It was not, at first glance, apparent the furs contained a being at all but the Cholgachi slaver had not plied his trade for so long by being unobservant. Had not his scanners indicated, certainly, his olfactory organs could not have mistaken the presence of the creature. As he’d nearly filled the holding pens of his ship with other sentients from this lot, he knew this particular specimen was not typical of the purveyor’s wares but, instead, some sort of… aberration perhaps? Such peculiarities could fetch a handsome return in certain markets…markets which the Cholgach was well aware of.
Nudging with a clawed hind foot, he inquired of the trembling Krenik merchant, “So, how much is this one worth? Lie to me and I shall have your head for lunch. It is a species…unfamiliar to me. I do not, by long custom, deal in unknown commodities but this thing intrigues me. Speak now, worm, and speak not to me falsely.”
Its tail swishing in an unmistakable sign of agitation, the small furred creature crooned, “This one, Master, is quite unique. It is the only survivor of a hitherto unseen type…it is called a hew-mon, I believe. I, myself, paid…12 credits for it. I could be persuaded to offer it to you at only a modest mark-up of…say…15?”
The Cholgachi chittered with annoyance, “You will give it to me for 10 and not a credit more. Load it with the others.”
Daring not to question the hulking insectoid, the Krenik complied.
This story was written for the weekly Thursday Threads flash fiction challenge prompt phrase: "How much is this one worth?"