'Firefly meets Battlestar Galactica'.
A merchant's daughter is captured and sold into slavery.
A genetically modified survivor of an alien attack scours the galaxy for her taken brother before he is 'disassembled'.
An alien scientist u...
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It was surreal, listening to the silence for hours on end outside the holding room when death seemed so certain the moment the nobles appeared at the door. The taste of blood in her mouth, the haze of rage over her vision. Calliope had come forward to pry her from Lulubelle's arms. Had she growled at the Mistress? Both of them resisted the separation until she whispered in Macbeth's ear.
"Nero is coming. You cannot let him see."
Lulubelle shoved her away, allowing Calliope to enfold Macbeth in her robes, shielding her from view as Nero burst through the gathered guests. She could see nothing through the cloth, but the silence was eerie, the anger palpable. Calliope's muscles tensed against her back.
"What happened here?" Nero's voice was calm but the other nobles didn't answer. "Wife?"
Calliope flinched. Macbeth swallowed, wondering what expression he must be wearing to evince a response from the unflappable Mistress of the house. How many more minutes did she have to live? You saved her, it was worth it. Resolve cooled the frayed ends of her nerves. She stilled.
"These two young nobles we invited into our home have attacked your Erosia." Calliope's tone was soothing, the tone used on a wild animal in hopes it wouldn't attack. "Their actions were halted by a kitchen slave-"
"Where is he?"
He? Did Nero think Julius came to the rescue? What would he do to the man? The dangerous undertone in his voice suggested nothing but violence. Did Calliope mean for him to take the blame while she hid in her skirts? This is not the woman I used to be.
"Here," Macbeth parted the cloth, rising to her feet while the Mistress sighed at her ear.
The room erupted into noise, the nobles clamoring for punishment, for justice, for recompense. So much noise but the four of them were silent. Lulubelle's gaze remained downcast as she shivered, while Nero stared at Macbeth. The expression in his eyes...
"Silence, all of you," Calliope commanded, "This shall be handled by tradition. Any who wish to speak on behalf of the offending party will convene for the Trial of Vice in one trance."
The nobles were cowed by the decision, returning to their feast so their hosts could handle the mess. Calliope set into action, calling for slaves to clean the room. The unconscious nobles were dragged away, and the Erosia was taken to be bathed and cared for. Calliope seized Macbeth by the waist, leading her from the room. Nero had not moved, not once.
"What's going to happen to her?" Macbeth asked her Mistress. If she was going to die, she was done being a slave. She wanted to die as Macbeth Pembrook, who might have been sheltered and bitter but spoke her mind.
Calliope said nothing as they entered the holding room. It was empty of furniture and decoration except for a chain and cuff attached to one wall. The Mistress shut them in, leading her to the chain.
"Do you know why I chose you at the auction?" Calliope snapped the shackle around her wrist. "You were so fresh, innocent and frightened, but there was strength in your eyes. The type of strength a man like my husband could not easily break."
She slipped her fingers under Macbeth's chin, meeting her gaze with glinting violet eyes. "You were meant to distract to him, a new toy to divert his cruel attentions from the rest of us, my chosen sacrifice." A tear slid down her face as her grip shifted, her thumb tracing Macbeth's bottom lip. "How dare you reach so high," she murmured. Her hand dropped limp at her side as she turned to go.
"Am I going to die?" Macbeth asked, surprising herself. How could she maintain any hope for a way out of this fate? The Mistress paused at the door.
"No, I don't think you are," she said, shutting the door, leaving Macbeth cold and confused.
What did she mean? She attacked and injured two Pathosian nobles. Her fellow slaves were executed for trying to escape. How could they not demand her life? Yet, Nero gutted the noble's son who struck her. Would her defense of the Erosia be the argument for sparing her? Or had Calliope merely lengthened her life by a few lonely hours? There was nothing to occupy her thoughts but replaying the scene over and over, wondering if she could have done things different. Would she have?
She saw the expressions in the aftermath, flashing through her thoughts; the nobles who stared at her like a rabid dog to be put down, Calliope's shock, and Lulubelle's distraught tight lipped face. Nero brimmed with hostility until he looked at her.
Macbeth's lips parted, a chill of realization seizing her. The expression on Nero's face, surrounded by screeching nobles and bloody chaos, was pure hunger.
