming, and it hit him hard in the side. Tevir stumbled, winded from the blow, and the creature took its chance to flee.
"Ha-Haelen!" Tevir roared, choking around lost breath, "pin!"
Silent as the void, a Clenix stepped away from the main gate to the pens. In two great bounds he was barring the thing's path, and with a mighty pounce, he had it knocked to the floor beneath him. It was strong: Tevir watched as Haelen actually had to try to wrestle it before, with a frustrated grunt, he sank his teeth into its shoulder. Even through the muzzle, Tevir could hear it scream. It thrashed even harder, only making the injury worse, scattering its crimson blood across the concrete of the thoroughfare.
Tevir stood, dusting off his robes as Bollo plodded up to him. The man's face was deathly pale, even more so than his usual pallor, and he tripped over his excuses one after another as he tried to speak. "Enough," Tevir said, glancing back to his loyal hound. The thing had stopped struggling, finally; but Haelen knew better than to let go without Tevir's say-so. "I will be taking that one with me. In exchange, I will overlook this incident."
"O-of course, Master Hefaan!"
He didn't roll his eyes, strong as the urge was.
"Haelen: sedate him, and have him cleaned up."
"At once, Master."
"Have him taken to the transport after. Oh, and bind his ankles while you're at it." He shook his head, addressing open air as much as the handlers of Bollo's house. "What were you thinking, untying those claws?"
"The little fucker undid it himself!"
At the other end of the room, one handler — bloodied, with a nasty cut on his arm and a dent in his forehead — was leaning on another. "I swear—"
"Biis," Bollo hissed, "we will discuss this later." He took a deep breath, gills fluttering as he tried to compose himself. "I am deeply, deeply sorry master Hefaan. This is most unbecoming, and I beg your forgiveness."
Abeeluses couldn't bow — not without over balancing, at least — but Bollo did his best to prostrate himself at Tevir's feet, and the effort was to be praised. "You've given me an exciting evening, and an interesting pet," Tevir said, before gesturing to Bollo to raise his head. "As said, I will overlook this incident. See that this does not occur again."
"Of course!" Bollo gulped as he offered another 'bow', before quickly turning heel to berate his underlings.
Tevir sighed, checking his clothes over once more before taking his leave. Haelen, ever-reliable, awaited him by the transport, holding the door and nodding at his approach. Tevir didn't even need to open his mouth to ask before Haelen spoke:
"Sedated and secured in the cargo hold, Master."
"Good. Prepare for trouble when we get home." He slid into the back seat, with Haelen following.
It was only when the door was fully closed that Tevir rested his head against the Clenix's shoulder. The soft fur of Haelen's mane helped ease the headache building behind his temples, and Tevir leaned into the pressure of his grip as Haelen wrapped an arm around him. From the pocket in his robes, Tevir pulled out the letter — an actual, handwritten letter, of all things! — he'd received three nights prior.
"My friend,
It is with great pleasure that I invite you once again to my auction house for an exclusive event. I have recently come into the estate of the late Dr. Farassi, and have the privilege of ensuring her slaves be sold to those of good standing. Among this collection, I believe I have something of interest for you: a human.
You need not respond; a seat has already been arranged, should you wish to claim it. I have enclosed the location, date, and time. It would bring me great honor to see you among the stands once more.
Regards,
Auctioneer Am-Amai Bollo."
Tevir folded the letter back up, and sighed as Haelen held him closer. "We'll figure it out," he rumbled, claws threatening to dig through the fine fabric of Tevir's robe. "Find out anything useful?"
He hummed. If he could get any closer to Haelen, he would; but that would require being inside the great beast, and that would have to wait. "Yes," he finally said, after curling up in preparation for the long journey home. "Bollo wasn't expecting me. He did not send that letter."