Morvuuk; a renowned slaver.

The Vishenti woman stands before you, her three yellow-orange eyes glinting with defiance. Her deep violet flesh, bared for all to see, slides over elegant curves of hip and breast. She is tall, as is common for her people, and her long legs are quite enticing. Atop her head, segmented ropes of white keratin hang down, giving her fierce expression a distinctly bestial edge.

You gesture to the auctioneer with one of your four facial tentacles. All of your arms are occupied, one holding your drink, one holding a cigar-a human invention, and two resting on the pistols at your hips. It is always smart to keep two hands on your weapons in this place.

This far out in unclaimed space, the only law was strength. You glance back at the vishenti. She was obviously not suited for the lawless climate she now found herself in. If she was, she wouldn't be a at auction. Her people were famous for being a powerful warriors, and as such they were in high demand as battle thralls in your home space.

You smile behind your tentacles as you think of home. The Rinkuul empire is a mighty in the galaxy, and their many successes in their galactic campaigns have allowed them to accrue amounts of wealth and power. And with wealth and power comes decadence. That's where you come in. When the wealthy elite of Rinkuul demand slaves, you provide. Domestic servants, battle thralls, heavy laborers, pleasure slaves, you provide them all.

Of course, you don't sell them all. Some you keep for yourself. You glance at your bodyguard and personal bedwarmer: