The timeless being had drifted for days in the void of darkness that was space, aimlessly wandering as he mused and thought of his next actions. He was hardly considered about the A.D.D's efforts to detain him, they had come about as close as he had allowed but they had all still failed. There efforts however were a constant source of amusement and entertainment, but he needed something more. Needed to do something different. Twin red orbs flared to life within the emptiness of space, the only sign of the creatures true location as he found inspiration. To those who had encountered the endlessly cruel shadow it was no secret that he took a great amount of joy in their suffering whether it be physical or mental or both.

Shifting back into the realm of shadow he concentrated for a moment and sent himself hurtling through the dark twisted mirror like realm which was his home. First, he had to get out of A.D.D controlled space and put a bit of distance between them and himself. He didn't want any of them int erupting his newest conquest or delay him from gathering the supplies and things he would need to complete the ruse. Truth being, he could get everything he needed on the fringe colonies. The planet was ultimately unimportant to him for the moment as he'd have to get closer to see what was all available to him. The rougher the better as he didn't want the crimes he was preparing to commit to get beyond any local authorities or bounty hunters and potentially spoil his new guise.

Getting ever closer, the dark being shadowy senses reached out as he finally found his target, the planet Baltur IV. The local authorities were just as corrupt as the slavers that had taken hold of the system and in the wild frontiers of space that counted for quite a bit. Out here he who had the gold truly made the rules...and if anyone questioned them, they also had the guns. The Nightbringers plan was actually quite simple, or at least the beginning would be, after he stole a ship and started "playing" his new role things would probably get a bit more complicated, especially once he started doing business with A.D.D themselves. That wasn't to say he had any particular grudge against them or even cared that they had placed a bounty on his head while forming a task force to try and deal with him. They were just ever changing pieces in his endless game.

---Later---

The well built grey skinned humanoid strode through the market place casually, he had been preparing to leave actually. Having his ship in hand, and false documents, ID's and the such created for him he had little else to actually do here. His outfit was colorful, or at least more colorful than the clothing he could weave from shadows which wasn't saying all that much and really gave him more of the appearance of a wasteland smuggler. He kept his black hair long and wild, as it framed his statuesque face and his empty grey eyes. His shirt was a white button down, half way open partially revealing his nearly perfect physique. Dark green cargo pants, a pair of seemingly well worn, but well fitting steel tipped combat boots upon his feet. On his belt were a number of tools, a knife and pistol though like most material objects Night had cared little for it. The only reason he had even found himself still in the market place was that he had heard from the previous owner of the ship he had "purchased" that a new batch of prisoners had been set to arrive and would be available on the open market for purchase.

At the very least, it warranted a look.

The market on Baltur IV is a massive, chaotic sprawling complex. They are a frontier planet, the the merchants hcok their black market goods with impunity. The stalls of illegal arms dealers sit side-by-side with fruit salesman, meat dealers, jewelry merchants, smugglers, thieves, poachers, counterfeiters of currency and papers. Anything and everything is for sale, just so long as you have the money and can prove that it wouldn't be moe worthwhile for the merchant to just take that money from you. Only the foolish would dare enter the market unarmed, and the clientelle serves as a who's who of the most despicable pirates and brigands in the galaxy.

As one ventures deeper, the stock becomes even more lurid, as one descends into the labyrinth of makeshift warrens that serve as the slave market. Dirty, abused hulks of men stand on the auction block, strung together like livestock, bought and sold in open air auction, and as one proceeds further, the stock becomes more exotic - sex slaves and prostitutes. In the frontier worlds, due process is a foreign term, and the nature of punishment is solely determined by how much worth the local sheriff considers you having. Like poor Tylna, apprehended for simple pickpocketing, the punishment rarely matches the crime. Many of these girls are guilty of little more than looking pretty. The exotic smell of patchoulli and alien incenses doesn't even begin to cover the stench of sex and jizz, many of the girls forced to sell cheap handjobs and blowjobs to pay for their meals and board until their slavers can find a permanent buyer. Hollow eyes stare at NightBringer, girls squeezed into cramped space. They are chained or left in pits, locked a half dozen to makeshift cells, those who linger too long without a buyer packaged together and sold in bulk.

