Property of the Crimson Dawn
SPOILERS for SOLO
In "Solo a star wars story" you meet Qi'ra
So I wondered, what happened to her
So I wrote this;
Breaking Qi'ra
In the shipyards of Correllia
The cell she was in was originally an inspection hatch for one of the lower sumps of the labour hive, a lightless metal pit too small to lie down in, too low to stand in. A mass of pipes emptied a constant flow of stinking water, sewage and industrial waste into the sump that sluggishly flowed away through a grating in one wall. So she sat hunched over in a few inches of foul water and just waited in total darkness.
She's lost track of how long she's been in here.
After Molech caught her in Coronet spaceport she'd been dragged before Lady Proxima and the assembled White Worms gang. Proxima was furious with her for stealing from her and betraying the gang, but the Grindalid was cruel as well. Whipping the scrumrats into a frenzy of hate she had the whole gang pelt her with rocks and scrap metal until one well aimed cog hit her in the head and she passed out.
She remembers waking in a store room, her body a mass of bruises, one eye swollen shut. Her wrists and ankles were bound tightly with wire. Molech and two of the guards were standing over her, armed with shock goads.
Moloch had bend down and retracted his mask, revealing his palid skin and huge black eyes, and whispered to her "You'll never know how much it pains me to destroy something as beautiful as you." When he touched her face she'd tried to bite him, screaming at him. As his guards watched he'd methodically kicked and shocked her again and again, making her writhe in pain then pausing, throwing a bucket of ice cold water over her and then starting again.
That night, Proxima came to her again "oh Qi'ra, I had such hopes for you. You were quick on your feet, could think fast, you could plan and scheme better than any scrumrat in this place. But you betrayed me. we gave you everything, and this is how you repay me?"
"I owe you nothing! You made us work for you, steal for you. You gave us no choice!"
"Well, you have a choice now. Give up Han, tell me everything and beg forgiveness and I may consider letting you work again. Or you can stay here and suffer"
"I'd rather die!"
"You will, eventually. But til then you'll suffer. Moloch, carry on"
When they were tied of beating her They'd hooked the wire binding her wrists behind her to a cable hanging from the ceiling, pulling her arms up and back and left her hanging just off the floor so her own weight twisted her arms back until her shoulders ached.
Proxima asked again, several times, after days of beatings and sleepless nights, offering forgiveness until finally in disgust she shrugged her worm like body and said "I was going to blind you, scar you, put you to work with the cripples and beggers at the port to beg for scraps." She clicked a pair of jagged forceps together thoughtfully. "I should tear your tongue out for what you've done, but he wants your tongue intact"
Half conscious, Qi'ra realises there are new people in the dark of the room. Through swollen lips she asks "He?"
"yes, he, Qi'ra my dear. I have sold you to a slave dealer. You did not fetch a good price; disobedience is considered a very bad quality for a slave. But your other attributes were enough to interest him. I have full confidence that he will scour the fight right out of you."
Moloch tore her ragged shirt at the neck and jabbed a slavers wand onto her shoulder – she gasped in pain as with a hiss the device implanted a tracking chip into her flesh then flash branded a registry number onto her skin.
Lady Proxima turned to a figure in the background, a robed humanoid in a breathing mask.
"Labrun, she is all yours."
The figure stepped forward, it's two left arms holding its staff as one of its right arms pointed a tracking wand at Qi'ra. The device scanned the code and beeped acknowledgement.
"purchase registered"
Moloch cut her bindings with a pair of clawed shears and pulled Qi'ra to her feet. "You are now the property of Sarkin Enneb and I fear he won't be as kind to you as we were. Good luck charming Labrun, he's Morseerian and you Humans all look the same to him."
Qi'ra tried to stand but her legs gave out under her. When Moloch let go she collapsed to the floor, willing it to just open up and swallow her.
Labrun gestured to one of his guards, a muscular and armoured besalisk who picked her up as if she weighed nothing.
"what are you…" she managed to mumble before Labrun pulled a slave hood over her head and switched it on. The thick membrane shrank and clung to her head. She blacked out.
Sarkin Enneb was not kind.
The clunk of bolts releasing in the ceiling hatch jerked her back to the present . The light that flooded in was blinding to her dark adapted eyes but she could just make out three Ugnaughts. One held the light, another a pole with a loop on the end that he deftly slipped over her head and pulled tight before she registered what he was doing. She grabbed the pole as she was pulled up and out of the sump, choking as the cord bit into her neck. The Ugnaught pushed her down to the floor plating, holding her there while the third Ugnaught turned a hose on her. The high pressure water was meant to clear the sump pipes but it scoured the filth from her body, tearing at the rags that were all that was left of her clothes. Squealing in laughter the Ugnaughts hosed her down thoroughly, half drowning her by blasting her face when she struggled. When they were satisfied she was passably clean they turned off the hose and turned on the blower, sweeping the filthy water into the sump hatch then drying her off, leaving her damp and shivering on the metal floor.
