Separate Ways

Sasha sat in the corner of the cold, dimly lit room. The blanket Vikurl had given her helped a lot but she was shivering more from fear than cold. She could feel the ship jerk and shake a for a moment and eventually start to slow down. They had reached their destination. Sasha hoped that the flight never ended because Borin hadn’t returned to her since Vikurl intervened. Perhaps the flight kept him busy and her attempted escape pulled him away from it. It was very stupid of her to escape she thought, but she had to give it a shot. If she’d gone all the way she may have made it. It didn’t matter anymore, what happened had happened and she had to set her sights on her next goal; Vikurl.

The two slavers seemed to dislike each other, but Borin seemed to be the one in charge. He was a terrifying man, and after his beating he became especially horrifying. The thought of him made her quiver and just as his image appeared in her mind she could hear heavy boots walking down the hallway. It was muffled from the thick steel door, but she could hear another door down the hallway open. Suddenly, the ship shook violently and settled quickly after. They had landed.

The footsteps turned into a muffled yell that sounded like Borin’s voice. She quickly got rid of the blanket and hid it in the cabinet that Vikurl had gotten it out of. She closed the cabinet just as the door to the room slammed open and Borin stepped in looking directly at Sasha. She pressed herself against the wall praying that he wouldn’t be as rough the second time around. He stomped over to her and grabbed her by the hair again and began dragging her outside, but this time she stayed on her feet.

“Time for your fifteen minutes of fame, little lass.” He said grumbly. He dragged her down the hallway by Vikurl, who was standing tall with his arms crossed and being careful not to lock eyes with Sasha. Borin tossed her against the wall beside a line of other slave girls who all wore plain, grey smocks that were stained and torn. The hallway filled up with the vile scent of body odour and breath that reeked of alcohol and vomit.

“Now, I’m gonna unhook one of ya’s to prep the slaves for the auction. If you think about getting funny and trying to run,” he explained as he grabbed Sasha’s arm and shook it violently, “you’ll end up worse than this little rat.” The girls nodded and one of them slowly put their hand up. Borin released her and walked over to her and looked down at a short girl, who looked about Sasha’s age.

“What?” he asked. She waited a moment before speaking.

“Can we go to the washroom now, please?” she asked. He frowned and looked over at Vikurl who wanted no part in the decision.

“Go ahead, nobody is stopping yah.” He said. She began to move but he grabbed her and forced her against the wall.

“No, if yer gonna go, yer gonna go here!” he yelled. The girl shook and turned her head away from Borin, who’s breath most likely reeked of alcohol.

“But if you do decide to go, you’ll be cleanin’er up.” He said. The girl nodded and undoubtedly held it in. Sasha realized what familiar smell was also invading the hallway and it made her gulp. Her heart rate picked up and she hung her head down. Another woman at the end of the line put her hand up and Borin looked over at her.

“Another bathroom break?” he asked.

“No, I can do the prep work.” She said. Borin smirked and looked at Vikurl. Vikurl nodded and pushed passed him to unlock the girl’s restraints.

“Do it quickly, and do it right.” Borin said as he pushed by Vikurl, likely trying to assert his dominance which Vikurl ignored like all of his other insults and moronic gestures. He led the girls down the hallway to a small doorway that revealed a small washroom. Vikurl turned to the woman that offered to help prepare the girls for the upcoming auction.

“Take them in one at a time. I trust that you will not try anything funny. My last resort would be harming you, but I am very capable of doing so, as is my lovely friend.” He said, cringing on the word ‘friend’. The woman nodded understanding the demands and took the first young girl into the bathroom. Vikurl put his hand in the doorway before it shut and looked at the girl.

“Make sure they use the bathroom, but be quick about it.” He explained to her as he shut the door. Sasha looked at Vikurl from the back of the line and tried to lock eyes with him. She had to know what auction was coming up and what it meant for her.

His gaze would not break from the bathroom door, so Sasha tapped the girl’s shoulder in front of her. The girl turned around to look at Sasha, who was bruised and now beginning to swell up around her eye and jaw. The girl looked similar to Sasha, but her scars were older and seemed to run deeper than her skin.

