Surrender.

They didn't beat her to avoid damaging the goods. Niome was awoken by the sound of her cage's door opening. Maybe the food was ****, she was typically a light sleeper. The armed guards on their floating platform shot her four times with stun rounds too fast for her to act, or even pretend to act. She was awake now though. The full nervous system overload was just her morning coffee. While her body was paralyzed, she was still conscious, and plotting. Without any hesitation the guards cuffed her, and dragged her limp onto their vehicle. While Niome plotted, she was unaware that what was to come was the most humiliating, and disgusting day she had experienced thus far. She'd seen men turned to bloody mist, and somehow, this was worse. She wished it was as simple as vaporization.

They dragged her through the dark corridors of the warehouse, and she was eventually chained, lifted by her wrists to hang from a pole. Her feet hardly reached the floor. The Twi'lek from earlier didn't bother speaking, or attempting to justify this act. Niome understood how the alien could see people as objects, the gunslinger found a similar line of work, save she dealt in corpses rather than living beings. Under her red coat, a knife was stowed, and with finesse that indicated comfort in the act, she silently, and quickly cut Niome's undergarments free of her person. Nude, and paralyzed, Niome dreaded what she imagined inevitably had to come. The woman was careful, and skilled. She produced a razor, and shaved every inch of the bounty hunter bald. The hot, and humid air was uncomfortable to her bare flesh, and womanhood. Her breasts stood on full display, for all they were worth looking at.

Niome Takan had the build of a runner, lean, and lithe. She was petite, standing only at a mere five feet, and three inches. Her cleavage hardly hung, and in the bare like such, she looked almost girlish. It was humiliating. There was no hourglass figure, only muscle, and sinew. While still womanly, she wasn't at all busty. Once the woman dealt with the huntress' body hair, she began to groom the stuff on her face. Her cheeks were flush with shame, and the redness from the eyebrow plucking hardly showed. Every inch of her save for her head was made hairless. Then, she was shampooed, and scrubbed thoroughly.

Her hair, matted, and disheveled from her desert venture was straightened, and cut just below her chin, parted, and cut again. She was hosed down with water that felt cold compared to the air, and then every crevice, even her most intimate was washed again. Niome Takan was a virgin, and the Rylothian smiled, feeling the barrier. Niome felt only discomfort, made unbearable by the sadism in the statement, "This will fetch a pretty pile of credits." Niome could only fear what such meant. Then the woman left, and she was left to dry. Niome wallowed in the violation, until a few minutes later a droid entered the room.

This one seemed black market, a medical droid perhaps at one point, but it now lacked the typical tooling. Instead it had a photon emitter along with a set of other instruments that she thankfully didn't learn the use of. Niome didn't understand the droid's purpose until it approached her. With a quiet whir, it went to work. A repeated bang of electric current signaled a pulsed laser. The pain was excruciating.

The thing was heedless of her squirming, her maneuvers far too slow to throw off the beams of light. It moved up her legs, manipulator arms pivoting to fully encircle them with each inch by inch pass. Niome attempted to kick it, but was only rewarded with pain from the impact with the thing's metal limb. Smoke flew in small wisps from every pore as the stubble from her earlier shave was erased. The process was slow, and seemed like an eternity to the captured bounty hunter. It eventually removed every trace of hair from her body, leaving her looking far less mature than she was.

The machine inspected its work in detail, cold metal manipulators spreading the crease between her legs for any signs of missed folicals. It found maybe two, and dealt with them swiftly, eliciting a muffled yelp from the bounty hunter. Inspection complete, Niome felt a new searing pain that wasn't temporary. The laser marked her in seconds, placing the emblem of an eclipsed star just a few inches from the top of her slit, left on her pelvis. The droid then seemed to be finished, and Niome was left to hang as it exited the room. She kept her head low, almost certain more was yet to come. She didn't want to show any indeliberate weakness.

She was certain she could get out of this, but she needed to play her cards well. These slavers were proffessionals, and she wouldn't have many chances if she played an opening wrong. She simply hoped, because without her dignity, hope was now all she had.