Tugging on the pole leash they forced her to her feet and lead her from the room. She stumbled, limping as she'd lost two toes to the fleek eels that occasionally got into the pipes and the wound was angry and red with infection. One Ugnaught lead the way, the two others followed her, goading her on with short straps that made a painful slap on her legs.
Up they went in a cargo lift, closer to the surface than she'd been in a long while, down a corridor that was clean and brightly lit then through a door into a well-appointed office.
While she blinked in the light the Ugnaught locked the pole into the floor, with the noose end upmost, forcing her to stand on tiptoe or choke. Chuckling to itself it left to re-join the other two and head back to the under-levels.
Qi'ra clung to the pole, fighting to breathe and keep upright while the burning pain of her wounded foot made her nauseous.
She forced herself to look round the room, try to understand what was happening.
There were four people. Labrun, sat at his desk. His besalisk bodyguard behind him. A skinny rhodian data slicer at a console to the side. All were facing the fourth person, sitting at ease in the guest chair opposite Labrun.
"Well, here she is. Not broken her enough for the pleasure pits…"
"I'd rather fuck an Ugor!" she snaps, clinging to the pole to stand
Labrun sighs. "She's still stubborn and wilful with a smart mouth. So the options were forced labour or just sell her by weight as feed for the carnivores"
That makes an icy chill in the pit of her stomach
"Then Sarkin Enneb received your list of very specific requirements and thought of her"
"Very good. "
The stranger gestures to Labruns bodyguard. "Let her down". The Besalisk pulls a trowel like knife as it lumbers over and cuts the noose. Qi'ra still clings to the pole, willing herself not to fall.
The stranger gestures to an empty chair "Sit".
She part walks, part staggers to the chair and sits, exhausted. Gathering her wits she focuses on the stranger. He's a human, or one of the near human species, tall and handsome with an air of easy charm over a cold edge of ruthlessness and power. Broad shoulders, well dressed in a way she'd only seen pictures of, a pure white shirt open at the neck, black jacket with matching short cape over his left shoulder, matching slacks and shoes with a polished shine. Belt pouches, a wrist console and an ornate gold handled dagger of a design she'd never seen. Nothing he wore was worn, nothing was dirty, everything was obviously carefully chosen with taste. Sitting back with one leg up across the other, he meets her curious stare with an amused half smile.
There's a cold calculating cruelty in his gaze that makes her look away.
"Interesting…"
He lets the word hang a moment and she realises that everyone else has gone quiet and still.
"my name is Dryden Vos and I've been looking for someone with certain unusual qualities. My old friend
Sarkin Enneb thinks you may well be what I'm looking for"
His voice is warm, calm and clear. The words wash over her and she feels a shiver down her spine
"I need someone able to do extraordinary things for me, terrible things, without hesitation" He looks her over with a practised eye, a skinny slip of a Correllian girl on the verge of womanhood, half-starved and dressed in damp rags, hair matted and face a mass of aging bruises that tell a story of disobedience. But there's a poise to her, an awareness and driving will. He's impressed she's lasted this long.
"There is steel to you, girl. I like that."
Labrun interrupts "Sir, we have much better than this wretch, whatever your tastes"
Dryden Vos silences him with a gesture.
"Sarkin was sold you as a skilled thief with great promise, just led astray by still clinging to your hopes and dreams. Wishing will never get you out of here on its own. You need to put them aside and show me you have the will to do what is needed. I hear you've still a lot of fight in you, the trainers despair of teaching you even the basics of obedience, let alone how to serve and pleasure your owners. They kept you as a punching bag for the guards to use as they will, until you got your hand free and managed to kill a guard with the spike of his own belt buckle" He's leaning forward, intent on her. Red stripes flare on his face, too symmetrical for scars. A natural feature of his species? "that got my interest"
She tried to lift her head proudly, she was glad the brute had died
He sits back. "So, Impress me. Read the room. Most valuable item in here?
She laughs, humourlessly. "You. Your shoes are probably worth more than this building and everything in it. But I'd say you were too risky to steal from. You're protected, plus i think you're the sort who'd bear a grudge and hunt down a thief or pick pocket and punish them. So I'd go with something small and portable from someone else, probably a trinket off Labrun's desk."
"Weapons?"
"The Bodyguard has loads but never get in grapple range of a besilisk. Labrun has a staff and shock goad, plus something in that desk drawer he glances at when nervous, probably a pistol. The slicer has a boot knife and a holdout in his jacket. You have that knife on your belt."
