Seeing the world outside was nothing; the openness, the illustrious sun, the glimmering sand, and the blue hue that stretches across the sky meant nothing. It was all just another mask for a cage. Yiqua could only think along these lines; after all, her whole life she had this collar strapped to her.
Once upon a time she would tug and press on the metal casings that irritated her neck so, but now it was more of an accessory. It is a trademark symbol of the owners, the ones who are rapidly appraising her worth. She witnessed their involvement herself. Disobedience would result in a shock from the collar, aggression would lead to burning, and violence… she remembered violence too well. When she was around seven she watched as one of the starving teens tried to take some meat from the provider. At first, it was fine, but then the provider noticed and stopped them. Starvation won out over logic that day and one of the boys tried clawing out the man’s eyes. The electrical shock threw the teen on the ground before a red light blipped on. After several gasps of those around all heads turned away, just as a bright flash, squelching splat, and a burst of a boom rang out. She was the only one who didn’t turn away, the first to see the head of that boy missing along with that collar.
The memory persisted in her mind, not only from the horror of what she saw but the realization as well. That boy, that unknown and strange boy, had found a way out of the collar. Thinking about it made her tug on the ring hanging under her chin. Freedom from this open prison, the illusion of freedom. The other races who visited their planet always thought of it as a cultural fashion the lower class stand by, but the Vipours have dark secrets they successfully hide in plain sight.
Her race, the Vipours, were bipedal lizards; two legs and arms, a slim reptilian head, and a long powerful tail. Earth’s approximate to her kind would be the common lizard, or if one wished to be specific, Zootoca Vivipara. Of course, this is rather trivial knowledge, one of which she, herself, is unaware and apathetic toward. She only need to know about her species and the differences she must understand.
The largest difference in gender for her kind would be their body frame. Men had large, muscular bodies while the females had slim and deceptively meek structure. Men broad shoulders, females wide hips. Males fat tails, women thin. The only obvious similarity would be their chests, each of them was essentially flat. For raising children on their home-world, Pharah, their kind does not produce milk, instead, they gave their children small insects and bugs to chew and eat. As a result, Vipours had no mammary glands that would resemble human breasts.
Living on a planet made of mostly sand and heat was harsh on everyone who lived there. Taking care of children is the lease of their troubles, but because of the status of Yiqua and her fellow neighbors, they were forced into a more impoverished lifestyle. Being the property of the upper class granted them the social class of Sqrax. These lower classes are separated into different subdivisions: Fellah, Surrogate, and Liquidator.
The Fellah class is the most common and more of the heavy lifters. Menial labor, dangerous tasks, or cannon fodder were the tasks required of the men, women, and children titled as such. All healthy Vipours were naturally strong, flexible, and fast making them perfect for these kinds of errands. Children show rapid muscle growth too and thus were not excused from any labor the adults had to do. Mining, sand shifting, building, or even hunting. They were never left to fend alone, there was always some guard watching over them making sure they behave. Any form of rebellion is immediately squashed by the collar; either by shock and burn or through a fly-infested example.
Liquidators were the pride and joy of the Vipours. The strongest and most skilled Sqrax of them all. When the other races of the galaxy hear about their race those are the lizards they think of. The reputation of the Vipours is shrouded by assassination, espionage, infiltration, sabotage, and other unsavory tasks left to less than ethical professionals. Those whose potential paves in this direction are processed by selection and then forced to participate in a near-fatal test, a race throughout the hazardous world. Few pass this ordeal and those who fail never return from the challenge. The victors are rewarded and given free rein across the galaxy to add to the name of the Vipours. Probably why no one questions the collars is because Liquidators are the face of their people and it is misconstrued as some sort of spiritual ritual, like a pilgrimage. No one wanted to question the Vipours, an unfortunate disregard for Yiqua and the others subjugated into violent submission.
The final class was the Surrogate, the most feared and hated of them all. Everyone pretends this class doesn’t exist, even the upper class themselves. It proved to be an excellent motivator in behavior as well as the best method of being rid of troublemakers. Even though they are lizards they reproduce as any mammal would and desire a stronger generation to live on, but sometimes it is more than reproduction. Some of the higher-ups even came down to choose the best looking Sqrax for their leisure entertainment. Those who become Surrogate have never been seen by their family again.
Yiqua is formally considered a Fellah, the lower class of this lower class, but technically she is disclosed as undefined since she has yet to be appraised. Most children coming of age are observed thoroughly to determine their best fit. She’s snuck out of the appraisal to find some peace instead. She won’t be in too much trouble though, she made sure of that. They will just think she wasn’t called in or something like that. The upper class is practically filled with fools, they only control her and the rest because of these collars.
