NU-438 was a planet on the fringe of Human Hegemony space, colloquially known as Nyota. It was colonized nearly a thousand years earlier, when the colony ship assigned to it crash-landed. The near-cutting-edge technology of the ship malfunctioned as the ship entered the atmosphere - and the world's magisphere. Magic was not unheard of to the Hegemony, but this world hadn't been identified as a magic-imbued planet, and it was still a little-understood phenomenon.<br/><br/>As a result, when the ship plummeted into the planet's gravity well aiming for a preselected landing spot on the largest continent, everything that could have gone wrong... did. Instead of landing gracefully and unfolding into a small, well-equipped outpost, the ship cratered, killing nearly 2/3 of the colonists and leaving the remainder without any of the expected resources. It was hard...<br/><br/>But the colonists were chosen because they were survivors, people who thrived on adversity. They scraped out a settlement of their own. And, as humans are known to do, they started expanding, and conquering the hostile world. They learned about the magic of the planet, adapted to it, and thrived. Eventually, over the span of hundreds of years, they conquered the world around them. And the indigenous life, much of which was sentient.<br/><br/>There were dozens of sapient humanoid races, including Catkin, Saurials, Elklings, and Chimaerae. Humanity steadily conquered them all, becoming the dominant species on the planet (even though they have yet to reach the other two continents, only recently rediscovered), and bent the other races to suit their own purposes. Most became slaves; some few managed to convince human authorities that they could serve best as full Citizens.<br/><br/><div align="center">- - - - -</div><br/>Bengal the slavemaster was no ordinary man. In fact, he wasn't a man at all - he was a centaur. He was one of the very few nonhumans who had been granted Citizenship by the Nyota Colonial Authority (NCA). He loved his job, and today was one of the days that he especially enjoyed - a slave auction. Not only would he be selling off his collected menagerie of creatures, both sapient and non, he would be bilking the stupid humans of their hard-earned money. It was good to be in control.<br/><br/>He banged on his desk, and shouted at his minions. "Prepare numbers 12, 27, 33, 45, 50, and 55 for showcase display. They get the satellite stages, and we'll put them up in staggered intervals over the course of the auction to keep the interest high. Everything else will be sold off in numerical order." He looked around at them. "Move."<br/><br/>The assortment of nonhumans that he had working for him scattered. They knew how easily Bengal got angry with the help, and had seen more than once the result of a kick from his steel-shod hooves. They knew the drill, and they knew they only had a few hours to set everything up before the humans started arriving for the auction.<br/><br/>Winger, a pixie who stood a mere three feet high, banged on the cage of number 27, a cage that was barely large enough for its occupant to lay down in. "Come on, Cat-slut. Get your ass up. Today's the day you get traded to a new home. Maybe you'll get lucky, and get someone who actually values you." He prepared to use the painstaff that was issued to him as one of Korvac's handlers in order to get her moving, hoping that it wouldn't be necessary. Catkin reacted unpredictably to pain.