Lone Wolf

The Slave

From the transport, Kella watched the buildings flash by through the narrow ventilation slits. She was lucky to have a spot by the edge. The bodies in here were packed tightly, and it was a warm day. The smell was becoming unbearable. Sweat dripped into her stinging eyes, but it was difficult to wipe away with her manacles attached to the seat. She hunched over to bring her face closer to her fingertips. The transport unexpectedly ground to a halt and she was thrown forward, banging her elbow and giving her pins and needles all down her arm.

Voices echoed outside the metal walls. Most were guards shouting orders. The big loading door swung open and two men with tasers walked down the rows releasing magnetic locks one section at a time. From their expressions, the smell was getting to them. One kept gagging and covered his mouth with one hand. Kella hoped they threw up. When it was her turn, she filed out with the others into bright yellow sunlight. Blinded by the glare, she nearly tripped over her own feet. When her eyes adjusted, she examined her surroundings. There were other transports just like this one being unloaded nearby. Other prisoners in manacles shared the same dead look in their eyes. Other guards had the same tasers and barked out the same orders.

Kella followed the procession down the loading ramp to the dusty ground. The guards directed them into orderly lines, and she took her place next to Wyn. The two had shared a cell on the voyage here. The older woman looked a bit wilted from the heat.

"Doing okay, Wyn?" Kella whispered.

"Never better," Wyn rasped and cleared her throat. "Feels good to be back in the open air. I thought being on the ship for a week was bad, but two hours in that transport was enough to make me miss it."

The corners of Kella's mouth turned up involuntary. Wyn was tough. Kella needed to develop some toughness of her own if she was going to survive this. "Where do you think we are?" she asked.

Wyn smirked and looked up at the hazy gas giant dominating the horizon. "This moon is probably one big slave market. I've never seen one before, but I've heard of such places. That's the only explanation I can imagine for seeing so many of us in one spot. My mother was sold in a place like this when she was a girl. She told me slaves are treated much worse here. The guards can be cruel. Let's hope we're sold quickly."

Kella couldn't bring herself to hope the same. Somehow, having one specific owner would make all of this too real. Up to now, she'd half-imagined it was a nightmare she might still wake up from. She held out crossed fingers for Wyn and said with a hint of sarcasm, "Let's hope."

With a knowing look at her young friend, Wyn said, "Holding onto hope is going to get you killed. You've got to let that go." Her voice softened and she whispered, "I know you don't like to talk about your past, but how did you end up here? It's obvious you weren't born into this life like I was."

Kella dropped her eyes as a guard passed. Wyn was wrong to think she still had hope. Kella knew there was no way out. Even if she had anyone out there who cared about her, which she didn't, there would be no finding her now. She would disappear and never resurface. Still, her friend was right about one thing. Kella didn't like talking about her past. But after today she might never see Wyn again. Depending on the type of person who bought her, this might be the last real conversation she ever had.

Kella took a deep breath and answered, "I was in debt...a lot of debt. My contract was owned by Mr. Paravyn." Wyn nodded in recognition. She'd heard of the name. Kella continued, "I was working for him on his estate, gradually digging my way out. It would have taken a long time, but I'd have done it eventually. Then I did something that made him very, very angry. I helped—" She suddenly remembered why talking about it was a mistake. If she said any of her friends' names, she might imagine their faces...or helmet, in one case. And if she imagined their faces... Kella coughed to clear the lump from her throat and finished with, "Long story short, Mr. Paravyn decided it was too easy to kill me, so he sold me to a wealthy slaver friend instead."