[sylvanSpider]

Spacepunk Stills: Magali

Magali woke up in complete, cold, darkness. For a moment, she wondered if her eyes were even open. Even nighttime on Jeupra never was this dark, there were always the stars, the moons. They were a guide for any who got lost, but what was one to do when they were lost and the stars and moon abandoned them? The movement of the felis's small form was restricted, and she found that she now had metal bracelets around her wrists, ankles, and neck. She'd been propped up in a sitting position, and she found her tail still had movement, but what was she to do with that?

Then she remembered. The females had all gone out on a hunt, the village males staying behind to look after the children. Magali could remember that she'd pouted at not being able to go out with the rest of her sisters, being the youngest and she'd sulked way over to one of the Elder's huts. The Elder, Nomika she was called, took a special liking to Magali and allowed her to linger with her while the others were out. She explained calmly that she would be able to go and hunt when she got older, when her arms were strong enough to draw back a bow. Nomika's words were comforting, as they always were, and Magali's spirits lifted some.

But that was when it ended. Their village was attacked, and all of the weapons were with the women. The target wasn't the adults, that became clear when Nokima took a position in front of the youngling only to get knocked out of the way. Magali saw only a weapon that looked like a giant straw before everything faded to darkness. She woke up, and the darkness was still there. Voices could be heard from somewhere, she thought maybe her right, but they sounded distanced, somewhat muffled, becoming clearer as they neared. Both, she recognized, belonged to males.

“Well, today was a success, wouldn't you say so?”

“We only managed three, sir.”

“Yes, but the girl is worth quite a lot. She's rare. You saw the shade of her hair, right? The color of her eyes? The type of fur on her tail and ears? The fetishists seem to like her kind best and are willing to part with millions of qanta just to be able to take one home – more if they are properly trained.”

“So what are you gonna do? Train her yourself, or sell her as is? She's still wild, you know.”

“Of course I know that. I bagged her myself. But no, I don't have time for that. I'll sell her as is and the buyer can decide what to do with her then.”

“Does she at least speak Common?”

“Haven't tried yet. I know of some tribes that do, but the ones inland, native to the rivers generally don't. That's more coastal. I'm not worried about it. She'll fetch a hefty sum tomorrow and that's all that really matters to me.”

The second voice grew quiet and Magali couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about. The language they used was completely foreign to her, and she knew immediately that these were those that attacked her village. She stayed quiet as a door that she didn't realize was there hissed open, light spilling into the room, burning her eyes.
The two speakers appeared as only silhouettes in the doorway before the lights whirred on. Looking around, she could see two of her brothers seeming to just wake up, shielding their eyes from harsh, cold light that stirred them from their slumber. One of the men squat down in front of her, reaching under her chin to lift her eyes up to his. She closed her eyes, attempting to look anywhere but the man and she tried to snap at him, half choking herself in the process by the metal necklace around her throat. He chuckled, “Yes definitely still wild. Tell me, child, do you understand me?”

Magali tried lunging at him again, only to find the same result and she found herself pressing against the wall as if she could just melt through it, to get away from this wicked man. He was close enough to her that she could feel his breath hot on her cheek, smell the spices he'd had with his dinner. “Alright then,” he said, pursing his lips. It was as he thought. She didn't speak the language, “We'll start this easy.”

He pointed to himself, “Jorza.” Then, he pointed to Magali who in turn clamped her jaw shut, lips pressed tightly together. Jorza then reached out, slapping Magali with a loud, echoing thwack. Magali looked at him with wide eyes, again she shrank against the wall, ears pressed flat against her head, every hair on her tail rising on end. Jorza tried again. “Jorza,” he said, pointing to himself, then pointing to Magali.

“M-magali,” the child felis stammered back. The man nodded in approval, grabbing her wrists and placing something in her palms.

“Eat.”

The other man had already deposited what looked like something resembling food with her brothers and was now reporting to the one called “Jorza.”

“The other two are Tizi and Taza, twins by the looks of it. We might be able to make some extra qanta if we sell them together,” he was quiet for a moment as he looked at Magali's face, reddened in the spot that Jorza's hand made contact. “

Do you ever feel guilty about all this? I mean, getting involved in the slave trade? They're just children... They can't be more than five, can they? Maybe six?”

“In galactic years, maybe, but Jeupra is the closest planet in their solar system to the sun. I'd put them anywhere between 16-20 in Jeupran years.”

The man grew quiet, not wanting to point out the logical fallacy in Jorza's words. They hadn't yet reached anywhere near adulthood and he looked back at the twins who were both smelling the meal replacement bar that he'd given them as if questioning whether or not it was edible. “Well, either way, we'll both be very rich men come tomorrow.”