Fox woke up on a cold metal floor, his head pounding like a drum. His side felt like it was on fire. He groaned and tried to get up, only to find out that his wrists were shackled behind him, and his ankles were shackled together, like he was a piece of meat. His snout was crudely forced closed with some sort of inhumane muzzle, so tight it hurt his teeth. He was only wearing his boxers and his undershirt, so the cold metal stung like ice on his legs.
The room he was in was dark. Dark enough for him to not see well but with just enough ambient light to make out silhouettes. He was in a tight cell of some sort, if he had to guess. A very tight cell, almost like a box. A small rectangle let in a tiny ray of light, a dark red ambient light, as if the opposite room was covered in velvet drapes.
He didn't really hear much. It was very quiet, too quiet. The metal clanked against his shackles but it was muffled. He heard similar clanking around him periodically. He wasn't alone, it seemed.
He wasn't just in a cell, this was a system of cells, like a prison. So maybe this was where the miners were. He didn't remember much, just that the creature had practically strangled him.
Footsteps echoed outside of the small cell. He leaned forward, onto the warm metal, his eyes able to see the hall. It was rows and rows of dark grey cells, lined up like the inside of a bank vault but more sinister. Each lacked distinguishing features, so it somewhat resembled a Venomian maximum security prison but definitely inhumane.
The footsteps grew louder, and he could make out the figures of two individuals approaching. They stopped right next to his cell, arguing in some offshoot of Cerenian. He couldn't make out everything, so he tried to fill the blanks.
"You cannot do this, they are the spoils of our kin!" The first voice was light and throaty, like a bird of prey. The second, taller figure, or at least he thought it was taller, shifted and spoke. "My efforts gained the Vixen and I shall take her. I have not threatened your stock, marauder." The second voice was deeper, more Cornerian in nature.
The shorter figure fiddled with it's sharp talons almost therapeutically, fidgeting with an unknown object. "Our fleet cannot run on bodies alone, the Vixen is valuable."
"Then you have chosen a poor trade, Urii-Al."
"I swore an oath to bring prosperity to our kin and I cannot turn back onto that oath."
The larger figure slammed it's fist into Fox's cell door, causing him to panic and shrink back. "Your broken oaths are none of my concern. My concern is the orders given to me by my ecclesiarch and I shan't Jeopardize my mission due to your negligence. You shall be properly compensated for your contributions and that is final." The larger figure turned and left, leaving the shorter figure to sulk, mumbling in a language that definitely wasn't Cerenian.
This definitely wasn't a Venomian ship.
Another figure approached, a similar height to the short avian-esq individual. Similar attributes. It tapped on the pauldron of its compatriots with its talon to garner it's attention. It turned around and shivered in an odd fashion. "Not now, Steelquill. My mind is in the gutter."
"Daydreaming about gutting the Cerenian again?"
"That or just shooting him. Both are cathartic but ultimately futile. Thank you for engaging in the foul speech. Their language is barbaric but ultimately useful for privacy. Word cannot get out about our loss of the girl. The Rook will pay well for her return."
"I understand, brother. But what will we do with the Justicar? One of such a reputation does not just disappear."
The first figure tapped it's clawed foot in contemplation. "We force him to leave empty handed. He cannot fight ten thousand warriors all on his own."
"No, brother. The ecclesiarchy will retaliate, and they have the moral superiority with the Grand Phoenix."
"You are correct, then the Justicar retains our hospitality for now, but if he can be subverted then do so. I will not risk defacement and dishonor for wealth, even if the wealth is most welcome."
They nodded to each other before dispersing. Fox fell limp back into his cell, now with the knowledge that this wasn't just a group of shitty mercenaries. This was an operation, and a foreign one at that. Fox had a feeling they were very far away from Corneria.
But what kind of operation? This wasn't a prison ship, the creature spoke about bodies as if they were goods. A slave ship? Fox's heart sank. Was he going to be sold on some hellhole? He tried to break his bonds, testing their strength, but it was no use. Panicking didn't seem like a good idea at the moment.
The cell was starting to become very cramped and humid, so he closed his eyes and daydreamed about his father. He'd know what to do.
After some time, Fox woke back up. He didn't know how much time passed, probably a few hours. He didn't care about that. What he did care about was that the door to his cell was being opened. He shrunk to the back of his cell, trying to be less of a target.
The door swung open, blinding Fox with a bright light. A large, scaly and clawed hand reached for his neck, tightening around his windpipe. Terrifying memories of being choked in the mining station returned, and he began to hyperventilate, struggling against his captor. That earned him a harsh squeeze, stunning him, before he heard someone yelling. The large figure dropped him onto the ground.
Fox's blurry vision subsided, revealing his two captors. The first was a gigantic reptilian from the stuff of nightmares. At least eight feet tall, it was ripped, which wasn't hidden. Only it's legs and torso were covered in lightly armored garments while it's arms and head were uncovered. Thick, grey scales covered it's arms like steel armor, and it's head had two, massive horns curved like tire irons protruding from each side. It's snout was short but thick, with rows of massive, razor sharp teeth overlapping outside of its mouth. It was like a crocodile was pumped full of steroids and given elephant tusks for horns.
Fox clawed at the massive arm, but his claws simply slid off like the scales I'd the monster were laminated. It stared at him with two, tiny yellow eyes, almost curiously, before the second, much smaller captor spoke up.
"Jarigurl, release him. I will not have you kill my patient." The massive creature growled in an almost apologetic fashion before releasing Fox gently on the floor. Fox was still shackled and muzzled, so he didn't dare break for it. He suspected that if the large creature wanted to, it could just kill him by stepping on him.
The second figure was much smaller, about half of Fox's height, making it and the massive beast an almost comical pair. It was shrewlike, but not hairless, as it was covered in a thick coat of stark white fur. Four beady eyes peeled through it's cartoonish brow like glowing searchlights. Two hands, each with a set of spindly fingers reaching into a bag for some supplies. It almost looked like a sentient ball of fur.
"Forgive my assistant. Subtlety isn't in his nature, although he is probably the friendliest member of this crew. He's just meant to look scary."
Fox was surprised by that. The large creature looked could tear him in half without much effort.
The small creature pulled out a small needle from his bag, and pressed it gently into Fox's arm. He flinched as blood was drawn, and the creature summarily scanned the contents of the needle within a small device.
"No parasites or diseases, no genetic disorders, no toxins in the bloodstream, a perfectly healthy male vulpine. Mild dehydration for sure, that needs to be fixed. Now, for the next part. Jarigurl, please restrain the patient."
Fox's eyes widened in alarm as Jarigurl forced his arms behind his back and held him down stomach first on the floor in a pacifying method. He struggled against the creature's steel grip, but it was like trying to lift a car without your feet on the ground. He couldn't see what the doctor was doing, but he felt him tapping on the back of his neck, feeling for his spinal cord, before fiddling with something mechanical. Fox tried to be audible, but the muzzle was incredibly tight, to the point where he couldn't do anything more than hum frantically as the doctor pressed a device into the base of his skull, where his neck and head met, and initiate what fox would describe as the worst pain he'd ever experienced.
Almost instantaneously, he felt what was like having four long, red hot staples inserted into his neck. That changed very quickly however, because the moment they embedded, he felt a shock travel up his brain stem and give him what seemed to feel like a stroke, except he could move his body. He moaned in pain under the muzzle as Jarigurl still held him down. The pain was too much; tears were coming out of his eyes and he couldn't think straight. Memories appeared at random, random jolts of pain seared into his skull, and he couldn't formulate thoughts correctly.
After a few more moments of this, Fox felt the pain subsided into a dull throb as he heard a weak pulse resonate at the base of his skull every few moments. The doctor pulled out another needle, this time filled with a clear liquid, and a small chip the size of an old school SD card. The doctor stroked the back of his neck, almost apologetically. "I know it hurts but we aren't done yet. This will help the pain."
A needle was injected into Fox's forearm, and he quickly felt the effects. He became incredibly tired, and his limbs and body numbed. The Doctor Then inserted the chip into the device embedded in his neck. Just as he heard whirring in his skull, the drugs began to take their full toll. His eyelids were heavy and his mind was scrambled, and as he closed his eyes he dreamed of Krystal. He felt her fear, and her anger. He wanted to protect her. He couldn't. He was trapped.
Krystal was not happy.
The sapphire vixen woke up with a splitting headache and in a surprisingly nice room. A twin bed, large rectangular table, and a glass of water on said table. A chair flanked each long side. The walls were a dark obsidian, with a few small geometric designs labelled here and there.
She sat up, cradling her temples and trying to remember where she was. Not the Great Fox, definitely not sargasso, and most definitely not Fox's villa. That would be to dumb for even her to do while drunk.
Then she remembered the battle, and the physic screech that had incapacitated her. She growled, looking for her weapons, but could only find that her flight suite had been replaced with a well fitting cerulean blue dress. It made her feel vulnerable.
Standing up and stumbling, she regained her balance and took a deep, reassuring breath, before walking towards the door. And it was locked.
She sighed and looked around for something to pry the door open with when she heard machinery whir from the other side. She retreated and scuttled back to the bed before attempting to identify the unknown without any luck. Her telepathy didn't work, every time she tried to sense any life around her her head burst into agony like it was filled with firecrackers.
The door slid open, revealing a tall and imposing figure. Covered in a suit of thick, midnight black armor, it stepped into the room, closing the door in the process. She backed up against the wall, eyeing the figure down. Her defiance seemed to lack any effect.
