A/N: And hello there, everyone, welcome to the next chapter of this story. Not too long a wait, compared to some of my other stories at least, now was it? Well, in any case, here we are with the next steps along Gaz's journey towards where we saw her in the opening scene. And don't worry, Zim and Dib will get something to do in this story, too, starting in this chapter.
TW: This chapter contains dehumanizing amounts of sexual harassment and abuse, things that I DO NOT condone in real life, nor should any decent person. Just something you should all know to brace yourself for.
Okay, that all said, read on!
Disclaimer: I still don't own Invader Zim, and honestly, I probably have a better chance of being hit by lightning than ever doing so.
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Gaz stood ramrod straight in a darkened room, barely able to see the shadowed shapes of the various objects within it through the dim red glow of what she assumed were emergency light strips lining the doors that had closed behind the Fornaxians when they'd marched her in here and told her to stand in the middle of the room and wait. Not that she would have been able to look around even if she could properly see anything – with the control collar still active, her eyes were still the only part of her body she could move. She'd been straining and applying all her willpower for what felt like hours, but not a single muscle would respond to her brain's commands, leaving her standing there like a breathing mannequin, unable to do anything but silently and angrily contemplating what had happened.
She could not believe that she had let herself slip up like that. She'd been in far worse situations than fighting a bunch of misogynistic overgrown iguanas, so how the hell had they managed to actually beat her? And now here she was, powerless to even move, much less fight back as she was carted off to some hellhole of a planet, to be sold off presumably as some alien's eye candy or plaything. And sure, she was positive that she'd be able to break free and escape eventually, but how much would she have been humiliated and defiled by then?
The one bright side was that she just knew that between the two of them, Zim and Dib were bound to notice she was missing sooner or later, and considering what they were capable of when they actually shut up and used their brains, they would probably be able to track her down and rescue her. But frankly, that just made her pride rankle – despite the seriousness of the situation, she still hated the idea of needing to be saved from danger like some damsel in distress.
"Especially since between Dib's overprotectiveness and Zim's ego, I'd never hear the end of it," she mentally grumbled, only for her train of thought to be cut off as light panels in the room's ceiling suddenly sprang to bright life, nearly blinding Gaz, as she was unable to even close her eyes to shield them from the shift in lighting.
It took a few moments for Gaz's vision to readjust to the new light and clear up, by which time the doors had slid open, allowing Captain Wrennock and his two lackies to walk in and close the doors back up behind them. Gaz glared at the trio, but took some internal smug satisfaction at the sight of the metal patch tied to the side of the Captain's head, holding medical gauze in place against the eye she'd gouged.
Good, she hoped he ended up losing the eye altogether. It was the least amount of pain she owed him for this degradation.
"I do hope you've been comfortable, little miss ape," Wrennock sneered, pure bile in his good eye.
"'ck 'oo," Gaz replied as best she could with her mouth immobilized, which only made him chuckle nastily.
"Go ahead, keep that defiant streak going, we'll see how long it lasts before it gets broken out of you by whoever we sell you to," he said, smirking at her, "But in the meantime, we'll need to do a medical exam to make sure you're in prime condition; can't have some minor injury or treatable genetic defect lowering your price, after all. Now then, strip down completely."
"WHHH?!" Gaz screamed through her paralyzed lips, face burning with indignation and rage at the command, which only grew as her body robotically obeyed Wrennock. She resisted as best she could, desperately trying to will herself to stop, but it was all in vain, and soon all her clothes were piled on the floor, leaving her totally exposed to the Fornaxians.
"Uh, sir? We could have just vaporized her clothes off of her with the Cloth Remover," Gronar pointed out, something that Kemno demonstrated by wheeling over a large cannon-looking device, which fired off a blast of greenish-yellow light that hit Gaz's discarded clothes, instantly reducing them to dust.
"I know, but it's so much more fun to have her humiliate herself like this," Wrennock laughed, which only made Gaz's impotent rage grow, "Now, scan her."
"Yessir," Gronar said, holding up a pad and tapping in a command. In response, the floor lit up with bluish-white light, beams of the same color running up and down Gaz's bare body. After a few seconds of this, several holographic screens popped into existence in the air around her, displaying everything about her – a genetic scan, her organs, her bones, her nervous system, her musculature, and everything else imaginable – for them to examine.
"Everything looks good… I think," Gronar said, admitting the last part with a shrug, "We don't have her species in our databanks to set up a baseline to compare her scans to, but her immune system and organs all seem to functioning properly, she doesn't have any injuries outside of some bruising from when we restrained her, and her DNA doesn't appear to have any damage. Judging by the length of her telomeres, she's still on the earlier end of adulthood, so we can sell how she potentially still has a lot of years of use left in her. Good body fat to muscle ratio, wide hips, firm buttocks, naturally large mammary glands…"
"I've never understood why most mammals find these things so attractive," Kemno said, while he casually poked one of Gaz's breasts, causing her humiliation and rage to rachet up several more points.
"'m 'unna' 'cukin' 'll 'oo!" she screamed, glaring bloody murder at him, which to her very small amount of satisfaction made him flinch and pull back despite her inability to act on her threat.
"Er, right. Anyway, all this taken into account tells me that she's definitely first-tier quality," Gronar continued.
"Good, she'd better be after all the trouble she's caused us," Wrennock grumbled, before shaking off his clear disdain and slipping back into professional apathy, "Scrub her down, get some healing salves on those bruises, outfit her properly, and then stick her in a holding cell. And make sure she and the rest are secure this time!"
"Yessir!" the underlings said with salutes. Wrennock nodded, giving Gaz one more sneer before turning and leaving the room. And Gaz, for her part, was unable to do anything in return but stand there, shaking with rage as Gronar and Kemno set about treating her like an animal being prepped for sale at market.
