A poking and prodding feeling woke me up.
At first, I was disoriented and confused. The room I was in was unfamiliar. My room back at home was hewn straight from the trunk, with a floor, ceiling, and walls made of the deep brown wood. The walls and the ceiling of this room was a silvery chrome, and the ground was tile.
When I remembered what had happened to me, I sat up straight and hissed. The memories of running, screaming, silver slaver ships, and fire raced through my mind.
I paused for a moment, and hit replay on that particular memory of fire. What had happened back there? Why had I burst into flame, and why was I not burned? Questions filled my mind.
I was brought back to reality by a sharp prod in my side. Turning quickly, while simultaneously jerking myself away, I bared my teeth at the intruder. The chain that had been clamped around my ankles kept me from going very far. I reached for the dagger strapped to my thigh on instinct, and scowled when I only felt bare skin.
A small woman cowered at my fierce glare and threw me a scared look. I softened when I saw her frightened face, but kept my position in defensive.v
The diminutive woman as short, four feet at most. Her dark, nut-brown skin was smooth, and her black glossy eyes watched me. White hair fell to her shoulders in a straight line. Her hair was startlingly bright against her skin.
In her hands, she clutched a bag. Shakily, she said something in a strange language. I gave her a confused look, and she briefly smiled before switching to my native language. "What is your name?"
"Aidan," I answered hesitantly. "Where am I?"
"Auction Site 43," she said. "I need to prepare you for sale. Please, do not resist my efforts, or we both will be punished."
I decided I would let her prepare me, while I tried to get more information from her. There was no way I was going to be sold to the highest bidder like an animal. I needed to formulate an escape plan, and for that I needed to know the layout of the building I was in.
The woman hesitantly approached me. She opened the bag she had clutched in her grip. She pulled out various tools that I did not recognize. One of them was a palate of color made of crushed powder. She pulled out a small brush with short, fine bristles and dipped it into the powder.
Then, she applied the powder to my eyelids. She went back and forth from the crushed powder to my eyelids. I stopped paying attention to her efforts. "So, where exactly is Auction Site 43?" I asked innocently.
"Deep space."
Well, that threw wrench in my escape plan. To get out of deep space, I would need a ship. I have never driven one before, and I don't even have a basic understanding of how to drive one.
Maybe, a Watcher would learn about the auction and come to bust it. Auctioning slaves is illegal in most galaxies, right? It is in my home galaxy, Andromeda, but I have no idea if I'm still in the same galaxy. 
 All I have now is my hope that a Watcher will come and save me.
Watchers are the various beings who police the galaxy. Regular watchers just keep other aliens from trafficking drugs and people, and to hunt down bandits. Ultima Watchers watch over the whole universe, and keep track of the regular Watchers. Ultima Watchers were extremely powerful.
The woman put away the crushed powder and brushes she had been using. She gave me a cursory look and nodded, satisfied. "You need nothing more. Your lips are already a red color, your eyelashes are long, and your skin is smooth and even. I would say you were lucky, but the more beautiful the woman, the harsher her life will be, and you are the most beautiful I have ever seen."
I flinched at her words. Never had I looked in the mirror and considered myself a great beauty, although my clan-mates had insisted I was one. To be beautiful seemed to be more trouble than it was worth. On my home planet, I made you more likely to be noticed and wanted by the men. At an auction site, it seemed I would have a worse life with whomever bought me.
"What about clothing?" I asked as I stood up. I had just noticed my lack of covering. My full, perky breasts stood out proudly from my chest. A slim waist tapered down from there, a smooth, flat stomach following. My hips flared out slightly to gently rounded buttocks, and then on to smooth, slim thighs and calves.
"I am not supposed to dress you."
My forehead crinkled in confusion. "Am I supposed to be viewed naked?"