Yet, among the sheer variety of shapes and sizes of the menagerie of girls, Tylna still sticks out. The slaver who bought her from the sheriff recognized this and she stands on prominent display in a corner, showcased like some exotic pet. Her cage hangs from a post, swaying dangerously back and forth with each pace she takes, displayed like a songbird or dangerous and rare creature from the far Orient. Dusk is starting to fall, but she is still striking, perched on a makeshift limb within the cage. Blue eyes stale balefully at the mingling crowd, and even in the darkening light, the nuanced violet sheen of her fur is stunning. Her colorful, bushy tail slicks and snaps angrily, silent and sullen, small white razor teeth flashed at any who dare glance her way. Her tiny, petite form is curled around the branch in deliciously vulnerable counterpoint to the angry swish of her tail, the dangerous flash of fangs. Tufts of cream fur peek haphazardly over the tight metal collar. A bowl of dusty water and a dish of fruit lay untouched on the floor of the cage, the pungently sweet smell of the decomposing fruit lingering around the cage.

The Nightbringer, or as his new paperwork and identity chips would verify Salazar Knight, walked with a manner and confidence that some may have mistaken for arrogance or perhaps oblivious to the dangers within the market. His expression-less face and empty dead grey eyes moved little as he observed his surroundings, not missing a single action or movement that took place within smugglers market. Yet deeper still he travelled, figuring it had come so highly recommend in his last "exchange" that there had to of been more to it than just a typical illegal wares trade. His keen senses smelled the slavers market far before he ever saw it, the pungent mixes smells of alien perfumes, incense, sex and shame. His nose wrinkled slightly in disgust at those combined overpowering smells, though he was forced to guess that this was probably the more popular area and saw a great deal more clients.

Stepping into the Slavers District, he moved with the same stride he had been walking with. Unfazed by those hollow eyes of broken souls staring out at him or by those who may have been appraising his looks and worth as a prospective slave of their own, Knight was much more concerned with his own musings. What was he still doing here? If he wanted a slave he would make one from the willful A.D.D agents that had thought they could hunt him. When in truth it was he that was hunting them and the fools didn't even realize it. Additionally none of these wares mattered to him. What need of he for money? For weapons? For drugs or even for sla...

The entities thoughts were stopped cold.


The freshly acquired prisoners sat in cages, some of them were scared, others defiantly protesting and other still just sat there numb. This merchant in particular seemed to be doing rather well for himself as the number of trained and untrained slaves that he had for sale gave testament to. His eyes however, like the slavery had doubtlessly planned, fell upon the hanging cage and the blue eyed exotic alien within. As Knight saw her she was a mixture of things, petite and adorable, yet feral and sexy. Her appearances and seeming nature intrigued him as he finally stopped moving forward and turned his head off over towards the owner. Turning, he approached the merchant slaver whom owned the young alien woman.

"Tell me about the one in the hanging cage." His voice maintained the illusion of civility, yet underneath his words laid a callous uncaring cold nearly matching his emotionless visage.

The merchant sits in a foldable chair in the corner of the courtyard, a repulsively overweight thing, dull-grayed and scaley. Even with night coming on, the heat of the planet is oppressively hot, and the slaver sprawls exhausted in his seat, head rolled back, wet cloth over his forehead. There is no movement but for the steady movements of his hands, coiled around the ram-like horns of the girl's face buried in his lap, her head shaved. Other than his voice, punctuated by the gagging of the girl in his lap, there is no acknowledgement of noticing Nightbringer, not so much as a lid opened. "Do my wares not speak for themselves?" he derides.

From the cage, Tylna stares at the two, curious, unblinking. Her tail snaps and wraps around her perch, lips peeled back defensively, claws flexing into the surface.

He continues. "They are as they appear. I don't ask for life stories from my product. I don't care about their pasts. And I don't give test drives. This one is in pristine condition. I have left it largely unmolested. It carries no disease, but I have felt no need to properly break it in. I am a salesman, not a trainer. 'Straight off the boat', as they say - to my knowledge, a rare specimen. I can't tell you what exactly - some savage, stupid creature from an unknown backwater. Now. Unless you'd like to talk price would you kindly step the fuck away?" A relieved sigh, his body relaxing against the chair as he presumably gets off, the girl's squirming face held tightly to the hilt.

There was no reaction to the slave merchant's words, no furrowing brow, no slightly sneering lip, nothing to show that Nightbringer had seriously just considered snatching the life right out of the over-weight grey blob of fat and scale. He'd considered it but would have much rather not dealt with planetary authorities, not to mention the other merc's that were hanging around the slave pens and he also realized in his current guise, he was a no one to anyone. He wanted to keep it that way at least for now. With a slight turn of his head to look back towards the young alien woman he spoke again, not missing a beat, "Exactly, price." Night knew the running market value of a great many things, this was to include slaves.