"Screw my pride, those two nitwits better come rescue me soon…"
Earth, Some Time Later
As the sun slowly started to drift down towards the horizon, a hovercar flew in to land on the curb in front of Zim's base. As it parked and powered down, a rear door popped open to allow the disguised GIR to flop out onto the pavement, Minimoose floating out after him, while Dib and Zim emerged from the driver's and passenger's seats, respectively, deep in conversation. Which for them, meant arguing over anything that came up.
"I still can't see how you managed to get a license, you're a terrible driver," Zim scoffed, as he walked towards his front door.
"You don't get to complain, I've seen how you fly," Dib replied flatly, adjusting his trench coat as he locked up his car behind him; Gaz often rolled her eyes at how he still insisted on wearing one even after officially moving past his paranormal investigator days, but he thought it worked just as well with his new business persona, thank you very much.
"That is simply because of the outdated technology that the Tallest saddled me with that I've had to compensate for," Zim scoffed, "Whereas you humans are just for the most part incompetent at everything."
"I'd take offense at that, if I hadn't just seen that video online of an entire crowd of people failing to get out of a building because not one of them realized they were supposed to pull on the exit door instead of pushing," Dib said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off a sudden headache at the memory, "You know, considering that we're trying to uplift the entirety of the human race, you think we can do something about the global average IQ at some point?"
"Zim is a genius, not a miracle worker," Zim replied dryly, before shoving the front door open and entering his base, "Gaz-Mate, Zim has returned! Oh, and your stink-sibling is joining us for dinner, unfortunately."
"Do you have to call her 'mate'? I don't need those mental images," Dib said, eye twitching lightly, which earned a snort from Zim.
"We have been a couple for years, Dib-Monkey, you should be used to the idea of what we do in private, even if it isn't any of your business," he said with a laugh, only to frown and look around in confusion, "Huh, I would have thought that she'd have come out and smacked us for those last couple of sentences by now."
"She's not home, she went out for lunch and never came back," the Computer stated, causing Zim's frown to deepen.
"Hmm, strange, she doesn't normally stay out that long for no reason. Call her to check in," he ordered, ignoring how needy he sounded in the moment. He and Dib stood there in an awkward silence for a few moments, waiting for the call to connect, only to be greeted by a loud beep.
"The call's going straight to Gaz's voicemail, should I leave a message?" the Computer asked.
"Wait, what? Straight to voicemail, no delay?" Dib asked, "That doesn't make any sense. That'd only happen if she turned her phone off completely, and she never does that, in case of emergency."
"True, even at the movies or overnight, she just puts it on silent," Zim mused, frown by this point having turned into a look of actual concern, "Computer, forget about Gaz's phone, ping the GPS on her Game Slave's wi-fi."
"…Does Gaz know you can use her Game Slave to track her location?" Dib asked, arching an eyebrow at Zim in disbelief.
"Of course she does!" Zim said defensively, only to wince and add, "Though, she also said that if I ever did it for anything less than an emergency, she'd rip my PAK off and shove it down my throat. So, honestly, a part of me's almost hoping something did happen…"
"Well, you can ask her yourself, I've found her. Or at least, found the Game Slave," the Computer commented, a screen dropping from the ceiling and depicting a map of the city, before focusing in on one specific spot, a light blipping on it.
"Isn't that the New Army store that closed down last week? Why would Gaz be there? Even if it was still open, she buys all her clothes online," Dib said, now deeply confused.
"Let's go ask her. Come on," Zim snapped, turning and marching back out of the house, Dib right behind him. They passed by GIR and Minimoose, who had stopped to play in the yard (well, GIR had, Minimoose was just watching him roll around on the ground), which they stopped doing to watch the two of them pass by.
"Oooh, we gonna go bet on the ponies, Master?" GIR asked excitedly.
"…I don't even want to know why those words just came out of your mouth," Zim said after stopping to stare blankly at his robot for a brief moment, shaking it off to keep heading back to Dib's car, "No, Gaz may be in danger, and Zim must rush to her rescue!"
"Hang on, I'm her brother, I'm the one who's supposed to jump to overprotective conclusions," Dib stated as he got into the car, allowing Zim and the robots in as well, "I mean, it's Gaz we're talking about. Even if this is something more serious than her phone dying without her noticing, I'm sure she can handle it."
"Maybe, but Zim will only be reassured when I hear that affirmation from her own mouth," the Irken replied with a frown.
He and Dib then descended into a tense silence as the car flew across town towards the coordinates now displayed on a screen being projected by Zim's PAK. It took twenty minutes, but soon they reached the shuttered New Army store, the front door of which had rather conspicuously been knocked off its hinges, leaving the entrance to the store wide open.
"Okay, now I'm starting to get a little worried. Something about this feels wrong," Dib commented as they got out of the car and approached the forced-open door.
"Glad to see your snail-brain finally catching up, Dib-Monkey," Zim grumbled, eyes darting about the darkened interior of the store, taking in everything and searching for possible ambush. Seeing nothing but abandoned mannequins and stacks of cheap clothing that the store's corporate management apparently hadn't bothered to order removed from the property yet, he only slightly relaxed, and stealthily made his way through the store in search of any sign of Gaz.
Yes, he could be stealthy when he wanted to be, no matter what Dib said.
And it was in this stealthy mode that he approached the rear of the store, only to suddenly stop short. Dib, standing right behind him, nearly crashed into his back but managed to catch himself at the last second. Once he had, he opened his mouth to question Zim's sudden stop, only for Zim to silently shush him with a raised hand, before gesturing towards where his ears would be if he were human. Taking the cue, Dib titled his head to listen more careful, and picked up on what Zim had heard – the muffled sound of someone talking somewhere nearby. The voice wasn't clear, but it definitely sounded feminine, so that was something at least.
