CHAPTER 8: Alien Baddies

It had been a long and uncomfortable afternoon. The Delta Platform was little more than glorified space junk from all that Rose had been able to see. Granted, she hadn't been given the chance to see much. After the Cologians had docked, she'd been bound and escorted off the ship at blaster point.

Rose had hoped that she might be able to escape her captors on their way to the slave pits, but the populace of the space port had appeared generally unfriendly and unsympathetic, leering at her as she was paraded past. And the smells and sounds were not encouraging. A wholey disreputable place, she decided, and almost laughed when her mind jumped to the cantina scene from the original Star Wars from her home universe. Bah, she thought almost cheerily, where was Han Solo when you needed him?

But Rose Tyler was never really the type of girl who waited around for the hero to rush in and save the day. She was quite resourceful , and she had a few tricks up her sleeves or, more literally on this day, concealed in the hem of her skirt. She would just have to bide her time. Hence, the long, uncomfortable afternoon.

She'd been taken to a cell, one cell among hundreds, and her bound wrists were secured to a hook above her head. She'd cajoled a passing guard into explaining what was going to happen. Apparently, the prospective buyers would be given several hours to inspect the merchandise, by which Rose knew he meant the captives all around her, before the auction would commence in the evening.

And then it had begun: the parade of baddies. A steady stream of potential buyers moved throughout the cell block, some stopping to look at her or to question the guards about her, often making unsavory comments about her in the process. Granted, most of them didn't know that she could understand whatever it was that they were saying, but that didn't make it less demeaning or gross The guards would dutifully read off the information that they had on her from a computerized clipboard: Rose Tyler; home planet, earth; 26 years of age according to earth calendar; capable of child-bearing; fit for labor; high intelligence; specifically gifted in language translation and diplomacy. And, then, at the end of their litany about her was Rose's favorite part: potential threat of escape or insurgency, high.

Very few of the customers thought to address her personally, but some interactions couldn't be helped. For example, the Sycorax had deigned to stop by hoping to intimidate her and rubbing it in that she could look forward to a very bloody and very public death at their hands in the near future. And while it might have been prudent to hold her tongue, she just couldn't help herself with that lot. She'd smiled breezily and insulted their honor and their masculinity at the top of her voice and in the most common dialect she could muster (all in the hearing of several of their similarly-seeking-intergalactic-domination peers, she was happy to see). She went so far as to challenge the leader to a second swordfight, very bloody and very public, according to their traditional rules of combat. At which point, the Sycorax decided to preserve what little they could of their dignity and walk away with her hurling colorful insults at their brood mothers in their wake.

Many of the other interactions in which she participated left her similarly satisfied with herself. However, there was one particularly creepy interaction with a lizard-ish alien that just left her feeling like she needed a hot, hot shower. And as the hours passed, Rose concluded that being ogled and gloated over by such a series of perverts and petty warlords may just be the worst form of torture in the galaxy.

Finally, an alarm sounded, announcing to the buyers that the auction was about to start. Thank God! Rose thought. She surveyed the area around her cell; there was still a guard, but at the moment he was distracted by a cell that held a harem whose owner was planning to sell the whole lot at once. He'd gotten into some trouble gambling on the Xetecie Space Races, Rose had overheard earlier, and had to liquidate his assets fast. Of all the stupid bloody injustices, Rose thought furiously, but the sooner I get out of this, the sooner I can help.

She pulled gingerly at her restraints. Her muscles were tired and taunt from being positioned over her head, but she hoped that she could still pull this off. She turned her hands so that she could grip the front and back of the hook over which her tied wrists had been suspended. Then, she slipped out of her heels and gave a mighty jump, she flipped her lower body up so she could get her toes onto the cell wall behind her. From this egg-like position, ignoring the pain in her wrists where the ropes were now cutting into her skin, she gingerly removed a razor blade from the hem of her skirt. Then, she flipped down again, and slipped her shoes on before the guard had even turned around.

The prisoner in the next cell, an old man who'd been accused of stealing from his last master, was staring at her in wonder, and Rose smiled at him and made a soft shushing sound. Then, she got to work on her bonds.

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Jack had no difficulty docking his ship. And after he'd paid for parking, he, Jake, and Mickey walked down the main thoroughfare towards the slave pits. On his ship, he'd warned Mickey and Jake that the majority of the aliens that they'd see wouldn't be humanoid or familiar. After all, it was only the twenty-first century and humanity hadn't yet begun to colonize. Heck, they'd barely made it past the solar system. But, he'd assured them that if they didn't draw attention to themselves by doing anything stupid, they shouldn't encounter any problems.

"Been here before then?" Mickey asked quietly between his teeth as he surveyed their dubious surroundings.

"Once or twice," Jack replied nonchalantly. "Why, don't you like it?"

"Not really. No," Mickey answered. "Doesn't seem like a very nice place."

"It's not. That's why we're not planning on being here very long. You boys might start to make the place respectable."

They continued walking through a nearly deserted market, but the rubbish left behind and number of venders seemed to indicate that the place was normally swarming. Suddenly, they heard a loud bell ring out over the platform's announcement system. "That'll be the last call for the auction," Jack explained. "We're almost at the slave pits, and that's where everyone will have gone. Just be prepared to keep your heads down and your mouths shut. It's not going to be pretty."

When they arrived at the slave pits, Jake and Mickey gasped at the spectacle before them. A crowd of several thousand aliens of various shapes and sizes were seated below them in a large amphitheater with a small stage at the focal point. At the top of the make-shift bleachers, several large brown aliens were checking in guests, collecting any weapons detected by their scanners and assigning auction numbers.

"Those are the Pecallix," Jack indicated the large bear-like creatures with a slight nod. "They're the crime family who run the Delta Platform and pretty much the whole of the Raddadish System. You could compare them to a mafia family back on earth, except for the fact that they've been in business since before humans started using tools. They're intimidating enemies to say the least." He looked hard at his companions. "You guys sure you want to do this?"

"Yeah." Mickey responded, his eyes serious but without fear.

"Absolutely," came from Jake who looked equally relaxed. "But how?"

Jack smiled at the apparent nerve of his two Torchwood associates. Maybe there was more to them after all. He turned on his heel and walked away from the pit with Mickey and Jake following, "Back door's this way."

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A/N- Hope you guys are enjoying this one so far. I'm having fun. Please read and review.