The Zygerrian made a slow circle around Hera, cataloging every detail to determine how much she was really worth. "Good skin tone. Decent bone structure in the face. Arms are too thin for manual labor.

Kanan stomped down his indignation at the callous assessment. "But you're not going to use her for construction, are you, friend? That's what Gamorreans are for."

The slaver ignored his comment. A clawed hand cupped Hera's chin and tilted her head up; she quickly diverted her eyes from his and adopted a posture of pure submission. It disturbed Kanan how easily she did that. "Three thousand seems a little steep for a Twi'lek. I can buy two of them for that price."

"Sure, if you want mediocre product." Kanan started his own circle around both Hera and the Zygerrian. He lifted his arms in a shrug. "But think about how good she'd look walking behind you in gold chains. She looks good in gold." Hera shot him the briefest look; he knew she was struggling not to chew both of them out for talking about her like she was a housecat. "And how many Twi'leks with green skin are there on Tilo Prime? I'm guessing not a whole lot. Would earn you a lot of attention."

The Zygerrian didn't respond; his focus had moved from her face to the necklace. He grasped it and tore it away before either of them could react. Kanan sucked in a breath while Hera's hands instinctively went to cover the scar. The Zygerrian held her hands down and eyed the puckered flesh. "What was that about 'mediocre product'?"

Kanan quickly stepped up, but kept his voice neutral. "An incident from before I took possession of her. Believe me, I know it's not pretty to look at, but it's an easy cover-up. And you'll forget all about it once she starts working. She's good at what she does."

The felinoid dropped her hands and glared at Kanan for a beat. He started his circle again, slower this time, his golden gaze more critical. Hera's breathing sped up when he stopped at her back; she kept her eyes fixed on Kanan as an anchor to keep herself from doing something stupid. The buyer trailed the back of one sharp claw down her bare spine, making her shiver in disgust. Kanan caught the vicious spark in her eyes when that same hand flattened on her hip. But he didn't have time to stop her reaction: she turned and smacked the offending hand away with enough force to make an audible crack. Once again, Kanan held his breath, this time with a hand poised over the blaster on his right hip.

Of all the possible outcomes, he didn't expect the Zygerrian to laugh. "She has fire, I'll give her that." Hera seemed to finally remember where she was and quickly dropped her head and hunched her shoulders. He leaned in close to whisper against her ear cone, "I'll enjoy breaking you of that."

Now it was Kanan's turn to squash down the instinctive urge to rip this monster apart. If worse came to worse, Hera could handle herself. He repeated that in his head until his anger receded to a simmering ache. "See, you're not just paying for the product, but the experience. You'll be getting your money's worth, trust me."

As if the unwelcome touch on her hip wasn't bad enough, the one to her left lek was downright menacing. She shook in revulsion. "I've no doubt of that. I still say three thousand is too much. I'll give you fifteen hundred."

Kanan put a hand to his heart in mock hurt. "You wound me, friend. It's bad enough I've got to unload my favorite slave, but for half the asking price? I'm insulted. Twenty five."

The Zygerrian didn't take his eyes off Hera; surely he was thinking about all the ways he could break her spirit and turn her into a good little servant. "Eighteen. You're still trying to sell damaged product, human."

"Two thousand and you've got a deal. I'm already losing money on this."

A long moment passed. Then another. "Fine." The slaver pulled an unmarked credit chip from the pouch at his side and handed it to Kanan, who quickly put it in his pocket. "Aren't you going to make sure it's all there?"

Kanan lifted a shoulder in a lopsided shrug. "I trust ya. Take care of her, friend. Treat her good and she'll do anything for you."

"Are you telling me how to treat my own property?" Kanan remained silent under that piercing gaze. "I didn't think so." He moved behind Hera again, this time raising the necklace over her head to hide her scar again. The gentility in his touch was a grim echo of how Kanan had fastened the clasp back on the Ghost. He could see Hera's arms begin to tremble; whether from anger or fear he wasn't so sure anymore. "You're still here?" the Zygerrian sneered, his hands closing possessively around Hera's shoulders.

"Just taking one last look at my best piece of merchandise." He hated the words, hated saying them even more. "Be a good girl." He hated saying those even more. But one look at Hera's eyes, hardened with determination and an impressive amount of restraint, and he remembered that this was an act. He didn't mean the things he said and she knew it. They were both playing parts, nothing more, nothing less. And if everything went according to plan it would all be over soon and they could go back to normal.

But knowing that didn't make it any easier to turn and walk away, to leave her (literally) in the hands of a being who was capable of stars knew what.