The pair made their way towards the direction of the voice, belatedly noticing light coming through the crack of a partially-opened door near the back of the building, separating the hallway of changing rooms from the rest of the store. Approaching it, Zim gently pushed the door open further to look inside, and blinked in confusion at what he saw.
Velinda stood in the middle of the hallway in front of a full-length mirror, looking herself over. She had removed the slave bikini she'd been wearing when Gaz had encountered her, now wearing a red crop top and khaki shorts, which was evidently only the latest outfit she'd tried on, as a large pile of discarded clothes were laying across the floor around her.
"Hmm, yes, I like this one too," Velinda mused to herself, clearly the voice the boys had heard, "Definitely adding this to the list of things I'm keeping. Hmm, but I should probably look for shoes at some point, and something to cover my head with in order to blend in more; that girl did make it sound like most of her people don't have knowledge of other species, after all."
As Velinda continued to think aloud, Zim and Dib watched her carefully from the doorway, both confused. Neither of them knew who she was, why she was here, or why Gaz's signal had led them to her. But before it could occur to either of them to try and think of a way to gently alert her to their presence and hopefully get some answers in a peaceful manner, Zim's eyes widened as his gaze fell on something familiar – specifically, Gaz's hoodie, draped over a chair, her Game Slave clearly poking out of one of its pockets.
SLAM
Velinda jumped in surprise and spun around to face the door, which Zim had just flung fully open so he could enter the hallway to glare at her.
"Where did you get that?!" he demanded, pointing at the hoodie. In response, Velinda screamed and picked up the chair, throwing it at Zim. Caught off guard by this, he wasn't able to dodge it in time, and it smacked into him hard enough to send him flying backwards into Dib. As the two of them fell into a heap on the floor, Velinda seized the opportunity to rush past them and out the door, running blindly into the rest of the store.
"GIR! Minimoose! Stop her!" Zim yelled as he and Dib struggled to untangle from each other. In response, GIR – who been throwing on random pieces of clothing he passed as he wandered through the store – popped up in front of the fleeing Velinda, who skidded to a halt.
"Hi!" he said cheerfully, blue eyes glowing out of the mound of hats and shirts piled on his head. Velinda just gave another scream and turned to run in another direction, only for Minimoose to telekinetically grab her, leaving her dangling in mid-air.
"AH! Let me go, let me go, let me go!" she screamed, struggling frantically but futilely.
"You're not going anywhere!" Zim snapped as he stomped over, Gaz's hoodie clutched in one hand and Dib right behind him, "Now tell me why you have my mate's personal items, and where she is!"
"I, I, I," Velinda stammered, eyes wide.
"TELL ME!" Zim roared, PAK legs deploying to point directly into Velinda's face.
"EEEEEEEE!" Velinda gave an ear-piercing screech, before her eyes rolled up in her head and she suddenly went limp in Minimoose's grip, leaving Zim and Dib to blink and stare at her, dumfounded.
"…Did she just pass out like a fainting goat?" Dib asked in disbelief.
"Er, yes, looks like it," Zim said, awkwardly staring at Velinda for a minute before shaking it off and withdrawing his PAK legs, "Never mind, let's just get her back to my base, so we can interrogate her properly when she regains consciousness."
Dib felt like there was probably a moral or ethical reason to protest that plan, but since this alien woman was their only apparent lead on where Gaz had disappeared to, he decided not to think about that too hard. Instead, he followed Zim and the robots outside, quickly hopping back into the car as Velinda was locked into the trunk, and taking off as soon as everyone was inside, the atmosphere incredibly tense as they were all left quietly wandering just what was going on.
Fornax, Several Hours Later
Dramatically fitting for a world whose entire culture was built around slave trading, Fornax was a bleak planet. Its red supergiant of a sun took up most of the sky, looming like a bloodshot eye glaring down at the bleak surface, most of which was covered in mega-cities of sprawling needle-shaped towers and blocky buildings that gave off feelings of oppression. The shadowy artificial canyons of the lower levels created by these super skyscrapers were wretched hives of lawless near-anarchy where everything went, as the planet's ruling plutocratic oligarchy kept their focus solely on the upper levels where they ran their businesses.
And yes, there were a great many businesses active on Fornax. After all, even a civilization dedicated towards a singular goal still needed people to provide food, clothing, welfare, maintenance, and other services in order to stay afloat. But even all these businesses were tied into and dominated by Fornax's slavery industry, which provided cheap labor for these other sectors domestically even while selling them offworld to unscrupulous interstellar business empires for the same purpose. There were always those, no matter where you went in the galaxy, who needed factory workers, miners, household servants, and cannon fodder soldiers, but didn't want to have to pay them fare wages. And then there was the Fornaxians' most prized source of revenue, tailor-made by their proud and blatant misogyny – females of various species from all corners of space, abducted and sold to act as sources of pleasure both visually and carnally.
Quonor Slave Retailers was one of the most preeminent purveyors of pleasure slaves in Fornax's wide flesh market. Oh, they sold plenty of other types of slaves, but they were renowned for having the best of the best females up for sale to only the richest of the galaxy's corrupt elites. And it was here, at Quonor's headquarters, that Wrennock's ship landed, gliding through an opening in the roof to come to rest alongside numerous other identical vessels. Once it had settled in place, its ramp lowered to allow Wrennock to exit, Gronar and Kemno following behind him.
"Well, it's about time!" a golden-scaled Fornaxian in turquoise robes said as he approached the arrivals, followed by a pair of guards of his own, "What took you so long, Wrennock? And what happened to your eye?"
