“I’m taking you into custody. Then I’ll confiscate your stolen ship.”
Vi met and held the gaze of each male with her: Acken, Caussus, then Mister Beastly, Friend, and Trak. She looked up at Steev, then turned to Bahbi and looked into his eyes. He wanted to pull her into his arms if this was going to be the end, but he knew she would prefer to go out fighting, so he resigned himself to taking in a last look at her beautiful face as she gave him a small smile.
Then she said to all of them, “Do not act. Yet.” She turned to Prag, “I hope whatever you think you’re doing here is important enough for you to risk your life and the lives of these Trallians. This isn’t going to end well, Prag.”
While he stared at her, open-mouthed, she looked around at the guard force and said, “Trallians, listen to me. Are you tired of being slaves? All the Trallians associated with us are free. Wedo not allow slavery. Ask either of these two,” and she indicated Bahbi and Trak, who were both nodding.
Prag spat out, “They are not slaves. They are paid in food and lodging.”
Vi looked at him, disgustedly, “So they can leave whenever they want? Oh, of course they can’t, because you don’t give them any money. We do. Our Trallians are employees. They are paid. They are free to make their own decisions about their lives. The only exception is these two.” Vi took Bahbi’s hand in front of everyone, linking her fingers in his, then reached for Trak’s hand. “They are not employees, but rather bound by love and loyalty to the House of Oz and are essential members of our royal family. Trakluved,” she raised the hand linked with Trak’s, “is third-in-command under the Estranian for all royal operations. He is an honored member of our house. Bahbi,” she did the same with their linked hands, “is the royal designer. He designed everything you see on this party in front of you.”
Bahbi watched the shock and dismay register on each of the Trallian’s faces surrounding them. Trallians, in positions of importance and honor? Valued for their loyalty and contributions? Paid employees, free to make their own decisions for themselves? It was unheard of.
Prag was turning a darker shade of grey and starting to raise his voice, “There is no House of Oz! You arrived here in a known slaver’s ship; a dreg of the universe named Qlu. I used my contacts to discover that he recently canceled an auction, abruptly. It was to feature a human,” his gazed pierced into Vi, “an Estranian,” he whipped his head around to Acken, “and a Garoxian!” He turned his head to Mister Beastly.
Bahbi stood next to Vi, fingers still linked. She gave him a reassuring squeeze, then released his hand and walked up to Prag. None of his guards moved to protect him. Bahbi found thatveryinteresting.
Vi leaned into his face and said, “So what?”
“SO, THERE IS NO HOUSE OF OZ!” He screamed. He looked about ready to explode.
She smirked, “Wrong. Therewasno House of Oz. Now there is. And it is rich beyond measure and rapidly building critical alliances. You’re keeping us from building one with the Ophidians, as we speak, and I think Steev up there,” she glanced up, “is being remarkably patient about it. Don’t expect his patience to last. Or the Estranian’s. Or the Garoxian’s.”
While she was talking, Vi had started to sidle around the side of Prag. At that moment, she moved in a blur, reaching down to grab a dagger, place herself behind him, and bring the blade up to his throat. She leaned in toward his ear and said, “Or mine.”
The Trallian force had been totally mesmerized by what she was saying, and none of them had anticipated her movements. Almost in slow motion, those not holding weapons on anyone specifically turned to bring their weapons up at her. But Bahbi noticed that not one of them could bring himself to point the weapon at her head or face. She had gotten under their skin, rapidly. And he marveled at how males in power continued to overlook and underestimate her. Qlu had learned the hard way, and it looked like Prag was going to, as well.
A chorus of growling, snarling, and hissing filled the space. Bahbi was surprised to find himself growling along with all the others in Vi’s strange menagerie, and he saw the looks of fear in Prag’s and his guards’ eyes growing by the second.
Vi was pressed tightly against Prag’s backside and had her left arm wrapped around him to hold both of his arms down. She said, “Remember when I said this wasn’t going to end well? This is what I meant. How many of us, you and I included, do you think are going to walk away from this now?”
Prag just made anung, ung, ungsound and said nothing.
Vi smiled, “Shall we call a truce, put our weapons away, and have a conversation? Mind you, many of the males I’m with are walking weapons, and I want to make sure you understand that they can’t be holstered. Be very careful about what you say and do.”
Prag nodded, shakily. He said, “Weapons down, holstered,” in a weak voice.
The Trallians slowly complied, those with weapons held directly on the party took a few steps backwards before lowering and holstering their weapons, seeming to need the safety of the rest of the guard force to feel confident in getting away from the absolute menace of Vi’s males.And, Bahbi thought,that’s just what we all are. Vi’s menagerie. Didn’t she own them all, heart and soul?She had professed her love for all of them before they left the ship, but he knew without a doubt that the love each of them felt for her was a thousand times greater then, and many thousand times greater, now.
Bahbi went to face Prag and held out his hand for Vi’s blade, “Give it to me, Vi, then move away. I’ll take it away from his throat when you’re safely behind me.”
Behind him, Acken said, “Mister Beastly.”
Bahbi watched as Mister Beastly came to stand behind Vi, then she allowed Bahbi to take the blade. Prag had become a sickly grey color now, all the charcoal coloring of his previous anger bled off. As Mister Beastly escorted Vi back within their group, Bahbi pulled the blade away from Prag’s throat and stepped backwards. He silently handed the blade back to Vi.
He watched her take herdon’t fuck with mestance, arms crossed under her small breasts, feet planted in a wide stance.
“So, Prag, what exactly is the problem you have with us? Are we breaking a law of the galaxy or of your station?”
He stared at her, opened his mouth, closed it, looked down, then said, “Um…not really, no.”
“So, you’re just pissed that we presented ourselves to you as the House of Oz and asked for your help finding a broker?”
“I sent you a fucking feast!” He spat, petulantly.
“Yes, that was very gracious, and we all enjoyed it immensely.”
“I spent hours reaching out to find you a broker,” he sulked.