Chapter Two
Trip wandered the room, talking to people, idly eating the buffet offerings, only half paying attention to the auction as it wound down. At least until Fotter broke through the post auction chatter.
"We have a late entry," he called out, as everyone turned back to him. Movement in the shadows behind the Master Sergeant drew all eyes, and a large, massive, green man dressed in not much leather stepped forward.
Trip's brows shot up- they were supposed to bet on this? Then his jaw dropped as the man yanked slightly on a chain in his hand, and a woman followed him out of the gloom.
Not just any woman. This exquisite creature had long, tousled black hair, up-turned black eyes surrounded by thick lashes, and a luscious red mouth. Her lithe body was covered in even less leather than her companion's; only a few strategically placed straps that looked like they would succumb to the call of gravity in an instant covered her. It was her skin, though, that drew attention, a lighter, more delicate color than the man's, an almost leaf green to his darker forest green.
"An Orion slave girl," Trip whispered to himself. He had heard of these women, hell, who hadn't, but he had never seen one. Watching, mesmerized, he gaped like a schoolboy as she accepted the hand of her guard, mounting the crate with a swing of her hips to stand defiantly before them all, as if she wasn't wearing a collar with a chain, as if she wasn't there to be sold. A small thread of recognition tugged at Trip, he knew she had to be one of the crew, but he couldn't place her.
"Umm, yes, well, shall I start the bidding at fifty credits?" Fotter managed to get out. The woman glanced at him through her lashes and smiled, and to his embarrassment the older man actually blushed.
"Do I hear fifty? Anyone want to give me fifty?" The room was still, only the amused shifting of most of the women and a few of the men at the stunned looks on their crewmates faces.
"No one wants to bid fifty?" The slave girl pouted at the crowd, sighing deeply.
"Hundred," Major Hayes croaked.
She smiled sweetly at the MACO, prompting someone else to shout 'Two hundred' and the auction took off. Trip could only stare at her as the offers went higher and higher, the woman flirting outrageously with all the bidders.
Nine hundred, fourteen hundred, two thousand… Trip snapped out of his trance with a strident "Five thousand!".
The good-natured ribbing by those who weren't participating stopped instantly at his bid, and everyone turned to look at Trip. He, however, was still staring at the slave girl, who was looking back in shock.
"Five thousand," he repeated, chin up, his look stubborn.
"Five thousand," Fotter echoed. "I have five thousand going once, going twice… sold, to Commander Tucker for five thousand."
In the dead silence the guard reached out to the woman, who absent-mindedly accepted his help down off the crate. The crowd parted before him as he led the woman to Trip, placing the light chain in his hand. Trip just looked at it a moment, then followed the dull gray links to the collar at the neck, then up to her smiling face.
"Now what?" he managed to get out, still stunned that he had made that incredible bid, and won her.
"Now, dinner. And after…" She let the suggestion hang in the air between them. Trip wondered at her accent, soft, and lilting, with a strange inflection on the vowels.
"Dinner? Here?"
Laughing, she shook her head, and Trip smiled at the sweet sound. "Your cabin?" She phrased it as a question, but it was more a statement of fact.
He nodded. Anything she'd suggest he'd agree to. "My cabin's fine."
"Meet me there in ten minutes." Trip nodded again, and she slowly peeled his fingers out of the fist he had made around the chain. The rattle brought him back, and frowned.
"Take it off," he told her companion. The man reached for the chain, but Trip stopped him. "The collar too."
The man paused, then waited as the woman moved the silk curtain of her hair aside so he could unlock the collar from the back. She arched her neck as the thick leather piece came off, running her hand over the slim column of her neck. Giving Trip a small smile of thanks, she tuned and walked out of the mess hall, followed by her guard and everyone's eyes.