"Slight problem with this latest batch, Overseer Lemer," Wrennock replied with a scowl, before nodding at his underlings.
"Slaves, advance!" Kemno ordered, voice raised to carry into the ship. In response, a group of twenty females of various species marched robotically down the ramp, all of them wearing the same style of slave bikini that Velinda had been wearing, albeit in various other colors of metal and cloth. And bringing up the rear was Gaz, her bikini being gold-colored metal and maroon cloth – and she could have sworn it had been cut smaller than was properly proportional for her, leaving her feeling like every movement would either flash something down below or cause the top to pop off, but that might have just been her self-consciousness talking. After all, between that examination and the underlings scrubbing her with soapy brushes like they were performing a carwash, her dignity had already been dragged through the mud. Being made to change into the bikini and then stand around in a dark cell with the other paralyzed captives hadn't down her mood any favors.
"Need to remember to save a beating for those two also after I'm done with this asshole," Gaz mentally muttered as Wrennock led his apparent supervisor down the line of captives to eventually stop in front of her.
"What's this thing? Where's the Moraxian that was on your list?" Lemer asked, looking Gaz over intently.
"That was the problem I mentioned, sir. The Moraxian escaped thanks to an equipment malfunction and fled in an escape pod to some pissant little mudhole of a planet we were passing by. Naturally, we chased after her, but by the time we caught up she was long gone, and we encountered this ape," Wrennock explained, gesturing to Gaz, who did her best to incinerate him with the intensity of her glare, "She refused to cooperate and tell us where the escapee went, so we decided to take her as compensation. She resisted, and managed to damage my eye before being restrained."
"You got injured by a female ape almost half your size?" Lemer sneered, "You must be getting soft in your old age."
"She is… surprisingly strong," Wrennock grumbled, "I'd suggest keeping her collar activated until after whomever we sold her to has been warned and has her properly restrained."
"You stick to catching slaves, I'll handle processing and selling them, thank you," Lemer scoffed, as he glanced at a datapad he was holding, "Hmm, well, assuming this medical scan you did of her is accurate, at least you managed to acquire someone worth something. But in any case, since you're so far behind schedule, she and the rest of this batch will have to be the last bunch of pleasure slaves we sell at today's auction. Just be glad we'll still be able to squeeze them in before moving onto the other classes, or you'd be kissing your crew's finder's fee goodbye."
Despite the situation, Gaz took some small amount of satisfaction from the annoyed and frustrated look on Wrennock's face at how his boss was talking so dismissively towards him. Unfortunately, she didn't have long to enjoy it, as soon after she and the other captives were ordered to march out of the room, heading down a long metal hallway. Gaz wasn't sure how long the subsequent walk was, just that by the time the group came to a stop outside a set of doors, her feet were sore and aching.
Seriously, why the hell weren't any of the enslaved captives allowed to wear shoes? Did these reptilian assholes all have a foot fetish in addition to the general misogyny?
While she was angrily pondering that, Lemer shuffled through the doors, beyond which she could barely make out the sound of his voice and another engaging in a hushed conversation. After a few moments of this, the second voice loudly announced, "Good news, valued customers! Despite technical difficulties delaying their arrival, we do have one more block of pleasure slaves for auction today before we move on to the less interesting work slaves. So please, don't shift over to those slimmer bank accounts just yet!"
"Advance," Wrennock ordered, and the captives marched into the room, walking along the back wall until they were ordered to stop and turn to face their apparent audience. As they did, Gaz realized they were standing at the back of what looked like a runway from a fashion show, the runway itself stretching out midway into the rest of the room. Said runway was surrounded on its other three sides by dozens of lounge couches, each filled with aliens of various species, but all clearly male, and dressed in the types of gaudy outfits that could only belong to people so rich that they didn't have to worry about what other people thought of their looks.
"Right then, first up is this lovely Sondarian, closer to middle-aged than youth but still well in her prime," said the Fornaxian who had announced the group's entrance, who was standing behind a podium on the side of the stage next to the runway. In response to his statement, a guard guided the green-skinned, three-eyed woman at the opposite end of the line from Gaz down the runway… and to her surprise, he then deactivated the other girl's control collar, the Sondarian nearly collapsing as she suddenly regained autonomy of her body.
"Dance," the guard ordered the woman gruffly as she stumbled to stand back up.
"I, wha?" the Sondarian muttered, croaking through a throat that hadn't been used for speaking in a while.
ZAP
"Ah!" the Sondarian yelled in pain as the guard jammed his shock staff into her side, zapping her.
"Dance for the clients, so they can see how good you look when moving under your own power," the guard growled, as if that had been the obvious meaning of his one-word order. Whimpering, the alien girl nonetheless complied, awkwardly wiggling through some sort of dance, earning harsh laughter and wolf whistles from the audience.
"Ah, now isn't that a pretty sight?" the auctioneer asked with a lusty laugh, "Now then, we'll start the bidding at 500,000 credits."
And so it went, the bidding concluding a few minutes later at 2 million credits, after which the Sondarian's control collar was reactivated and she was marched out, presumably to some holding area until her new owner could collect her. After this, the process continued in much the same way, each girl being marched out, having their bodily control temporarily restored just long enough to humiliate themselves with dancing of varying levels of skill, and then they'd be sold off for what sounded to be ludicrous amounts of alien currency, before being marched off into the shadows of the building.
Far too soon, Gaz was the only one left, and she found herself being marched down the runway, sounds of interest rising from the crowd as she soon stood before them.
"And here we have something quite rare, a member of a species not known to our databases, but still quite the catch, as far as mammals go," the auctioneer proclaimed, while Gaz felt her body unfreeze as the control collar deactivated, catching herself through sheer willpower before she could slump or fall over.
