Of Mothballs and Monsters
Dec 20, 2017 22:20:07 GMT -5
Post by Kehkhiro (Kiki) on Dec 20, 2017 22:20:07 GMT -5
With a sharp crackle of electricity the cuffs about Khekhiro's wrists deactivated and fell to the floor before their cords withdrew into the wall, pulling the cuffs out of the way. Another day was starting and the heart-weary Churrhehynan rubbed at her wrists as the lights came up. Eyes narrowing in reaction she started warming up her muscles, knowing that every moment before the doors opened were critical to avoiding punishment during her work shift. Muscles made stiff by the poor sleeping conditions of the slave pens gradually warmed and loosened, returning her movements to their normal suppleness.
The doors opened and the gaggle of Churrhehynans filed out, not looking at the lizard-beings who guarded the path. First they passed through the showers, water blasting at them from all angles and washing away the stink and grime from the previous day. Then the dryers, near-scorching air drying fur and flesh. Kehkhiro danced down the path, continuing her warm up exercises in preparation for the coming day. Finally they were given their ration of tasteless food, just enough to maintain their current health but not enough to build new muscle or put on fat - or recover from injuries. After quickly eating her share the dance-slave presented herself, exactly on time, to the scanner which would grant her access to the lifts. There was a low whirr as the computer analyzed her, reading her biometrics, then the lift doors swished open to accept her.
Kehkhiro stepped into the lift, tail limp behind her as she moved to the center and waited. Another swish signaled the closing of the doors and she felt the faint vibration of the lift rising from the slave pens toward the entertainment suites. A deep breath, rancid with the stink of her captors, helped steel her against the unavoidable degradation she would shortly face.
Suddenly everything went topsy-turvy and for a moment - or perhaps longer - Kehkhiro lost all sense of where she was. The next thing she knew she was sprawled on verdant grassy ground, covered in white balls that reeked of some foreign chemical. Shocked by the change in scenery, it took her a moment to recover her sense and scramble to her feet, brushing at the funny white puffs and staring around, bewildered by her new surroundings. Had someone attacked the station and blown it to pieces, with this being her afterlife? It didn't really look like what the priests described - there were none of her lost kin arrayed in wait for her. She also didn't feel dead - her limbs were still sore from sleeping with them secured overhead, and she still had bruises from the prior day's performances. But as far as she knew, there was still no viable teleportation technologies available to either her people or their oppressors. What else could have happened?
Well, one thing was sure: there wasn't a one of her captors in sight. Nor her people. In fact, there wasn't any notable living thing, other than insects and a few avians moving through the low ground cover and flying amidst scattered trees, for as far as she could see - which was rather far, for the land was a roll of gentle hills that gave her decent sightlines in all directions. The air was incredibly fresh, lacking the thickness of oft-recycled air from the stations and ships she had recently lived on, and the light quality was soft, diffused by plentiful water vapor in the atmosphere. There was a vivid yellow sun, warm and bright, and not a cloud to be seen in the blue, blue sky. It was warm enough that she felt no need for protective garments, her fur more than sufficient to maintain a comfortable temperature, and a soft breeze sighed through the scattered trees. Bemused, she began to wend her way to the depression between two hills, hunting for any living being larger than an insect.
The doors opened and the gaggle of Churrhehynans filed out, not looking at the lizard-beings who guarded the path. First they passed through the showers, water blasting at them from all angles and washing away the stink and grime from the previous day. Then the dryers, near-scorching air drying fur and flesh. Kehkhiro danced down the path, continuing her warm up exercises in preparation for the coming day. Finally they were given their ration of tasteless food, just enough to maintain their current health but not enough to build new muscle or put on fat - or recover from injuries. After quickly eating her share the dance-slave presented herself, exactly on time, to the scanner which would grant her access to the lifts. There was a low whirr as the computer analyzed her, reading her biometrics, then the lift doors swished open to accept her.
Kehkhiro stepped into the lift, tail limp behind her as she moved to the center and waited. Another swish signaled the closing of the doors and she felt the faint vibration of the lift rising from the slave pens toward the entertainment suites. A deep breath, rancid with the stink of her captors, helped steel her against the unavoidable degradation she would shortly face.
Suddenly everything went topsy-turvy and for a moment - or perhaps longer - Kehkhiro lost all sense of where she was. The next thing she knew she was sprawled on verdant grassy ground, covered in white balls that reeked of some foreign chemical. Shocked by the change in scenery, it took her a moment to recover her sense and scramble to her feet, brushing at the funny white puffs and staring around, bewildered by her new surroundings. Had someone attacked the station and blown it to pieces, with this being her afterlife? It didn't really look like what the priests described - there were none of her lost kin arrayed in wait for her. She also didn't feel dead - her limbs were still sore from sleeping with them secured overhead, and she still had bruises from the prior day's performances. But as far as she knew, there was still no viable teleportation technologies available to either her people or their oppressors. What else could have happened?
Well, one thing was sure: there wasn't a one of her captors in sight. Nor her people. In fact, there wasn't any notable living thing, other than insects and a few avians moving through the low ground cover and flying amidst scattered trees, for as far as she could see - which was rather far, for the land was a roll of gentle hills that gave her decent sightlines in all directions. The air was incredibly fresh, lacking the thickness of oft-recycled air from the stations and ships she had recently lived on, and the light quality was soft, diffused by plentiful water vapor in the atmosphere. There was a vivid yellow sun, warm and bright, and not a cloud to be seen in the blue, blue sky. It was warm enough that she felt no need for protective garments, her fur more than sufficient to maintain a comfortable temperature, and a soft breeze sighed through the scattered trees. Bemused, she began to wend her way to the depression between two hills, hunting for any living being larger than an insect.
