Galactic Standard Date: 152,323.06 AE
Sata’an Empire: near Alliance Neutral Zone
S.R.N. Tsalmaveth
Lieutenant Apausha
Lt. Apausha
“The second shipment is ready for inspection, Your Eminence." Lieutenant Apausha tucked his tail up his right side in the Sata’anic equivalent of ‘attention.'
Apausha was pilot of a cargo vessel in the Sata’an Merchant Marine, a non-military trading vessel, if such a thing existed in Shay’tan’s empire. Drawing a non-military duty in an empire whose entire society was built around war had been a fortuitous luck of the draw on his part, or so he'd thought when he'd first been inducted into the Royal Sata'anic Social Service as every young lizard-person did as soon as he hit puberty. Apausha didn't think it was so fortunate now. Merchant mariners were little more than black market smugglers for the elite members of society who grew fat off the labors of lower-ranking males such as himself.
“Thank you, Lieutenant." Ba'al Zebub rubbed his sausage-thick paws together, causing the fat rolls around his hands to jiggle as a hiss of pleasure escaped his maw. “Thirty females? How were they procured?”
“General Hudhafah made arrangements with some local agents,” Apausha said. “He instructed them to only take a few from each settlement in order to gain the greatest possible genetic diversity.”
Ba'al Zebub inspected the huddled females and snorted in disgust. Apausha had kept them segregated from his crew in order to maintain their modesty, and also to reduce fainting every time one of his crewmen laughed or twitched. This wasn’t the first time he'd transported a living cargo of questionable legality, but that didn't mean he had to mistreat them. Bribery and skimming were time-honored methods of greasing the wheels of progress in the upper echelons of Sata’anic society, and this was skimming or let Shay'tan turn him into an Angelic! Skimming was a practice lower-ranking men such as himself learned to accept and remain silent about lest they find themselves cannon fodder in Shay’tan’s latest war.
“What form of payment did our agents find acceptable?” Ba'al Zebub asked. No doubt he wondered how much this unauthorized little side-venture was going to cost him.
“Believe it or not,” Apausha said. “They wanted to be paid in gold. Sergeant Dahaka said the idiots danced like drunken serpents when he gave them a bag of gold for each female.”
“Gold? The stuff we add to paint to make it sparkle?" Ba'al Zebub gestured to the paint adorning the walls of the cargo hold. Gold was a mineral which was abundant in the Hades cluster, so plentiful that it was cheaper to shield their spacecraft in solid gold rather than a rarer metal such as iron.
“Yes … gold,” Apausha replied.
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” A feral glint came into Ba'al Zebub's eyes. “You and your crew can go down to the nearest planet for a 24-hour shore leave. When you get back, I'll have you transport the cargo directly to the buyer.”
It was an 'honor' Apausha didn't want! His rotation home had been delayed once already. All he wanted to do was go home to his wife and seven soon-to-be hatchlings. But when duty called, lower-ranking males such as himself had no choice but to obey. How would Ba'al Zebub, the highest ranking male in the Empire after only Shay'tan himself, understand his desire to go home to his one wife when the Sata'anic high lord possessed thirty-two? Tucking his tail against his side even tighter, Apausha made the appropriate gesture of respect and thanked their god for the privilege of performing this duty.
"Shay'tan be praised."
Chapter 61
Sword of the Gods: The Chosen One Page 66