“What is this auction all about?” Sasha asked quietly. The girl looked over at Vikurl to ensure he didn’t hear them talking and she gazed back at Sasha.

“They’re going to sell us.” She replied quietly.

“To whom?”

“The highest bidder.” She said with a grave tone in her voice. Sasha nodded and crossed her arms trying to comfort herself.

“What happens if we don’t sell?” Sasha asked.

“We’re considered useless, and we’re discarded.” She replied and turned back around to the line of girls trying to hide her tears. Sasha gulped and choked on her own tears as well. She never thought she’d be more in favour of somebody buying her than not. At least that way, she could have more of a chance to escape or even the slim possibility that whoever bought her would treat her well. This seemed far fetched in the dark world she was now a part of.

The first girl stepped out of the washroom and she had makeup on, as well as her hair poorly brushed. The makeup was also done so poorly which added to Sasha’s knot in her gut; it made the girl look like a fake doll or a freak at the circus. She looked as if she was someone’s possession, instead of being her own independent person. The second girl stepped into the washroom and the door closed behind them.

Vikurl began to walk down the line examining the girls to make sure they weren’t hiding anything, or if they needed anything before the auction. Nothing was uttered between the girls as even washroom breaks were supposed to be out of the question. He got to Sasha and looked down at the young, battered teenager. Sasha looked back up at him with her eyes pleading for his help.

“Are you ready?” he asked. Sasha didn’t want to answer but she simply nodded her head.

“You have to help me. You have to help us.” She said quietly.

“Sasha, don’t even think of it.” He replied quickly.

“It’s all I can think about.” She said a bit louder which made him step up closer to her. He looked down at her ferociously. His eyes begged her to keep quiet.

“Please.” She said quietly through gritted teeth. He suddenly smacked her in the head and dragged her down the hall by her arm into the main cabin where the slaves had been held before. The door slammed shut behind them and Sasha instinctively covered her head and hunched over preparing for another beating.

“Stand up, straight, now.” He said quickly. Sasha peeked through her arms at Vikurl who was standing before her with his arms crossed. She lowered her guard slowly, still expecting at any moment to be pummelled into.

“There is nothing I can do for you, and if you keep asking me and Borin overhears you, you will not make it to the auction. I promise you that.” He explained to her.

“Maybe there is nothing you can do for me here, but there might be something.” She said. Vikurl raised his eyebrow and waited for the young slave to humour him with her idea.

“My brother. He is going to be looking for me.” She said.

“I doubt he’ll find you.” He responded, pessimistically.

“He would do anything for me, and I mean anything.” She explained. Vikurl seemed to be getting frustrated with the conversation, but it frustration out of sympathy rather than anger. He hated hearing these pleas from the slaves, and they’d always begged him for mercy. This was too much for him to handle and he just wanted to shut her up and stop plucking away at his heart, but he could not turn away from her.

“In my belongings, that he took from me. There will be a picture of him, in a small wallet.” She explained, “Please, if you by some form of miracle see him, please give him any information he may need to find me, and tell him I love him.” She said. Vikurl felt that knot inside of his chest he felt every time they were prepping the slaves for an auction but this one was different.

His culture revolved around the idea of promises and honour; the only ideals that mattered to them were fighting for pride, and for honour and the second was keeping any and all promises until their dying breath. He didn’t want to make this promise.

“I cannot. Stay strong, and keep quiet.” He said. Sasha nodded fighting off the tears that were swelling up in her eyes now. She didn’t feel as if she had any more tears to cry, but she was proved wrong. The door opened behind them and Vikurl turned around to see Borin in the doorway.

“What the ‘ell are you doin’?” he asked sternly.

“She got out of line, just had to set her straight.” He said turning back to Sasha. Sasha put her head down and kept crying to herself. Borin nodded to himself and looked suspiciously at Vikurl. Something was different and he knew Vikurl was up to something, but what it was was unclear to him. He had to cut the head off of the beast before it caught air.