The merchant was right, the girl was rare...much more rare than this merchant may have thought as Night in all his travels and all his conquests had never once seen another of her race. Unique came at a heavy price, as did pristine, the only thing that potentially could have kept her price reasonable for a slave was that she was untrained. Of course, some people would also pay extra for that sort of thing. Thanks to his previous transactions, he had quite a bit of credits on hand and with his ship already completely stocked and ready to go, he had actual little need for most of it.

The only sign the dark skinned man was more than he appeared was how his liquid black hair seemed to slightly shift, moving away from the light as if pushed by an unfelt breeze. Starting low, but not unreasonablily so, "I'll give you 400,000 credits for the one in the cage." The disguised shade had figured even if he couldn't reach an agreement of price with the slaver, he could always just come back later and simply just steal the object of his latest interests. He'd never truly taken or trained a slave before, he'd broken countless females minds before...but training a slave? That was something completely different.

He almost felt giddy at the thought.

((Hah! And here I just assumed he'd shoot the slaver and just take her))

Beady eyes glint greedily at the offer. There's a flash of yellowed teeth, a flick of gray tongue. "We gotta deal Sir, just as long as you got the money to back it up." No haggling, no negotiation. The horned girl is flung away, left gasping for breath on the packed dirt that serves as a floor, and the slaver ushers Night into the makeshift tent that services as his office. He'll push for cash, but will grudgingly accept electronic transaction if it comes to it. Poor Tylna just stares wide-eyed through the cage the whole time, face pressed against the bars. As the two walk back out from the tent, her eyes follow their route tightly, backing up on her perch, hiss between teeth as she sees the heavy key ring jingling from his belt.

"Congratulations, bitch! We just found you a new warm, loving home." She doesn't say a word, hasn't said a word since they caught her actually, best to let them underestimate her, keep them convinced she's an animal. He clicks the key in the lock but she doesn't so much as move, fur bristled, tail puffed and raised defensively. The slaver sneers, reaching out to rattle the cage roughly. Tylna does her best to hold on to the perch but eventually loses her grip. She slips, crashing to her haunches on the floor of the cage. Baleful eyes stare at NightBringer, just daring him to try and take her. The slaver hands Night a chain leash, slaps him on the back with a bemused laugh. "She's all yours now...." Sucker.

((I'd considered doing something of the such, but I figured since Night already murdered the entire crew of the ship he stole and took all their cash and supplies might as well try some amount of restraint. ))

With the money having been traded and the leash of his latest prize well in hand, he had decided that he was done with the market. Turning on heel and his grip on the chain leash quite strong, he simply began to walk off back the way he had came and headed to his ship. He figured the girl could either come with him, or be dragged down the street struggling...at the moment he didn't care and at the moment appearance was everything. Even though the grey skin man appeared to be quite muscular and athletic, his actual strength was far greater as he gave her a commanding yank and had begun to move. He had been waiting for some sort of double deal, where the chain would break or the girl would try to escape...but he was well prepared for it and if pressed would bend the very shadows to his will to ensure there would be no escape for her.

Back at the hanger where his new ship was docked, the shadow puppets he had left in place for security sprung back to life and began to prepare the ship for take off. Mindless servants to their dark masters they obeyed his will without question and would only do as commanded, as such some of the tasks to prepare the ship were beyond them. If anything, it would help cut down on the amount of time he had spent here. Not that it was a total waste, he did have something to keep him occupied while those hunting him chased empty shadows and rumour.

She tried struggling at first, but after one choke from the leash she quickly scampered forward to catch up, little feet moving quickly to keep in step with him, towering nearly two feet above her, forcing her head to tip up to catch furtive, curious glances of his face. Metal hoops bounce from the swell of her breasts, cheap mtal bangles rattling together musically from her wrists, as she hustles to keep with his brisk pace, eyes dancing curiously between him and shamefully at the crowd they must navigate, her tail wrapped around her midriff defensively. The nudity doesn't bother to - it is a thing she is quite comfortable with - but the leash itself is endleslly humiliating.

She skitters up the deck to the ship. At first the surprise from the shadows makes her jump back, but there's a tightening of the leash and quickly she bounds forward, hesitant finger poked forward to touch one of them, eyes darting mutely back to the man with the leash for some sort of response.

The man holding the leash doesn't even seem remotely fazed at the small girl's curiousity as the ships portal snaps shut behind and secures as the walk way retracts back into the ship. Instead he merely just observes her with his empty dead grey eyes, letting her touch the icy cold form of solid shadow as it continues its work unhindered, not even seeming to notice that anything or anyone was near it save the work it was doing. Another of those shadows approached, stepping up to the grey skinned figure silently as if but waiting for his will and word. With a careless motion he offered the obsidian shade the chain as he spoke, "See that she is fed and showed to her quarters." His tone as it had been with the slavery whom he had outright purchased her from was polite, cordial yet there was an unmistakeable steel and venom well hidden behind each and ever uttered syllable. The black shadow simply takes the chain, bowing in respect as the dark grey skinned man turns and leaves through one of the doors, heading to the bridge to get his ship off this mud ball.

