Siena's eyes widened as the docile woman killed herself, without hesitating, then came back to life, reporting on her stabbing like it was a mild headache. Again, the sinking feeling that she did not belong here, but on this platform, and as such Bengal would either be punishing her for not selling or had some trick up his sleeve was building in her again.<br/><br/>Then she started to be bid on. Siena couldn't imagine a person's life being worth a million credits. Couldn't, truth be told, imagine a million credits. She was nigh positive, in her lifetime, that much money hadn't changed hands out of the back of her father's wagon. And it was so casually called for this woman, Revi's, ownership. She bowed her head, trying to calm herself as the woman's price began to spiral upward.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>Silas eyed the young couple with a predatory eagerness. That kind of money, at a place like this, meant a lot of it was ready to be spent - Bengal wasn't the kind of person to take 'Invoice in 60 days' orders. Eventually the bank would shut down the credit chips, but in a black market like this, there was a fair amount you could buy with a dead man's chips before they went cold. And the girl at his side...well, she'd find herself in the market for a very different reason in a week or two. Highborn girls had been known to disappear from time to time, and there was a market for them. More than one rich buyer liked having "one of their own" trussed up and bound in the middle of a dinner table at a party, or bound to a rack, writhing as she made up for every slight ever caused by every pretty little rich girl.<br/><br/>He stepped forward, his plan in mind. A sweeping kick to Marion's feet, and a hand clamped around her throat would be enough to subdue her in place for now. No one was likely to help her here - they'd just as soon buy her. A short thrust with a vibro-knife to the man's kidneys and he should be dear or near to it. Quick, messy and profitable.