I shifted my feet against the gold floor. The walls were draped with lavish fabric, deep in color and threaded with silver. The display existed only to flaunt wealth, and standing here felt like an honor. Across the galaxies it was common to find reflective and metallic things to be the truest form of prosperity.

           I saw figures with skin that caught the light like smooth marble, polished until it gleamed like metal. There were rumors they were born of rock and lava. Others pushed past them silently, fur so soft it swallowed the sound of their steps and the gold adorning them. Everyone's attention was on the stage. No one's eyes were wandering around. The ones moving walked slowly, each step precise, resonating softly against the golden floor. A few tapped their arms, the faint chime just reaching my ears, a quiet reminder of who they were.

          Of course there were no windows. These people didn’t need stars, they had gold. The galaxy must look boring to them by now. 

          Near the stage, I waited for my cue, watching the others walk on and off. I’d  practiced this before. I knew the steps: walk on, pause, walk off. Simple. Easy. So why wouldn’t my heart shut up? As the stage was clear again I was given the look and as I had practiced I walked into the light ignoring the feeling of my heart pounding against my ribs. Finally I placed my feet on their marks, straightened my back and waited.

          The man beside me, a stranger, had that same gleaming skin. A Condorian, I guessed, from the way light seemed to stick to him. It barely registered what he said but  he was introducing me, I knew that much. My attention was on the crowd. Dozens of strangers' faces, different features from across galaxies. Each one I could name, each species I knew. 

          All except one. She sat among them but she looked… wrong. Wrong in such a way that I couldn’t stop staring. Her skin didn’t shine, like the others. It was pale, and soft-looking. Different. Her face was dusted in glitter and something was woven on top of her head. There was a red glossy fabric on her. Draped in a way I hadn’t seen before. A dress I think. And then there was gold hanging off her arms and neck. A string of pale, glossy spheres joined her neck, their hues shifting as she turned her head.

          Her eyes found mine across the room- and that was the last moment I belonged to myself.She seemed to know it as well as the corner of her lips moved up, “Forty thousand,” 

          “Sixty” A sharp voice called. I tracked the words to a transparent man layered in Andromedan fabrics that met the floor.

          The Condornian looked back at me for a moment before turning back to the crowd. A signal that my turn was going to end. 

Before the beat could sound “Eighty thousand,” The woman said again, her card lifting. The room fell into silence at.  Conversations halting, drinking pausing. No one ever spent so much on this. Not unless they had something to prove.

          The beat sounded and I turned on my heels and walked off the stage. The decision was final. That was it. I wasn’t mine anymore. I was sold for 80 thousand Lux. 

          The crowd never blinked when they put a price tag on anything. Not even someone like me. It was just another day for them. Another day for us.

          I was led out of the glittering rooms, down the plain winding corridors of the station. The air here was still and quiet. None of the warmth or riches following. 

          Massive ships lined the dock, polished to a mirror shine like trophies instead of transport. I was stopped at a smaller vessel. The dark color standing out from the metallic shines. 

          “This is your home now,” my handler said flatly. “You know the rules. Do as you’re told. Don’t make a mess.” I’d heard that enough to understand them. The doors opened and I stepped inside. 

          The grandeur stopped there. The gleam and shine traded for the soft and quiet atmosphere. This wasn’t meant to impress anyone. As I walked through the ship, it was quiet. No one else in it. Plush seating filled the rooms. One space was warm, the other cold, the temperature fluctuating whenever it could. In one of the rooms, a yellow sphere floated, a smaller one,with patterns of green and blue, circled it. I sat there, watching it turn.

          Time passed but I didn’t know how much. The steady hums from the floor or vibrations in the air kept me company as I waited.

          Then I heard it. Footsteps. Light and quick. Then she came into view, muttering under her breath. The red fabriced dress had been swapped with a deep blue that touched the floor.

          “I can’t believe them,” Her words were sharp but I understood them. “Who do they think they are trying to tell me what to do,” She headed straight for the panel on the wall, tossing something with a thud on the table. Her finger fumbled with the latch unable to properly grab it. “Why won't this stupid thing open!” 

          Again and again she tried, getting visibly angrier. It was when she slapped it with her hand that I walked towards her. I wasn’t even thinking when I reached over her, my fingers sticking to the panel and pulling it open. “I do it,” I said in halting English.

          She froze. Breath catching in her throat. I tensed expecting her to direct her anger towards me. Instead she slowly turned to face me, eyes wide as if she didn’t want to see who had opened the panel, “You… talk?” The question came out soft, almost a whisper.

          “Yes,” I stepped back from the panel. Watching her carefully. “Angry?”

          A long moment passed before she shook her head, eyes softening. “No” She said as if trying to convince herself, “ Well annoyed yes, but not angry not at you,” Looking away she pressed the buttons in the panel until the ship hummed to life. 

          For a while she stayed there, hand resting on the latch. Then slowly she turned back towards me having figured out what to say, “So… you can speak. You can work and nobody has a problem with that?” Her words were careful but there was a certain sharpness I wasn’t used to. “Why are you here?”

          I looked at her unsure what she meant. “Why here?” when she nodded I lifted my arms showing her “We do things well. Easy for us,” 

          “You can speak. You can work.” Her voice was barely a murmur, a conversation to herself “So why are you…” She gestured to me vaguely, her voice tightening before growing louder again “Why are you this? You should have a job, you should be-” She cut herself off shaking her head, “Do you… Do you have a name?”

          Why would this matter to her? This doesn’t change anything. “My kind cannot job,” As I spoke my head tilted, “No name,” 

          Her eyes narrowed at me, “Why not,”

          I stepped closer, slow and cautious.“We do things. Good. Fix. Build. Listen. Learn. Speak words-” I tapped my temple so she understood “Any words. When my kind found… we taken. Males sold. Or killed. Not paid. Not seen as… worth. So, no name.”

          “You can speak any word. Like anything anyone says  across the galaxies," She repeated, trying to make sense of the story. I was learning her language fast, getting more confident speaking it, “And they just took you and sold you?” 

          I nodded. I knew it would shock her. She didn’t understand, none of them did. Most species couldn’t even shape the sounds we made. We could. That meant we could overhear them and understand. They hated that most of all.

          “Then you should be ambassadors, or-or something!” She said throwing her hands in the air “They should be the ones paying you. Why don’t you fight back? Why?” 

          The word she used. Ambassadors. Ambassadors. It felt so strange to hear. So ridiculous to even think of. And then they pay us? It just makes my head spin and my chest tight. It was absurd. Pay us? Who would ever care?

          “We cannot,” The words were clearer now as my mind caught up with her language. My hand drifted to my chest, tapping it in a slow rhythm. “Our hearts beat. Make us weak. Easy to… easy to take. To stop.”

          I didn’t notice her hand move until her palm pressed flat against my chest. The weight of it froze me. Her face twisted, anger and pity mingling in a way I couldn’t name. Her expression hardened but her voice came out soft, “I can feel it,” I nodded, but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

          Her hand stayed there for a long moment, her warmth unusual to my skin. Then she took my hand and pressed it to her own chest. I went rigid, unsure what to do. Unsure what to expect. But then I felt it. It was soft at first, but it got clearer by the second. A beat. A heart thudding against her just as mine did.

          “Human’s have one too,” Her voice was still soft and her eyes met mine, “but that never stopped us.”