The featureless shadow simply stands there for a moment, impossible to tell if it is even watching the collared girl. Then it speaks, or at least something speaks as whispered words circle about the alien girls ear's as if someone is directly behind her and whispering privately only to her. The voice itself sounds like a jumble of different echo's and whispers coalescing together to form a single voice.

"The Master bids you to follow if you wish to eat, then we shall show you to your room. He hopes you understand language...but if not..." Turning the shade fell silent letting its last words hang in the air. Still holding the leash, he gives a small tug as he begins to head to a different door than the one the man had gone through.

A warble, and she jumps back, surprised, at the frigid, incorporeal sensation of the shadow. Fingers are flickered in front of her eyes, attention turned up in brief inquisition to her leash-holder and then back to the shadow, her ears pinned back, tail swishing curiously as her gaze shifts back between the two. She makes no indication of understanding his speech, gaze just snapping back and forth between the voice and the recognition, low growl offered as the shadowman passes off her leash.

But she relaxes some as the leader steps out of sight. Just a toady, this one, and she recognizes that. She falls into a trail behind him, cause given to focus her curiousity. Eyes drift the interior of the ship, curious. She has first hand knowledge crawling through ship ducts and maintaining the engineering, and her clever little mind is already spinning to work, mobilizing a plan, weighing out factors so she will be ready to move on the fly as soon as an opportunity presents itself. But her attention is easily distracted and as the shadow starts talking from all directions, she's immediately drawn to that, twirling in a circle, brow knitted as she tries to find a source for it, and after finally settling that it's just the shadow speaking, she settles her eyes on it, head tilted, unblinking, unackoowledged. She certainly looks like she could use a meal though, pitiful skinny thing. She's barely done more than pick at food since she's been captured, and as it tugs the leash, she scampers to follow.

The shadow's steps barely even seem to touch the ground as it walks, holding the young slave's leash firmly as she scrambles to follow. The mindless puppet cared little if she understood it or not and barely even registered her carefully scanning eyes as she looked about the ship. He knew what the full measure of his task was and was only driven by his Masters dark will to see it through. The shadow did not speak again as they moved into the ships main common area and galley. No other shadows seemed to be present in this room, leaving the two of them alone as he guides the young alien girl by her leash over to the table. The featureless face of the humanoid looking shadow turns to look down at her, staring in silence until another shadow entered into the room. This one carried a tray of food, various fresh fruits, snack meats and cheese's upon it as it is brought over. Stopping far enough out of reach from the young alien girls current position, the tray is sat down upon the floor as the creature of living night turns and leaves.

The one still holding the chain leash, simply continues to look down at her waiting and watching to see what she does. From deeper down inside of the ship, the engines roar to life as the ship begins to ascend vertically into the air, a few things shift and move from the take off. The shadowman holding the leash however, doesn't even so much as wobble at the sudden motion, clutching the leash tightly as his eyeless face remains soley upon the masters slave.

The ship itself was hardly anything special. A standard small freighter transport popular with smugglers and modified much the same, for The Nightbringer it would serve his purposes when he was done enjoying and breaking in his latest purchase. His thoughts drifted as to the best ways to go about doing such, she seemed a bit feral and animalistic which would lend to more...punishment and discplinary type training but there was always a chance she had just been driven that way by those whom had caught her. He wondered exactly how "pristine" she was exactly and for that merchants sake, he'd better of hoped he hadn't lied.

Pulling the ship out of the planetary atmosphere, he brought it to a stable and stationary orbit around the planet. In space there would be no real escape for his slave now as the ship didn't even have escape pods or life raft.

Hesitant eyes flicker up to the shadow, but she takes little time to scoff over the food, circling it on all fours, sniffing curiously. Eyes turned up dour at the shadow. She shoos him to leave as she sinks to a seat on the cold floor, indian style and promptly digs in, the bowl settled in her bare lap, chowing through the food like a little monster, face buried right in the bowl. Her head lifts, curious, morose, as the ship takes off. Whiskers twitch. Well, that makes escape much more difficult. The best she can hope is that he's a kind master, but she hardly suspects he is. She's played the coddled pet before. Her best plan of action may be to play his game, let him get comfortable with her, give her a greater degree of freedom, and make her escape. She flicks the bowl away, everything but the meat devoured in a matter of seconds. Eyes drift obediently back to the shadow in a "Well?" gesture.

