JLA Watchtower (Archive)

Ovon Kelt regarded the twin youths chained and prostrate before him with smug satisfaction. The male of the pair was barely conscious, the scent of his branded and bleeding flesh still whafting in the recirculated air of the slave ship's bridge. The female was kneeling satisfactorily, forehead pressed to the grating of the deck in a proper show of humility, though she trembled with rage over the treatment of her brother. Kelt had found out early on that the best way to secure the obedience of the firey-tempered female was to turn his expertise in torture onto the quieter of the pair.

He'd thought at first to keep the pair for himself -- twin royalty made an attractive matched set, and besides, he fancied the girl for uses beyond display. He hadn't counted on what a handful the dark-haired, point-eared Exoran regents would be, however. The one time his crew had foolishly allowed them close enough to touch, it had been disaster. Since then, Kelt had seen to their discipline himself. The boy was not nearly the trouble he had once been, but the female...

Kelt's smirk widened.

"Very nice, Jayna, but I don't think that you mean it. No, my mind is made up. Your brother has been sold to Karres Hing. I wonder...do you think he'll last in the holding pens long enough to even make it into the blood pits?"

Kelt would have said more, but there was a sudden ruckus from the south lift.