He nods. "Escape routes?"
"Best is back the way I came and up the stairs to the right. The Besalisk has an old wound on his left side, between the arms. He favours his right. So round him to the left. Labrun is Moreseerian, breathes methane. Oxygen is corrosive to him. A small heavy object would shatter his goggles and he'd be out of the fight. The rhodian is a spice head, he's got the jitters so I'd say glitterstim. Fast but no skill, danger to everyone so give him a wide birth. You have your back to the door. Labrun does that to put people ill at ease. You're not. You have guards outside?"
He nods "A pair of my Hylobon Enforcers armed with JND-41 percussive cannons."
She flinches "With a needle beam function I hope? You don't bring artillery like that into a built up area unless you intend serious property damage."
"Of course. I just make sure my guards can deal with anything an enemy would dare to throw at me."
"like Devlin death squads and Grav tanks?"
His smile is cold. "Anything"
She slumps back into the chair, exhausted by the effort of just sitting upright.
"so what happens now?"
"Well, now you have a choice. I will make you an offer. You could choose to say no and go back to your suffering in the slave pits, to see if your body, mind or spirit breaks first. Or You could tell me you have lost the will to live, want to stop having to fight for every moment of survival. I'll pay your price in full and give you this knife and you can kill yourself here and now. You will be free at last."
She chokes a sob.
"Or you can choose to submit to me, to give yourself to me, body and soul, to do with as I wish. Put aside all ideas of Freedom and stop fighting. Accept you cannot win and that you no longer need to fight. I will buy you from Sarkin Enneb and pay to have all your records erased, wiping the slate clean. From the very bottom the only way you can go is up, and I will build you up to do amazing things. You have great potential and I promise it will be used to its fullest. But understand, I will own you, body and soul. You can never leave".
"and how is that better than death?"
"You'll have to trust me. I will make it so"
"you can do all that, can't you? I mean, you stole Labruns bodyguard with a look."
Labrun makes a startled choking noise and looks at her with smoked goggles
Qi'ra looks back at him. "He followed his orders without checking with you. This guy seriously outranks you"
Labrun turns and hisses angrily at his guard, but the Besalisk shrugs all his shoulders "Of course ah did, he's Crimson Vos!" he addresses Dryden directly "The old guys of this outfit, we still remember you helped the boss set up all this. The Crimson Dawn has a serious rep that all debts are repaid and loyalty is rewarded"
Dryden Vos nods, taking it as a compliment.
Qi'ra feels sick at the idea, but forces it down and asks "This is a lot of work for a scrumrat fuck toy. Surely you can have whoever you want?"
Dryden wags a finger "Oh, do not sell yourself so short. There will be so much more than that. But what I need is loyalty, passion and ruthlessness. Can you give me that?"
She looks away. Cursing to herself, the bodyguard has moved to totally block the door. She's trapped in here with Vos and his terrible choice. "and if I could?"
"You have my promise it will be exceptional".
"so I just sign my life away?"
"sign? No, I need something more deeply symbolic. Strip off those rags and kneel before me. Kneel and submit yourself to me, totally. Then your new life can begin"
Eyes wide she shakes her head.
Labrun laughs in his helmet, making the pressure valves splutter. "She's no use to you Sir, let me find someone better.."
Vos raises his hand. "Stop. These are the moments I savour most. The turning points, when life hangs in the balance. This is the last truly free choice she will ever make."
He watches Qi'ra intently, like a beast stalking prey.
"That's it. Let the hope die. Give up the dreams that torment you. Live with what you now have not the dreams of what you could have."
"Never dream of freedom? I'd rather die!"
"Truly?" He pulls the knife from his belt, offers it hilt first.
She looks at him accusingly "you're enjoying this"
"Of course".
Hesitantly she takes the knife. From the corner of the room the Rhodian giggles and the bodyguard gives a heavy sad sigh.
Labrun lowers his head "My apologies, sir. I thought she'd be stronger" but Vos's eyes have not left Qi'ra as she lifts the knife. She holds the tip to her throat, breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Live to the fullest. You promise?" She asks
"I only choose the best. I think you can be one of the greatest"
She hooks the blade into the collar of her ragged shift, pulling it down. The damp cloth parts on the energised blade with a hiss, revealing a valley of pale skin between her breasts. Not taking her eyes off Vos she slips one shoulder free, then the other, pulling the cloth back like she was shedding her skin, arms behind her as she pulled them free, her small pert breasts bare for all to see. The darker skin of her nipples is puckered from the cold. She stands, sure in her movements now and slits the waistband of her slacks and hands back the knife. Hooking both thumbs in the ruined material she slides it down, wiggling her hips free and stepping out. Vos looks her up and down, taking in her narrow waist and the curve of her hips, the story of resistance told by the bruises and burns on her skin, the pleasure slave treatment that has left her skin smooth and hairless apart from a thin strip of pubic hair between her legs, the faded laser brand of her slave number on her shoulder.