Once the alien girl has finished eating and looks up towards the shadow it simply turns and begins to walk once again, moving off into the crew quarters of the ship. The shadowy form keeps the chain held firmly as it glides silently across the floor, before coming to a halt at a closed doorway. The door slides up and into the wall as it opens with a press of a button, leading into what could only be described as the Captains chambers. The lavish setting is a stark contrast to expressionless, solemn man whom had bought her. Expensive trapestries decorate the wall, a large circular bed with silk and satin multi-colored sheets, feathery pillows and other trophies of smuggler pride sit upon shelves and the lone work desk.

Pulling the slack of the chain tight, the shadow walks towards her coiling the chain around its arm and wrist as it draws ever closer. Its dark form looming sinisterly and then there is a single clink of chain falling to the floor as the leash is just simply removed from the collar. Turning on heel and taking the chain the shadow just leaves the room, the door shutting behind it and leaving the girl to her own thoughts.

She quickly scurries to sink into the corner, settling a blank, petulant stare on the shadow creature, waiting until its just stepped out. "Finally!" she sighs, before scampering back to the door, long ears pressed to it, waiting until she can hear the thing walking back away before she sets about the room, combing the whole surface of the quarters excitably. She scampers to the bathroom first, faucet turned on, tongue flicked out to greedily drink up the water, and when she's satisfied, sets about splashing and rubbing water over her face. She doesn't so much as think to turn the spigot off before she's already bouncing back into the bedroom like a ball. Drawers are rummaged, counters ransacked as she rustles the room over. Anything that grabs her attention is snatched up, bundled in her arms: jewelery, toys, pretty cloth. Her first instinct is to tuck them all in the ducts above, but she finds them sealed firmly shut. Eyes wander the room, and, distracted by the bed, she lets her new-found treasures drop to the floor.

She springs forward in a flying leap, bouncing the bed on all fours, healthy round breasts jostling up and down with the rest of her body, tail dancing in delight as she tests the strength and softness of the mattress. It's not quite so comfortable as her old Mistress Captain's water bed but not so easily destructible either (Poor little Tylna, convinced the first time she sprung a leak on the Mistress' bed that she'd killed the poor creature and now it was springing blood), and it's certainly a far cry from the filthy cage she's been occupying for the past couple of weeks. Claws knead in the mattress as, satisfied, she finally flops down in it. Her cheek rubs softly against the downy pillow as her tail curls around the softness of the silk sheets, pulled up to her navel. She rolls over and over, tangling herself in the rich linens until she's tightly bound to her stomach like a mummy. Say what you will about slavery, but for now at least it seems a comfortable respite from the dangerous and dirty life of living meagerly on the street; and while not optimistic, somewhere in the fringes of her mind lingers the twinkle of princess fantasies, that this big, faceless man has come to take her away from her old life on horseback to some glittering and beautiful new world. It's just moments before her eyes are sinking closed, tucked away like a bug in a rug, coiled snugly in thebig, comfortable bed.

At the bridge of the ship, the darkly skinned man had simply been watching his slave from the shadows within the room, he had been watching her nearly since he had handed her off to the shadowy construct that had over taken her care while he saw to the ships take off. He smirked at the girls rather clever deception as he watched her bounce around the room after checking to make sure her guardian had left and began grabbing the previous owners belongings and gathering them as her own. She had even tried to hide them away, and likely find an escape route for later.

It surprised him to see her drop all of her ill-gotten goods, spilling them across the floor as she pounced the onto the large bed, bouncing upon it as her small, rather sexy body swished and jiggled before she rolled about the bed getting comfortable. The Nightbringer had little doubt that the bed was probably far more comfortable than anything she had been sleeping on recently...definitly far more comfortable than that cage. His unblinking eyes continued to watch from the shadows of the room as she drifted off into slumber.

He let her sleep. He was in no real rush and training was as much mental as it was physical. Granted many would have said the idea is to break down a subject mentally and physically completely so that one could build them back up, Night would have disagreed...well not completely. He just had his own plans. Flexing his dark will, he cloaked the ship in a veil of thick shadows rendering invisible to those that might have otherwise intruded upon the dark beings musings.

The alien girl would awake to another bowl of food sitting beside the bed, fruits and cheeses along with a bowl of water and a small saucer of milk. No one was in the room waiting for her, it looked empty and all of the possessions she had gathered previously still lay scattered about the floor though the water had been turned off. The vents still looked sealed shut but nothing had changed.