“I’ll deal with ’er.” Borin said.

“I’ve got it.” Vikurl responded.

“I wasn’t askin’ yah, yah damn lizard!” He ordered. Vikurl locked eyes with Sasha and turned away from her, pushing passed Borin out of the room. Sasha began to shake and tried to keep herself together but the longer Borin stared at her, the more she cried. Borin stepped toward her and lifted her chin with a finger and looked down at her with a piercing gaze. His eyes were glossy and had dark circles around them from lack of sleep. His breath smelt of alcohol and it penetrated her no matter how hard she tried to keep the smell out. Borin was drunk, and was likely to do something without a thought.

“Didn’t yah learn the first time? If we wasn’t close to an auction, I’d make you understand exactly who I am. It must be yer lucky day.” He said through slurred speech as he smacked her in the back of the head which brought her to her knees. She yelped as her knees hit the floor and she held onto them wincing in pain.

“Get up.” He said intensely. He looked as if he was going to unleash everything he had on her, but his greed overtook his thirst for pain.

“Get up, now!” he screamed. The man was drunk and she had to act fast, despite the crushing pain in her head and knees. Pushing herself up she fought the intense pain and straightened her body as best she could. Borin grasped her arm and dragged her into the hall and through her down the hallway toward the bathroom. The women glared at Sasha in horror, now all done with their makeup and prep.

“Clean her up!” he screamed at the woman. The woman quickly helped Sasha up and brought her into the washroom, closing the door behind them. They could hear Borin walking by outside and his steps fell into an oddly timed rhythm as he stumbled by. The woman looked at Sasha and began to attempt putting makeup on her and make her look presentable.

“Your name is, Sasha?” the woman asked in a thick accent. Sasha nodded barely in response.

“That’s a pretty name.” She said. Sasha opened one of her eyes to look at the woman who was gorgeous but clearly scarred and marked from what seemed to be years of the slave trade.

“Thank you.” She responded quietly with a forced smirk which soon returned to a stone like frown. The woman began brushing Sasha’s pink hair that was parted to one side revealing a swirled design on the side of her head. She admired it for a moment and continued brushing.

“My name is Aidha.” She said.

“Nice to meet you, Aidha.” Sasha responded.

“I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Yeah.”

“I know this seems counterintuitive, but try not to worry to much. Cross each bridge as you get to it.” She said. Sasha smiled slightly again but it wasn’t forced this time.

“I appreciate the kind words, but it’s easier said than done.” She explained.

“You’re preaching to the choir. I’ve been a slave for over twenty years.” She said. Sasha fully opened her eyes to look at Aidha and felt a blanket of sorrow come over her.

“I’m sorry, about that.” Sasha said, awkwardly.

“Don’t worry, I’ve become accustomed to it.”

“You mean, you’re used to it?”

“You’d be amazed at what you can do after twenty years.” The woman said as she began applying makeup to Sasha’s bruised and cut up face. Sasha winced whenever Aidha stroked the brush across a scar on her face and Aidha apologized each time.

Sasha couldn’t process the fact that the woman had been a slave for twenty years and actually seemed partially okay with it. She had been a slave longer than Sasha had even been alive. The thought of it was gut wrenching and it twisted her stomach. Aidha continued with the makeup until she was finished and let Sasha look at herself in the mirror. Sasha thought it was atrocious but she didn’t have much choice, nor did she really care how she looked at that moment.

They stepped out of the washroom and Vikurl led them around the corner to where the ramp led out of the freighter. Steam poured into the hallway at their feet and soon the ramp began to lower which let out a squeak and a roar from old age and scraping metal. As the ramp lowered a cold draft from the hangar crawled up their legs and surged their spine with chills.

“I’m going to make myself clear. If you run, you will be shot. If you scream, you will be shot. If you resist, you will be shot. Is that understood?” he explained. The girls all nodded in sequence to the man’s directive and he led them out of the ship into a large, dark, cold hangar. There were ships all across the massive hangar and armed guards near the exits and by a few of the ships.