She puts her hands by her sides and takes a deep breathe. She's taken the first step.
Heart hammering, she takes the next.
She steps forward and drops to her knees as gracefully as she can manage. Knowing she needs to impress she settles back on her heels, lets her knees spread apart. Crossing her arms behind her, she draws herself up with her shoulders back, open and on display.
Lowering her head she softly says to him "I submit". The room is quiet and still as she asks "How should I address you, sir?"
His smile is triumphant. "I prefer the traditional titles. You may call me Master"
He touches his wrist console, lights flash deep in the black glass of the touchscreen. He confirms with a thumb print then gestures to the floor at the side of his chair.
"To my feet, girl".
"Yes, Master" She slides closer and he rests his hand possessively on the top of her head, pressing her cheek to his leg.
Vos nods at Labrun, who's sitting in shock. "Payment has been sent"
Labrun check s his desk console. "Payment received in full." Labrun makes a 'hurry up' gesture to the Rhodian who slips a data-cable into a port behind his ear-stalk and begins typing.
Labrun draws a slaver wand and points it at Qi'ra "The slave tracker implant is deactivated, I've sent you the activation codes"
The Rhodian clicks and hums to himself. "OK, I've deleted her records from the slave registry. I've also wiped her birth registry, her citizenship tokens, her Imperial arrest record and her Juvenile crime records. I've relabelled all physical records and samples they hold about her and tagged them 'expired/ to be destroyed'.
Qi'ra stares at the floor in numb horror as her past evaporates. Under his hand she's emptied out, wiped clean. She feels a hollow feeling of loss.
She's betrayed everything she hoped and dreamed for, given it all up to just survive. She struggles to rationalise it, that as long as she's alive she can get free, get off Corellia, get out and.. and.. she's never really had a firm plan for what comes after. For now, her instinct is just do anything to survive.
Labrun stands. "She's all yours, sir"
Dryden Vos stands, straightening his tunic "Very good!"
He bends down and whispers into Qi'ra's ear. "These is a blaster in the bag. See they do not leave this room alive". He stands and leaves the room, cape swirling.
She's left kneeling, naked, beside his empty chair. She shivers, feeling the most naked and helpless she's ever been. Beside the chair is a slim leather satchel. She reaches in. Wills her hand to not shake
The Besalisk doubles over, slapping his hands on his thighs and laughing "Wow, from sump bitch to Dryden Vos's personal slave in a day. Looks like Fate is smiling on you today!"
In the satchel is a short barrelled Blastek heavy blaster pistol. Her fingers explore, feeling how the barrel is fat from a galvin upgrade overcharging the filaments around the blast chamber. Short range but hellishly powerful. Her hand closes round the grip.
She gets unsteadily to her feet, clutching the satchel to her. Labrun waves her away with a dismissive gesture "stay with your Master, girl" and rounds on his bodyguard. "Have you forgotten who you work for?!"
The Besalisk is unapologetic "He's Dryden vos, boss. The Dryden Vos!"
Qi'ra interrupts them "He has a message for you" and extends her arm straight. She shoots the bodyguard square in the face, the blaster bolt a fiery orange red as it erupts from the barrel and vaporizes his head instantly.
Labrun is frozen for a second and she takes a double handed grip, putting the next bolt into his chest, burning straight through and rupturing his breathing gas canisters in an explosion of blue flame.
The data splicer has jumped to his feet, stimmed up reflexes sending console and cables flying as he grabs for his holdout pistol and tries to dive for cover. She exhales, following his dive as he hits the floor, fumbling the pistol from its holster and sending it spinning across the floor.
She shoots him in the chest, not trusting herself to hit anything smaller and the bolt blows a ragged hole through him.
She lets the gun drop to her side, hearing the blasters overheated barrel filaments pop and arc.
She's alone in the room with three corpses. Three people she's killed
She feels a rush of power and horror. The smell of burning flesh and the ozone of the blaster bolts catches in her throat and she doubles over a chair, heaving but vomiting nothing but stomach acid and watery bile as she's not eaten in days.
She just killed three people. She feels the panic rise. For him. She just killed three people for Him. Her Master. His slave for a few minutes and she's killed three people. She fights down the panic. No, For her. She needed this. This was a way out. This is the price of getting out.
She stumbles for the exit.