"Go on, you know what to expect by now," the guard behind her grunted, sounding bored.
"Fuck off," Gaz snarled, instinctively crossing her arms over her chest, for all the extra cover she could get from the number of leers being shot her way by the audience.
The blunt statement caused the guard and the auctioneer to blink in surprise, and got several startled laughs out of the audience. However, after a moment the auctioneer snapped out of it and gave an awkward chuckle.
"Well, seems this one still has a bit of spirit that hasn't been broken out of her yet. Don't worry, we'll take that into account for her opening bid," he said, while making a discrete hand gesture to the guard, who nodded in acknowledgement.
"Should have paid attention to what happened to the others," he said with a grunt as he jabbed his staff at Gaz… only to stare in surprise as she sidestepped without looking at him, effortlessly dodging the crackling head of the staff before snapping out an arm to grab ahold of its length.
"I did," she said with a smirk. She then spun on her heels, pulling the staff back to drag the guard towards her. Caught by surprise by this, the guard stumbled forward, and was unable to react when Gaz then lashed out with a kick that saw the sole of her foot smack hard against the guard's knee. Despite the fact that said knee was lightly armored and Gaz's foot was bare, she still managed to deliver more damage than she received, as the force and angle of the blow twisted the guard's knee just far enough out of position to elicit a sudden jolt of pain. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to cry out and let go of his staff as he instinctively repositioned himself to stop himself from falling down. Which was all the opening Gaz needed to spin the staff around so she could properly grip it with both hands, at which point she rammed it into the guard's face.
ZAP
As the guard dropped to the floor, rendered unconscious by the blow, Gaz's attention immediately went to a more important target – the fob that controlled her collar, which the guard had dropped when he'd fallen. Without hesitating, she slammed the staff down on the fob, shattering it. While this unfortunately didn't do anything about the collar still being attached to her, the fact that they wouldn't be able to activate it did at least give her a small amount of relief. Using that to center herself, she straightened up and looked around, taking in the stunned looks of everyone else in the room.
"Who's next?" she asked with a glare.
"G-Guards! Restrain her!" the auctioneer squawked in panic. Several more guards ran in from backstage and charged towards Gaz, who turned to face them, staff at the ready. The nearest guard swung widely towards her, and she casually blocked it with her own staff, parrying it aside in time to duck under a jab from a second guard that tried to take advantage of her distraction. Turning that duck into a roll, she came up in a crouch before either of the guards could react and spun her staff around, sweeping their legs out and sending both tumbling to the floor. And before either could get back up, Gaz zapped the first one with a jab to the chest before spinning around to bring the butt of her staff down square in the middle of the second one's face, knocking him out.
"Grah, hold still, sniza!" the third guard snarled, bringing his staff down in an overhead strike aimed at Gaz's head. However, she dodged at the last second, allowing the blow to instead hit the first guard, zapping him again just as he was recovering from Gaz's attack, this time being knocked out. And before the third guard could even process what had just happened, Gaz jumped up to land on the length of his staff, spring-boarding off it to flip through the air over him, smacking him in the face with the head of her staff, zapping him and knocking him out, leaving him to fall over and hit the floor right after Gaz landed on her feet just past where he collapsed.
Looking around for any other threats, Gaz instead found a very convenient group of targets that she could happily take her stockpiled rage out on. There, huddled at the back of the stage, were Lemer, Kemno, Gronar, and Wrennock… and Gaz's eyes widened in panic as she saw he was holding up another control fob.
"NO!" she screamed, throwing the staff at Wrennock like a javelin, in the desperate hope of managing to hit the fob before he could use it. But it didn't work, and even as Wrennock jumped to the side to avoid the staff, he must have hit the right button on the fob, because Gaz's body went numb again as her control collar reactivated. Left in an awkward position by the throw and now no longer able to hold herself up, she fell over, face smacking hard against the floor.
Spots of light danced in Gaz's vison for a few moments after the impact as she lay there, disoriented and paralyzed. As her head started to clear, she began to make out some aggravatingly-familiar voices coming from uncomfortably nearby; standing over her, maybe?
"…blame me for this? I specifically warned you not to turn her collar off!" Wrennock was saying angrily as Gaz's hearing became coherent again.
"If you knew she was so dangerous, you shouldn't have brought her out with the rest of the pleasure slaves in the first place!" Lemer snapped back at him, "I don't care how aesthetically-pleasing she is, a defiance like that needs to be broken before she can be sold off!"
"Then you would have complained about me not properly meeting my quota!" Wrennock snapped back.
"I don't make the damn protocols!" Lemer growled, "Gah… just get her into a holding cell until we're done salvaging this fiasco!"
Wrennock grumbled something under his breath that was probably derogatory, but didn't press the subject. Instead, Gaz could feel his glare settle on her back as he turned his attention to her.
"Get up," he snarled, and Gaz's body obeyed, stiffly climbing back to her feet and leaving her staring at the wall, unable to even return the glare when Wrennock was standing behind her.
"Start walking," he barked the order, and Gaz started walking out of the room, flanked closely by guards, as if she could actually do anything in her current state. The fact that she couldn't, when she'd gotten so close to escaping, left her stewing in silent rage as she vanished into the depths of the building.
Meanwhile, back in the auction room, the unconscious guards were carried off by their comrades, while the auctioneer nervously looked out at the rest of the room, where most of the clients had taken cover behind their couches during Gaz's rampage and were now nervously coming back out. Seeing this, the auctioneer awkwardly cleared his throat.