Suddenly, one of the younger girls, possibly younger than Sasha began to make a run for it across the hangar. Where she planned to go was beyond any of their recognition but they all stopped behind Vikurl. The threats, and beatings and promises had gotten to this girl and everything was about to end for her. Perhaps she was in her right frame of mind and it was the right thing to do. Sasha couldn’t give up at this point. She had to hold on to every ounce of hope she could grasp. Hope would keep her alive, maybe long enough to see her brother again.

A guard near the exit they were walking toward took a few steps forward and carefully took aim with a large blaster rifle. They could hear the whizzing of the blaster charging, and before they knew it a red blast shot from the barrel of the rifle and slammed into the girl’s back making her crumble to the floor almost completely lifeless. The guard quickly approached her as she moaned in excruciating pain, trying to crawl further away. Before she could crawl much further the guard slammed his foot into her back and she began to scream louder. He took aim again and blasted two more shots into her head which made the screams stop almost instantly. The screams were gone but they echoed throughout the hangar followed by the blaster rifle’s discharge. He turned and walked back to his post as if he’d just gone to the washroom, or had been on a break. He just left her body there as if someone else would be there to clean it up, eventually. This world was very real, and it made Sasha cold to the marrow in her bones.

They continued walking through the hangar and through the hangar door leading into a dark, dingy hallway. There was a shady character leaning against the wall and as the group passed him by he looked every one of them up and down. As Sasha passed him he reached out and grabbed her arm viciously. Her heart stopped beating for a moment and her knees nearly gave out. Vikurl spun around and marched toward the man. His eyes were locked on Sasha, and she couldn’t pull herself away. Vikurl grabbed the man’s arm which made him scream, as Vikurl’s grip was bone crushing to the man.

“You don’t touch the slaves, got it?!” he screamed into the man’s face. The man spit on Vikurl and let out a drunken, hysterical laugh while screaming from the pain of his nearly broken arm. Vikurl pulled a knife out from his sheath and slammed it into the man’s stomach. The man let out a blood curdling chortle and slid down the ground flinching and bleeding out. Vikurl wiped his knife on the man’s scraggly looking coat and put it back in it’s sheath. He slightly nodded to Sasha and continued.

She couldn’t explain or process what had just happened in front of her. Was Vikurl protecting Borin’s investment, or was he genuinely protecting her? Hoping for the latter, she continued with the group as they traversed the many winding hallways of the facility. She had no clue where they were, but judging by the temperature she could only assume it was either winter or they were in some sort of space station.

It felt strange to her to have let the thought of Vikurl stabbing that man behind them fade so easily, but after what she’d been through it almost felt normal for her. She did not want the feeling of watching a man bleed out be normal, in fact it made her sick to her stomach the more she thought about it which made her feel slightly human again.

The group was led into a dark room that resembled a dressing room at the back of a theatre, but darker and less taken care of. There were a few men and strange looking aliens staring at the girls as they entered the room. Sasha felt uncomfortable as the foreign eyes glared at her with mixed intents.

“These slaves are here for processing. I trust you will not harm or play with any of them?” he asked the men. They simply nodded to him but seemed to not care about what he had to say.

“Do I need to repeat myself? If they are harmed, I will cut the hands of the one who did it. Am I clear?” he said, raising his voice at the end of his demand. The men all agreed quickly in his presence. Vikurl walked passed them all and quickly put his hand on Sasha’s shoulder, looking down at her.

“I’m sorry, Sasha.” He said. She couldn’t answer him and although she wanted to thank him for what he’d done to at least comfort her, she knew he, like anybody else in the room, was just doing their job.

She put her faith in Vikurl to follow through with his promise but she knew deep down that could very well have been just trying to calm her down in the heat of the moment. Nothing made sense to her anymore, and the intentions of others began to be skewed by her recent experiences. She liked to imagine that her brother would come to rescue her, like a knight in shining armour but it was a massive star system, and they were just two kids. At that moment, she came to terms with the fact that she would never see her brother again. She wanted to cry and she wanted to scream, but neither would do her any good. She began to accept the harsh reality that she was now a slave.

