"Rest assured, these are genuine Hruk goods. Don't believe me? They've still got soil from Hruk III on them."
Rogue Trader Hatutàn sipped his tea. Beside him, a barely clothed handmaid gesticulated wildly. These xenos really were difficult to communicate with, actually using body language. He had no idea how their long-distance communications worked.
The woman twisted herself with great effort. Movements the many-jointed xenos performed with ease caused her immense pain.
Because their bodies were structured differently, the xenos before him took some time to understand the Rogue Trader's meaning.
Their multiply jointed arms writhed as they drew pieces of "jade" from beneath their skin. They looked smooth and lustrous, snowy white with a faint blue tint.
The Rogue Trader felt somewhat disgusted. These things were essentially xenos kidney stones... if that organ counted as a kidney.
He flicked a finger, and the handmaid stepped forward and knelt on both knees to receive the "jade."
The xenos misunderstood. It immediately swung a sharp limb, spraying a string of blood droplets through the air.
The Rogue Trader looked furious. "She's not merchandise! Damned slave society!"
The handmaid wailed. Blood flooded back into her throat, and her cries gradually became weak and indistinct. She looked pleadingly at the suave Rogue Trader, who was shouting himself red in the face, loudly calling for his guards and another interpreter.
The warship's main cannon began turning overhead. The situation teetered on the brink.
To her sorrow, she discovered that no doctor or medicine was coming. There were only Hatutàn's protests.
His anger was merely an attempt to secure greater profits, not to save her.
In the last moments of her life, she saw the xenos toss something else out. Everything was too blurred to make out. Her enemy's blade sliced open her throat, then