The armor was detailed, beautiful even. Intricate carvings gleaming with a faint blue glow etched with gold, overlapping plates fitting together like intricate puzzle pieces. Each seemed to have a specific purpose, to protect a part of the body while being as sleek and efficient as possible. Both pauldrons and the chestplate held an insignia, a burning sun with a blade skewered through its axis. The helmet was the worst part, however: not a single part of the face or head was revealed. Both eye sockets contained the ethereal blue glow that the rest of the armor held. A large sidearm hung from the hip and a large and imposing knife hung from it's right breast.
Krystal didn't dare move. She barely even breathed. She had a sickening feeling that if this figure wanted too, it could kill her before she could even register what was happening.
"What do you want with me?", She hissed.
"Information.", He growled. Definitely a he.
"I don't have any information you could want."
"I disagree. I think you have plenty of information I may or may not seek. Now, you can either cooperate or I could interrogate you. I would prefer the former but I am not above the latter."
"Then what could you possibly want to know?"
"What a single Cerenian is doing at this barbaric edge of the galaxy."
"That's not important."
"That's very important."
"I'm a refugee. My homeworld was destroyed."
"Oh, I know that already. I was asking how you arrived in this place, seven hundred light-years away from Cerenia? Through several hundred light-years of uninhabited space. A trip like that would take a week, at least. One does not simply go from point A To point B in this galaxy easily."
"I had my own ship."
The figure chuckled, unnerving Krystal. "Now that is interesting. Cerenians weren't exactly advanced. They didn't build their own ships, they were barbarians of the lowest order."
"Do not insult my people. You know nothing of their ways."
The figure sighed. "Maybe. I wasn't there for long. Only a few years. Not long enough to incorporate the culture I suppose."
"You were on Cerenia? It was destroyed."
"I lived there before it was destroyed. But it wasn't much of a difference. Nothing of note was created, nothing of value was discovered. Your people wallowed in poverty and dissonance. Your kin remained in what would be considered a bronze age until the rest of the galaxy discovered them and their psychic talents."
"Which caused their destruction.", Krystal replied, becoming anxious. This individual knew too much for her to be comfortable. "People like you intervened in the lives of the innocent. There was a reason why the elders warned against intrusions."
"How rude, you barely even know me."
"I know you had something to do with their destruction."
The figure grabbed one of the chairs and moved it towards him, sitting down in a refined and almost mocking fashion. "I might have been there, although I had nothing to do with the actual destruction. I was just a bystander."
"I doubt that. People like you, you wretches only cause pain to the innocent. I've looked into the eyes of evil before, you bear a resemblance."
"One could argue such a point, and I won't say that point doesn't have merit, although it's much more complicated than that. But I digress; We have become distracted. How did you attain a ship."
"My mother told me to enter the ship and initiate a blind jump. I never owned the ship, and it was destroyed soon after by General Scales on Sauria."
"General Scales, the marauder. He still lives?"
"No, my… friend killed him."
"Then your friend should be rewarded. He was a scourge upon the Deimos sector."
"Where are my friends.", Krystal asked.
"That's not important."
"It's very important.", She snapped back.
"Somewhere in the hold. I don't partake in their transport, I am simply a passenger."
"Why are they in the hold, what kind of ship is this?"
"I'm surprised you haven't figured that out yet. Several mining stations are empty, you are captured and separated from your colleagues, and you wonder what this ship's purpose is?"
Krystal had a sinking feeling this wasn't a military vessel.
"This is a slave ship, isn't it."
"Excellent deduction. Yes, this is one of five slave barges heading for the Deimos sector."
Krystal clenched her hand in anger, before releasing her psychic energy in a burst of rage. She ignored the searing pain in her skull, causing the figure to step back in alarm. She had never done such a thing before: her mother warned her against such actions as it would disrupt her mental state permanently, but at this point she couldn't care less about the consequences of her actions.
She released another burst, but she began to feel light headed. She had never released this much energy before. She tried again, and this time she fell to the floor, dry heaving from the stress.
"An impressive display for an untrained individual. Although I must say I'm disappointed by how quickly your fire disappeared." She looked up to see the imposing figure above her. He grabbed her by the throat and lifted her up to his eye level. "So, I'm going to make this as clear as possible to prevent any confusion. You are under my jurisdiction, and I will not tolerate another outburst like that again."
A communicator of sorts rang in a pocket of his under armor, and he retrieved it, still holding her with one hand with an incredible display of strength.
"I am very busy, Erogorn."
"The scyther wishes for your presence. He has issued an ultimatum."
"And the ultimatum is of what importance?"
"It's about the girl."
"I will be there within the half hour."
He terminated the call and looked back at her. "I am going to show you a little display of authority, just to motivate you to behave."
"You're a monster", she hissed. He simply chuckled. "I've been called worse by many. It's part of the job description. Now, are you going to behave yourself or am I going to have to force you to behave yourself. I can do both."