My hand instinctively moves to my weapon, but what emerges isn't an ambush.
It's worse.
Three human females are dragged into the chamber. They wear nothing but thin metallic collars connected to leashes held by Octopod handlers. Their skin is covered in a glossy, iridescent film, and their eyes are vacant.
My blood runs cold. I've seen many atrocities in my years navigating the darker edges of galactic society, but the human trade, when handled by aliens other than Imperials, is something that cuts too close to home, even for me.
“From our newest enterprise,” Kry announces proudly. “These specimens are broken in and well-trained. Worth at least thirty thousand each.”
My jaw clenches so hard I can hear my teeth grinding. “Didn’t you hear? The IGC has now classified humans as fully sentient beings with equal rights,” I say, keeping my voice neutral.
“The IGC doesn't reach the Nexus,” Kry laughs, a wet, obscene sound. “And we both know where Imperial tastes run.”
“I'm a citizen of Reima Two.”
“But you were born Imperial. And everyone in the galaxy knows, born Imperial, forever Imperial. Consider these women, Lorian. Think of the possibilities they present. We all know how you and Rafe like to have human pets ‘working’ at the Spire.”
The women stand in front of me, shivering despite the humid atmosphere. One is tall for a human, blonde and willowy, with bruises visible beneath the slime coating her skin. Her nipples are pierced with small silver rings that catch the pulsing light, clearly designed as attachment points. Another has dark brown skin and beautiful fluffy hair, her eyes are fixed on the floor, thighs trembling as she struggles to maintain the exposed stance her training has demanded. The third is smaller, with auburn hair plastered to her head by the same viscous coating that covers the rest of her, her skin is marked with intricate patterns that could be either ritualistic scarification or a twisted form of art.
“They're quite versatile,” Kry continues, signaling to one of the handlers. The Octopod yanks on the blonde's leash, forcing her to her knees. “Adaptable to any preference, no matter how creative.”
With a gesture from his tentacle, the blonde arches her back, presenting herself in an erotic display that's clearly been beaten into her. The collar at her throat pulses with energy, forcing her body to respond even as her eyes remain dead.
“This one has been trained in sixteen forms of pleasure across five species' anatomies,” Kry notes proudly. “A rare talent.” He gestures, and the blonde woman immediately drops to all fours, head bowed so low her forehead nearly touches the slick floor, ass raisedhigh in absolute submission.
I should leave. I should take our shipment, the credits, and go. These humans are not my concern. They're not connected to the Ascendant Alliance. They're just unfortunate humans who ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like so many others in this galaxy.
And yet...
“The redhead,” I hear myself say. “Show her to me.”
Kry's skin pulses with satisfaction as the handler drags the auburn-haired woman forward. Up close, I can see she's younger than I initially thought, perhaps no more than twenty by human standards.
Too fucking young.
Her skin bears fewer marks than the others, suggesting she's newer to captivity. The slime coating makes her small breasts glisten, and I catch her scent beneath the Octopod's revolting brine, something floral and unmistakably human. Under different circumstances, she’d be enticing.
“This one still has some spirit,” Kry notes with obvious pleasure.
One of his tentacles extends, the tip tracing a line down her spine that makes her shudder visibly. She bites her pink lip, clearly trying not to react, but her body betrays her with a tremor that runs from her shoulders to her thighs.
“Observe,” Kry says, signaling the handler.
The Octopod presses a control on his device. The woman's collar activates, sending a visible current through her body that's calibrated not for pain but for something far more insidious—arousal.
She gasps, her back arching involuntarily, pupils dilating as the neural stimulation floods her system. A flush spreads across her chest and face as her breathing becomes ragged.
“The collar can induce pleasure as effectively as it can pain,” Kry explains. “Most find the former more difficult to resist than the latter. Breaking the mind through the body's betrayal is an Octopodspecialty, you know.”
The woman's soft thighs press together, and her hands clench into fists at her sides as she fights the unwanted sexual sensations. Her green eyes meet mine as her body betrays her.
The sight unsettles me, not only for her sake, but because I feel my own body respond in ways I resent. “Enough.”
Kry's tentacles curl in amusement. “So youdohave an interest. I've heard rumors about your preferences, Lorian. How you enjoy breaking strong women. This human pet could provide you with weeks of entertainment before you tire of her. Then maybe you could settle with one of those Reima Two socialites who throw themselves at your feet.”
“The credits will be sufficient,” I say coldly. “Have them transferred to my account, along with confirmation of the shipment's release.”
Disappointment ripples across Kry's features. “As you wish. Though the offer remains open. Perhaps as a gift, to ensure no lingering resentment between our organizations?”