Corvus was ripped out of his sleep by the ship’s vibration and for a moment he felt lost. Everything shortly came back to him as the landing cycle began causing the ship to rock uncomfortably due to stabilizing the ship for a smooth landing. He got up from the bed and stretched his arms and legs, then cracked his neck. The door to the room opened and Rik walked in holding a brown and red leather jacket. He tossed it at Corvus, who caught it and admired it for a moment.

“It was mine a few years ago but never got around to getting rid of it. Put it on, and take that stupid uniform off.” He said. Corvus smirked and removed the navy blue uniform he’d forgotten he even had on. It was ripped, stained from smoke and looked as if he’d been through a war zone, which was exactly the case. He crumpled the shirt and tossed it to the ground and looked down at his white tank top that fitted tightly against his lean stature.

“That cabinet there, there’s some clean clothes in there, they should fit.” Rik said, pointing toward a small cabinet built into the wall of the ship. Most of the furnishings of the starship were built in as opposed to being individual pieces. This was probably for the better as loose furniture or items could get seriously damaged if the ship experienced nasty turbulence, or got into a dogfight.

Corvus approached the cabinet and opened it to see some different types of shirts. He picked up a light grey shirt that fastened in the middle with straps that clipped onto each side of the gap. He slid it on and clipped the straps together and looked at himself in the dirty and partially broken mirror. He slid on the leather jacket over it and liked the new look. His pants were dark green cargo pants and he decided to keep those and his large work boots on. They weren’t torn from the chaos and still fit comfortably.

Something bulged from inside the jacket as he patted it down. He pulled the left side of the jacket out only to see a small blaster inside a sheath that was built into the jacket. Corvus had never owned a proper weapon aside from some knives. They were in the midst of a war, a hunt for slave traders and had just docked on a space station that had rumoured underground slave trades, drug cartels and crime syndicates.

After getting himself hyped up for the mission ahead he was finally ready and walked into the main cabin of the ship. Corvus wanted to know more about Rik’s arsenal and figured it’d be good to know what his gear was capable of if they got into a confrontation which was very likely.

“I haven’t actually seen your gun in action yet, how capable is it?” Corvus asked.

Rik chuckled and pulled out the blaster pistol which was large for the average pistol. It was dark grey and scuffed with the markings of past encounters that Corvus could only begin to imagine. It had a long barrel with a flared nozzle; the barrel itself had holes throughout it which Corvus assumed would be used to vent the heat and assist with the cool down. The grip was leather and worn and led up to a trapezoid shaped chamber that was topped with an iron sight and no scope. The trigger had three lines indicating three different stages of firing; the first stage was standby where the pistol would be active but not charging, the second was in the middle and signified the charging cycle, which Corvus had seen and heard in action, and third was the discharge. You could skip the second cycle and fire the weapon at a lower charge, but would still pack a punch.

“This gun has seen a lot of action. It’s killed a lot of people.” Rik said, seriously. Corvus nodded admiring and respecting the blaster.

“Are you prepared to kill someone, when you have to?” Rik asked him. Corvus remembered the soldier he killed on Fares when he and his sister were nearly casualties of war.

“I already have.” Corvus said, some regret in his voice. Rik nodded and sheathed the blaster in his long, brown duster.

“Back on Fares?” he asked. Corvus nodded and began to feel the remorse for killing the soldier. He hadn’t thought about it as so many things had happened to him in the last few hours. The soldier he killed may have had a family, or kids; he was just doing his job and Corvus took everything away from him. At the end of the day it was kill or be killed, and Corvus wasn’t prepared to leave Sasha alone.

“Let me tell you something about this galaxy, kid, about what we’re about to get into.” Rik explained, “You can’t flinch, and you can’t think in these circumstances. You will meet the lowest of the low in these underground bars. Down here is different than Fares; fights never end with two people walking away. One always dies. Don’t be the one that dies.”

