Between Stars And Chains
@vuhswrites
Riki gazed up at the domed glass ceiling, beyond which the vast blackness of space dotted with twinkling stars seemed to stretch into infinity. He was a decent pilot and had travelled space before while working as a courier for Katze, but the sheer grandeur and opulence of the spaceship they would be spending the night on filled him with a sense of awe that made him stare in open-mouthed wonder at his surroundings. All around them, people rolling in money pushed past each other on their way to the ship's restaurants and gambling salons, and yet the crowds parted obsequiously before Riki's master to let the Blondie and his pet pass. It was as if people could imagine no greater honour than to kiss Iason Mink's ass. He was the head of the Syndicate, after all, and Jupiter's favourite. Not that Riki had much of a choice when it came to kissing Iason's ass, not with the pet ring making him the Blondie's puppet. Still, this did not stop him from putting up a fight whenever Iason's demands collided with his pride.
"Hey, this isn't some tasteless joke, right?" Tugging at Iason's sleeve to get his attention as they crossed the walkway leading from the amusement complex to the passenger quarters, Riki glanced up at the tall Blondie. "You're really taking me along to Jibril?" The prospect of leaving his rigidly structured life behind for a trip off-planet had been enough to make the mongrel eat out of the palm of his master's hand when Iason had dangled such an enticing reward before him.
Riki was dressed in a tight-fitting, sleeveless black tanktop and matching trousers that clung to his hips and legs like a second skin. Even the leash attached to his collar, its end firmly wrapped around Iason's fist, could not dampen his mood. While the small victory he'd won for himself by convincing Iason to let him out of his golden cage and allow him to work on the Black Market again had restored a sense of purpose to his life, a mere one day of illusory freedom per week was hardly enough to satisfy him and Riki had become desperate for a real breath of fresh air.
He sped up his steps to keep up with Iason's long strides. "Is this where we'll be staying?" Riki asked when they stopped before a set of heavy double doors made of dark wood. A discreet plaque of gold identified the rooms beyond as the ambassador's suite. He looked up at Iason again, impatient. Surely a place as ritzy as this would include a well-stocked bar, right? "It's just one night on the ship, you said?"
