A large Ctarl-Ctarl male walked down the sidewalk with a high-spirited stride, he was on top of the world and he wanted the whole world to know. Of coarse he had just lost his life mate, but that was a minor setback. It was kind of like losing an old doll, you keep missing it until you get a better one and soon his new doll would be his. His name was Hojoma Jinjin and nothing alive could ruin his good mood.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hojoma halted; almost nothing could ruin his happiness. Taking a moment to collect himself, Hojoma turned to the street where a black limousine was parked. The back seat window was open and a stead amount of smoke was billowing out. Ctarl-Ctarls have a very sensitive sense of smell and if they are within a block of a smoker it can feel like they are right in their face. To actually stand next t someone while they smoke is like having a hundred cigars blowing in your face. If there was one thing that all Ctarl-Ctarls hate its smoking.

“Get your furry ass in here before someone sees you,” the same crackly voice from earlier yelled from with in the limo. With much despondency, Hojoma walked silently to the limo and got in. He was sitting across from the man with the cigar, his face was hidden in the shadows at the back of the limo, but even with his face obstructed, Hojoma still knew he wasn’t happy. The man he was sitting with operated the slavery racket that Hojoma worked for; if Hojoma answered to anyone, it was this man. They had only known each other for the few months that he and Sara had worked for the slaving business, but in that time one disturbing fact was reveled to him; there had been Ctarl-Ctarls before him. Whoever this man was he had Ctarl-Ctarls in his employment before, where they were now, Hojoma knew not, but he had a feeling that they were drifting somewhere in outer space, dead.

“Sir, I was just coming to see you,” Hojoma lied with a strait face. The last thing he wanted was to get on the bad side of this dangerous man. He knew nothing about him, other then he was in the slave and food market and showed no fear around Ctarl-Ctarls.

“Don’t lie to me Hojoma. I hate liars, you can never trust them.” Hojoma gulped and put on his happy face.

“I’d never lie to you, sir. I have too much…” A loud banging that followed the man hitting the side of the door hard stopped him from finishing.

“There you go again, lying to your filthy hearts content. Tell me the truth or you will be thrown into space without a space suit like my last unruly cats.” Hojoma inhaled sharply, he had suspected his employer of disposing of Ctarl-Ctarls, but hearing him admit it was another thing. Now, he knew for sure that being a good boy was the right thing to do if he wanted to keep breathing.

“I was going to pick up my new life mate.” Hojoma admitted quietly.

“Really.” The man brightened up a little and his ire seemed to decrease.

“In with the new, out with the old?” Hojoma nodded slowly, he did actually smile for real this time. He had never really cared for Sara, she only wanted to be with him because she was lonely and needed protection, while he only needed her so he could have something to put his dick into before going to bed. That was all she was and nothing else, call him cold blooded, but respecting women was never a strong point for Hojoma.

“I suppose I could let you go and offer her a place in our…” He paused then to find the right way to put an organization that sells children as food. Finally, he had it, “business venture.”

“I’m sure she’ll join us sir. She is a Ctarl-Ctarl, I doubt she will abandon her heritage to stick with terrans.” Hojoma sneered the last word. He really hated the race, mostly because of the man before him. He had to beg and scrape every second that he was with him, if this man wasn’t so freaking dangerous, Hojoma would have killed him long ago, but he was and Hojoma had to smile and play nice.

“But if she doesn’t then what? It could be unwise to go into the enemy’s headquarters. ummmm” The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully and blew smoke into Hojoma face. Hojoma kept smiling even as the putrid smoke made his eyes water. Some day this man would die, slowly and preferably painfully.