Corvus understood the harsh but truthful words and hoped he could live up to the standards of a seasoned mercenary. The very thought of it was mind numbing and deep down he wasn’t sure if he would have the strength to do it. He did it once before, so maybe he was doubting himself more than he should. Then, he remembered Sasha and what she could possibly be going through. This was all the fuel he needed, and began burning the idea into his brain that whoever got in his way, would become a casualty.

“For Sasha, I’ll do anything.” He said. Rik nodded and gripped Corvus’ shoulder tightly and shook him.

“I hope so, kid.” He said. Corvus still didn’t appreciate that Rik didn’t get the message about calling him a kid, but he now realized it wasn’t out of disrespect. Corvus was only twenty-one years old and to Rik who was more than likely in his late thirties or early forties, he was still a kid. He had a lot to learn about the galaxy and how it worked.

“Stay close to me, ignore everyone if you can, and expect to get into a fight. If you do get into a fight, shoot first and ask questions later.” Rik explained to Corvus, who nodded in agreement. Corvus began reaching in his jacket and removing the pistol as fast as he could, trying to prepare himself for a fight. Rik began giving him tips of drawing his weapon and being the first to shoot. He told him normally, to leave the safety on at all times to avoid an injury, but in underground Bars it was mandatory to leave your weapon off safety at all times. The split second it took to remove the safety meant life and death.

“Remember, draw, point and shoot. Don’t think about the kill shot and don’t think about getting shot. As long as your opponent is five to ten feet away speed comes first and accuracy second. Don’t be afraid to fire more than one shot as well. If you mess, it’s better to hit him with a stray bullet if he tries to dodge the first one.” Rik explained further.

“Now, the most important rule about getting into a gun duel is patience and having nerves of steel.” Rik continued, “Do not try to dodge anything and don’t get jittery. If your opponent knows that you’re shaken or frightened, they will take their time with the shot as he will have more time and there is a bigger chance that you will drop your weapon… I know it’s a lot to take in now, but it’s very important if for some reason I’m not there with you. Anything can happen.” Corvus soaked up the information like a sponge and began running it through his head like clockwork.

“Hopefully you won’t need to use it at all, but it’s good to be prepared.” He said, patting Corvus’ back.

Rik then lowered the ramp with descended onto the steel platform. They both exited the ship as the ramp closed behind them. A small robot approached Rik and said something in a strange language that sounded like clicks and blurps. The robot was cylindrical in shape but just as tall as Rik and had three mechanical arms each with different tools on it. Corvus had seen this Robot before and recognized it as a SKIB model Robot which meant Spaceport Keeping & Intelligence Bot, and they were meant for upkeep up spaceports and hangars around the galaxy. It was dark grey with red markings around different compartments of the Robot and the head of the Robot was a small spherical extension from the torso of the Robot which was bowl shaped. The head was white and did not have any features other than six red dots that were most likely for primary senses such as hearing, speaking and seeing.

“No, sorry, I speak humanoid.” He said. The Robot perked up and let out a small, happy sounding beep.

“Oh, my apologies, you looked as if you were from Coridus, as is your ship.” He said. Rik smiled and nodded to the Robot.

“Don’t worry about it, just a refuel and a small bit of ion damage near the O2 system that should probably patched up.” He said as he held out a small yellow card. The Robot took the card and scanned it on a small screen on it’s arm and handed it back to Rik, who slipped it back into his pocket.

“Thank you, Mr. Trengotti, enjoy your time at Alpha One. Please take the time to read our Laws and Regulations Act in order to keep yourself safe.” The Robot exclaimed. Rik walked by the Robot as it droned on about certain attractions, hotels and bars that Alpha One had to offer. He had heard the automated message dozens of times and didn’t need to hear it this time. Most of it was for tourists anyway, not for mercenaries.

“Rik Trengotti?” Corvus asked.

“Tanner. Rik Tanner, my last bounty was Trengotti.” He replied with a smirk.