"Ah, apologies for all that… unpleasantness, valued customers," he said quickly, "But don't worry, things are now back under control. Please help yourselves to some refreshments while we prepare our next block, a fine set of strong males perfect for asteroid mining or grueling factory work…"
And with that, the auction got back underway. Though as it did, no one noticed the robed figure seated at the rear of the room, who had been half-dozing throughout the pleasure slave sale, only to perk up and pay attention when Gaz had started fighting back. Now, he tuned out the auction as he peered at the door that she had disappeared through.
"Well now, this certainly has potential," he mused with a thoughtful smirk.
Meanwhile, back on Earth
Velinda groaned as she regained consciousness, belatedly realizing she was lying on something cool and hard. Forcing her eyes open, she pushed herself up into a sitting position as her vision cleared and looked around. To her surprise, she was in some kind of containment tube, composed of dark metal and slightly glowing glass. There was barely enough room for her to pace several steps in any direction, and clearly not something she could open from within.
Still better than her cell on the Fornaxians' ship, but not by much.
"What the…? Where am I?" she asked in a small but rapidly growing amount of panic, looking around in confusion, her short-term memory still fuzzy from unconsciousness.
"Finally! It's about time you woke up, I was going to start electrocuting you to get results!" a shrill voice stated sharply, making Velinda jump in surprise and nearly hit the roof of the tube. Turning to face the voice, she was greeted by the sight of an annoyed Zim and a nervous but determined Dib, glaring at her to varying degrees. Seeing them, it all suddenly came back to Velinda, who was struck with the realization that this angry Irken who was holding her prisoner was apparently the mate of the girl she had left high and dry to be captured by the Fornaxians in her place.
"Meep," she gulped out, face paling as she pressed against the back wall of the tube in a desperate attempt to get away from Zim, gibbering incoherently in fear. Seeing this, Dib sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Zim, don't scare her so much that she passes out again, we already lost half the day waiting for her to wake back up," he said, earning a dismissive huff from Zim.
"It is not Zim's fault that she is such a miserable coward," he snapped, before turning his attention back to the trembling Velinda, "Now start talking, and explain why my mate has gone missing and you were in possession of her belongings, or I will-"
"Okay, I'll tell you whatever you want, just don't hurt me!" Velinda practically screamed, cutting Zim off and beginning to ramble, "My name's Velinda of Moraxia, I was abducted by Fornaxian slavers, then I escaped and ended up on this planet and ran into your mate, but then they chased after me and I ran, and they grabbed her instead, and-!"
"You WHAT?!" Zim yelled, eyes practically glowing in rage as he slammed a fist against the tube, causing Velinda to shriek and shrink back as best she could in the confined space.
"Wait, slavers?! There's actually aliens that go around abducting people for slavery?!" Dib exclaimed, looking utterly horrified.
"Why is that a surprise to you? You know perfectly well that plenty of species abduct people, and that my people enslave whole planets," Zim demanded incredulously, surprise at Dib's confusion momentarily distracting him from his fury at Velinda.
"Well, yeah, but I always thought that the general idea of abductions were just weird alien science, and conquering a planet in general seems different from the idea of slavery… wait, why are we discussing this, Gaz is in danger!" Dib started to ramble, only to catch himself and refocus on what really mattered, "Do you know anything about these Fornaxian guys?"
"Ugh, unfortunately. Zim has never met them in person, but has heard more than enough about those filthy lizards," Zim grumbled, eyes narrowing in disgust, "Enslaving a conquered race is natural, and demeaning an imprisoned enemy is a perfectly rational thing. But these stink-reptiles merely buy and sell beings they capture by chance and trickery, and what they do to the females they sell for no other reason than being female to begin with, are things Zim wouldn't have done even to you back when we were sworn enemies."
"Wait, hang on – are you saying that Gaz hasn't just been abducted as a slave, but a sex slave?!" Dib yelled in a mixture of disgust, horror, and fraternal rage, the latter of which was quickly directed towards Velinda, "And you let them take her?!"
"I was terrified! I didn't want that to happen to me! You'd have done the same thing!" she protested in panicked defiance, but winced back at the anger being directed at her in response to those last words.
"Zim actually felt momentary sympathy for you, but the fact that your cowardice has threatened the safety and dignity of my mate invalidates that," Zim sneered, "I should eviscerate you right now, but Dib and his ridiculous human morality would probably protest that despite the circumstances."
"Yeah, I would, because while I'm pissed about her letting Gaz get taken in her place, I'm not going to let you torture or kill her for it," Dib said, his hero complex and sense of ethics managing to squeeze out past his instincts as a big brother.
"Exactly what I knew you'd say," Zim scoffed at him, before turning his attention back to Velinda, "Which is while I'll just settle for making you extremely uncomfortable. Computer, activate protocol G-330!"
"Engaging program," the Computer replied, as several speakers lowered to surround the tube holding the cowering Velinda, before crackling to life.
"I'm gonna sing the Doom Song now!" GIR's voice happily pronounced, "Doom, doom, doom, doo doom, doom…"
"…Is that it? Even I'm not scared of this," Velinda said, looking around in disbelief.
"Let's see if you're still so okay with it when the recording reaches its end point in about sixth months," Zim replied with a smirk, cherishing the shock that bloomed on Velinda's face upon hearing that, before he turned and marched out of the room, Dib right behind him, the door slamming closed behind them and leaving Velinda to her irritating fate
"You made a six-month loop of GIR singing?" Dib asked in disbelief as they walked down the hallway.
"It's not a loop, it's a live recording of our original trip to Earth," Zim explained, with only a slight twitch in his eye at the memory.
"Yeesh," Dib muttered with a grimace, but quickly shrugged it off, "Never mind, it doesn't matter. What does is, what do we need to do to rescue Gaz?"
