Joseph strode purposefully into the room, keeping his steps light and swift, as he gracefully carried a silver tray with a soothing cup of green tea. As he walked towards his master, his excellent eyes checked over the work of the other slaves, eying a few of them carefully and silently appraising their work. Bowing respectfully as he approached the human, he placed the tray on the table and began pouring a cup of green tea for Alexi.

The task was boring, so there was plenty of time for him to get lost in thought, as he so often did. He eyed the grand piano in the corner of the room with a smile, remembering when he had performed for the guests just the night before. He'd started learning the piano and the cello about four hundred years ago, but that was a great advantage of such longevity, the ability to learn and hone many new skills. It was a shame that it had come with such a horrible bloodlust, the desire to murder others, and ultimately this servitude. But Joseph Moreau had little to complain about, compared to most creature slaves. He was the head slave of Alexi's household, and was treated with great dignity. His Vandros masters over the years had given allowed him a fair amount of freedom, and for that he was grateful. Captured at the age of 14, he had served the Vandros family faithfully for over six centuries now. He had helped to raise many children, including Alexi, and seen those children grow up, become his superiors, and then pass away, just as the generations before them. Given the atrocities he had once committed, he was fortunate that fate had been so kind to him.

“Is there anything else you require, Master Alexi?” the vampire asked, bowing again and pointing his eyes at his master's chest, never daring to meet the other man's eyes. His early years had taught him proper slave etiquette, and even though he had raised this man, he had not broken from treating his master as a superior since the boy had turned sixteen.

= = =

Erik Schumann prepared twenty of the men and women in his resistance cell, giving out last minute instructions before they headed out to the warehouse where a reliable source had assured him that slaves were being kept for the Auction tomorrow. Looking around at his group, in their mismatched gear and assorted weapons, he felt strangely proud. They were going to liberate a hundred slaves, just with their twenty units. It would be a glorious battle, and a glorious victory over the damned oppression of the humans.

“We've got one chance at this, guys. I want radio silence from the moment we are within a kilometer of the warehouse. Any screw ups and these civvies could be lost real fast. I've got twenty pairs of boots going in there, and I expect all twenty of your boots to to be headed back out. We don't give in, and we don't leave anyone behind. Capiche?” he encouraged. [I]I've never been good at these pep talks[/i], he thought to himself ruefully. 

The rebels arrived long before the lawful officers, or else they would have called the mission off as soon as they had seen the other humans. But they had reached the abandoned warehouse first, and proceeded to surround the building, awaiting the gorram slavers' arrival.

Little did he know, that the trusted Xani cell member had been a slave, forced to infiltrate their group and gain their trust. Little did he know, that he was walking twenty-one people into a trap.