"Obviously, we need to go to Fornax, find whoever's holding her, then inflict suffering like they've never known upon their pitiful heads!" Zim declared, "Take whatever preparations you feel you might need, Dib-Monkey, then meet me in the hanger bay in an hour!"
Without giving Dib even a second to respond, Zim stomped off in the direction Dib knew led to his primary weapons vault. Deciding that Zim had that aspect of things handled, Dib turned towards the nearest elevator to return to the surface level; he needed to swing by his apartment and pick up some of his equipment that might come in handy.
And while he was at it, he'd have to make a few phone calls and come up with some excuses for why he and Zim would be absent from the company for the foreseeable future. Because despite how straightforward the idea of this rescue mission sounded, he had a very bad feeling wouldn't be that simple…
Fornax, A Short Time Later
Gaz stood in the center of the cell she'd been marched into, active control collar keeping her rooted to the spot, not that she'd be able to go very far anyway even if she could move, given that the cell was barely bigger than a walk-in closet. Worse, it was also pitch black, without even the dim lighting that she'd had back on Wrennock's ship, leaving her not just paralyzed and mute but now blind as well. And on top of everything else, it was freezing in here… though she couldn't help but think that she might just be a bit more comfortable if she were wearing real clothes instead of this goddamn bikini.
"So, it's impractical too, on top of being demeaning," she thought angrily as her otherwise immobilized body shivered, "All the more reason to kill them if… when I get out of here."
At the moment, ruminating on the revenge she'd claim was keeping her warm and distracted from how powerless she was right now. She knew that the odds of her getting out of this situation on her own were pretty low after that failed attempt onstage, but there was no way she going to just give up and accept that. She was going to keep trying to figure out a way to escape until either she could, or Zim tracked her down to rescue her like he was sure he would, or-
Suddenly, the door to the cell slammed open, and Gaz found herself nearly blinded as the dark chamber was suddenly filled with light from the outside hallway. As her vision cleared, she was greeted by the sight of two Fornaxian guards, staves at the ready and glaring at her, a sentiment she was perfectly eager to return their way.
"This way, slave, there's someone who wants to talk to you," one of the guards grunted, causing Gaz confusion even as her body obeyed the command. That hadn't sounded like a sarcastic metaphor for some sort of punishment for her defiance, but who in this hellhole would want to actually talk to her?
Her question was answered a few minutes later when she found herself marched into a room that was roughly the size of her and Zim's kitchen and living room put together. The walls were painted in soothing colors, there was shag carpeting covering the floor, and a table containing multiple plates of weird-looking alien food set in front of a large couch that took up most of the length of one wall. Most importantly, however, was the figure seated on that couch and looking at Gaz. He was about a foot taller than her, with skin a dark shade of scarlet, golden eyes, and shoulder-length hair that was silver in color and with the texture of wires. And completing the "evil space lord" look was the long black cloak he was wearing over a dark suit of some kind.
"Thank you, gentlemen. Now if you'd just turn off her collar, you can go wait outside," the seated alien told the Fornaxians.
"That isn't wise, sir. You saw what she can do," one of the guards commented.
"Yes, which is why I'd like to speak to her, which is much easier when she's actually capable of doing so," the alien said firmly, "Now, deactivate her collar and wait outside, but feel free to listen carefully for any disturbances if you're so concerned about my safety."
"…Yessir," the guard grumbled warily, before Gaz felt feeling return to her body. She nearly sagged, but willed herself to stay standing, refusing to show weakness in front of her captors, or whoever this new jackass was. She thus merely stood there, arms crossed, deliberately paying no attention to the guards behind her as they left the room and silently glaring at her apparent host, daring him to blink first.
To her surprise, he did more than blink. In fact, he unclasped and removed his cloak, bundling it up to toss it at Gaz, who caught it on instinct and blinked in surprise.
"What the?" she blurted in surprise, too confused by the act to stop herself from being the first person to break the silence.
"You look like you need that more than me. You must be freezing in that ludicrous fetish costume of an outfit they forced you into," he replied.
"…Thanks," Gaz muttered, putting the cloak on and pulling it tight; whatever material it was made of, she instantly felt the remaining chill from the holding cell be banished, and allowed herself a small sigh of relief.
"You're quite welcome, Miss…?" the alien replied, looking at her expectantly.
"Gaz," she said, not feeling some stranger she'd just met — especially under these circumstances — deserved to know her full name.
"Well, Miss Gaz, my name is Hrol Klacmek, and I have a proposition for you," the newly identified alien said. Seeing Gaz tense in response to his wording, he snorted, "Oh, nothing as crass as that. I don't know if you've had a chance to learn this since your capture, but the Fornaxians don't just sell pleasure slaves. They provide cheap labor for services of all sorts, with my interest normally being in those sold for combat purposes. You see, I am a team owner in one of the largest gladiatorial rings in this quadrant, and I'm always looking for fresh talent."
"So, you want to buy me so I can fight for your entertainment?" Gaz spat out, "I think I'll pass."
"I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss if I were your position," Hrol replied, seemingly amused at Gaz's defiance, "You don't exactly have better options here."
"Sure I do," Gaz said with a smirk, feeling a lot of her standard confidence return now that she could move and speak again, "I've showed those assholes I'm not going to let myself be sold off to be someone's sex toy; if they try again, I'll fight back just as hard. Sooner or later, they'll realize they're wasting their time and have to let me go. Or I'll just have to wait for my boyfriend to track me down and rescue me — I hate that damsel in distress crap, but I'm willing to let it happen in this case."
"You're assuming you'll last that long," Hrol said with a frown, "You see, Miss Gaz, our dear slaver friends don't just give up on an investment. They spent time and energy on abducting you and bringing you here, so they are not going to stop until they get a profit out of you to compensate for that, not to mention how letting you go would damage their reputation among their competition. And since you are quite attractive by the standards of most species, they still fully intend to sell you for pleasure, rather than swallow their misogyny and consider unloading you for something else; convincing them of why I wanted you took far longer than it should have for that very reason. But regardless of that, I do believe you when you say you'll keep resisting them, but so far, you've only seen their most basic efforts, since they don't want to damage their merchandise. But sooner or later, they'll run out of patience and decide that breaking your will is more important than keeping your body intact."
"I can handle myself," Gaz stated firmly, though she couldn't resist the slight shiver that ran down her spine at the look in Hrol's eyes.
"You still don't get it," Hrol said, "I've never seen it myself, but I've heard the stories. They will beat you, torture you, and probably rape you, until you're within an inch of your life. Then they'll let you heal and recover just enough to do it again without risking killing you. And they'll do this over and over until you're a broken shell that will do whatever it's told. Do you really want to risk the chance of being reduced to that before your lover can save you?"
A slight wince was the only external sign Gaz gave of a reaction to that, even as she felt sick to her stomach at Hrol's words. She was by no means squeamish when it came to violence, but what he'd just described was every woman's worst nightmare. The idea of having her sense of self stripped away by pain, until she was no longer a person, just a thing that only existed for someone else's enjoyment…
Shaking her head, Gaz tightened her grip on her bravado (and, instinctively, also on the cloak covering her) and shot Hrol a dark look.
"And I'll be any better off being part of your fight club?" she asked bitterly.
"Aside from maintaining your bodily autonomy, at least with me you'll have a way out," Hrol explained, immediately catching Gaz's attention, "Or at least, the possibility of one. You see, on my planet, gladiatorial games are our biggest sport, so they come with the greatest rewards for our champions. More specifically, those gladiators who reach the top two ranking spots of each year's regional preliminaries advance to the Championship Games, where they fight for the ultimate prize – a chance at earning their freedom."
"Seriously? You just let them go?" Gaz asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, "That sounds too good to be true."
"How else do you think we incentivize our gladiators to give it their all?" Hrol replied with a shrug, "Agree to fight for me, and be compliant about it, and that opportunity is yours for the taking, if you make it to the top. And if helps, the new season starts next week. With your evident skills, that should be all the time you need to get proper training in, and then the Championship is in a few months. If you're as good as you seem to be, you can be free as soon as then – after making me a lot of money, of course, so it's really a win-win."
"So glad to hear that," Gaz grumbled. Hrol merely arched an eyebrow at her.
"Think of your alternative, Miss Gaz," he said flatly, "I'd hate to leave you to such a fate, but I'm still a businessman first and foremost. I'm not going to waste an investment on a fighter who intends to refuse to go along with the program out of pride or spite, nor am I going to suddenly become a philanthropist and buy you just to free you. Bottom line, this is the best offer you're going to get, take it or leave it."
Gaz glared at Hrol, who practically radiated smug satisfaction at the ultimatum he'd just given her. She really wanted to punch the smirk right off his face… but then she remembered the guards waiting right outside, who had clearly been itching for a chance to come charging back in, reactivate her collar, and drag her back to that cell. Then she'd be stuck in the dark and cold again, with nothing to do but wait for a rescue that would take who knew how long to come, during which time the Fornaxians would have free reign to do whatever they wanted to her, which she now had a vivid mental picture of to dwell on thanks to Hrol's description…
Damn it. She hoped that either Hrol's hold on his slaves was lot laxer, or that being sold to him wouldn't complicate Zim's efforts to find her.
"Fine, you win. I'll take your deal," she spat out, hoping that the unspoken "asshole" at the end of that sentence was made evident by her tone. Though if Hrol noticed the venom in her voice, he didn't show any anger at it, instead smirking wider at her answer.
"Excellent!" he said, standing up, "Now then, I'll have to go finalize purchasing you from our reptilian friends. In the meantime, please enjoy the lounge; I rented it for the rest of the day, so feel free to relax, I'm sure you must be starving and sore after everything you've been through."
With that condescending remark out of the way, Hrol exited the room, Gaz glaring at his back the entire way. Before she could dwell on exactly what kind of devil's bargain she'd just made, however, her stomach loudly rumbled, reminding her that it had been at least half a day since she'd last eaten. So, reluctantly taking Hrol's advice, she turned to the food set on the table, scooping up handfuls of what looked to be blue eggs and purple cheese, as well as a variety of strangely-shaped fruits and nuts, scarfing them all down until her stomach was full. Once that was out of the way, she allowed herself to collapse onto the couch, instinctively sighing in relief at the softness, which only reminded her of how sore her legs were from having been forced to stay on her feet all these hours.
"Guy's a smug prick, but at least there's some upsides from accepting his deal," she muttered to herself as she lay down lengthwise across the couch, putting her legs up to finally relieve her feet, "Still, I'm not looking forward to whatever Roman-style crap he's got set up for me to fight in. Zim, you and Dib better show up soon, I get the feeling I might actually need the help for once."
With that statement, the exhaustion of everything she'd been through today finally caught up with Gaz, and she allowed herself to drift off to sleep. And as she did, she was unaware that her long-term ordeal was just beginning…
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
A/N: And done. Hope Gaz's scenes weren't too rough, but I really wanted to sell how terrible her situation is at this point that she'd be willing to agree to Hrol's offer. Compared to the alternative, being a gladiator isn't so bad.
As for Zim and Dib, I don't know why, but their scenes were tougher to get out. Hope they still came across okay, and if they didn't, I apologize and promise to try and do better as their side of the plot goes forward.
Anyway, that's all for now. See you next time (whenever that is) and until then, please review!