Fiddling with the device absentmindedly Yiqua blinked up at the sky, letting the blue glow haze the trouble lurking in her mind. This is a meditation she taught herself to endure the day and help lessen the burden of the next. Her fingers curled up and lifted some sand into her palms, letting the warmth soak into the gloves and spread out into her scales. Being exothermic, she needs the sun and sand to keep her warm; on this planet though it can become too hot even for these reptiles. The upper class has a special device that manipulates the surrounding air about their bodies to fluctuate the heat, either by retaining it in or keeping it out. Right now though, Yiqua found it relaxing, she loved the warmth. She shut her eyes and enjoyed the sensation spread across her body. Everything was nearly perfect. If only she didn’t need the clothing.
Just like the other Sqrax, she was wearing attire that covered every inch of her body, no scale could be seen beside that around her eyes. Her lime green scales and light brown irises were the only colors that differed from the black robes adorned to her. The cloth that hid their hideous skin and faces. The lower class didn’t look anything like the upper class; their scales, eyes, body, nearly everything was different. Only the upper class is allowed to reveal their scales. She remembered the history of how the Pressians, some crustation super race, engaged in war with the Vipours just because they saw what the lower class looked like. It hurt, knowing she was so hideous. Just thinking about it made the back of her eyes sting.
Seeing any part of her body made her stomach lurch and her heart burn. She cannot stand the sight of those scales. However, once, just once, she peeled off a glove to pick up some sand. The grainy sensation she felt was ecstatic. It was something new and exciting for her. To do it she had to close her eyes, but it was all worth it. Seeing the sand every day and never knowing anything more than its name left her empty. It may be small, but the small pile that she cupped that day filled a void deep inside. It was a spark of hope in this dark world. Things like that have always helped her move on, live as much as she could to prosper.
Others lacked that vital piece in life. There have been many who used the collars as an escape, a way to regain control. They call it Morkal, the act of freedom through what has controlled us; suicide by collar. Yiqua had a friend who went with it, made it sound blissful. The whole world would lift from their shoulders as they ascended into tranquility. It turned out more like ascendance into smaller pieces.
The young girl released a heavy breath and opened her eyes. Memories like that tend to fly back to her every so often on these meditative breaks. Still, she got some warmth back. Sitting up Yiqua turned her head back toward town. The adobe houses were only one story high with very few Sqrax about. It was midday when everyone is working, only a rare few exceptions ever rested. She happened to be one of those today. Her eyes glanced over the only concrete building in the area. It was about a mile away from the small town, the testing facility. Where she is technically supposed to be at right now. However, she couldn’t pass up this moment. The only times she could lay about were mornings or evenings. The most fun of which were evenings where she would lay down and watch the sunset and the moment it disappeared and got dark she would stand to watch it fade away once more. It was never really warm at those times though, which made this moment, right now, all too special.
Yiqua squinted in the distance, there was a black dot with sand flying up behind it. Shock overcame her as the vehicle became clearer. A hover-jet, the mark of the enforcers plastered to each side undoubtedly. They must have realized she was missing and sent a party to go find her.
With seizing fear she shot down the dune and toward her small town. At the bottom, her boot caught some sand and she fell face-first into the microscopic pellets but refused to let that slow her down. Already the girl was back on her feet, sprinting with her tail weaving behind her. Just in time, the electronic bells began to ring, the indication that enforcers were arriving, and all present Vipours were to immediately stand outside their homes in attention. With a leap she landed on the top step of her home and plastered her arms to her sides, heels clicking together, head-fixed lightly up, and tail wrapped slightly around her left leg.
The vehicle speed into the town and only slowed down to stop in front of her home. Sand flew everywhere coating the whole town in a dust cloud. Unable to keep her composure she keeled over to rub at her eyes and cough out particulates. Luckily she had a layer coating her eyes just in case they did this again, but the air quality is not something she can easily counter. The mask that covered her snout helped sure, but when the air is just dust there is little a substitute filter can do. It was only made to cover her after all. After waving the dust away from her face Yiqua stood at attention again, the last thing she needed was to be in trouble for improper stance again.
The moment the dust was low enough for ten feet of visibility the doors opened and a figure stepped out. It stormed over to her and glared down at her. Whoever it was, they were taller and based on the sheer size probably male. Must be a Liquidator too, based on the collar. The male shook his head and grabbed her by the back of the neck. “Get in!”
Practically thrown off her feet her shins slammed into the lower steps causing her to trip and land on the floor of the craft. Yiqua scrambled to her feet and sat in the far chair in the corner, farthest from the door. The Liquidator got in and slammed the front wall where the pilot undoubtedly sat. The doors slid shut and the whole room darkened to a low red glow.
Ignoring every other seat the man walked over and glared down at Yiqua, unable to look him in the eye she elected to just study out the tinted small crack of a window instead. Undeterred the man crossed his arms and barked, “Why weren’t you at the grounds?”
“Didn’t know today was my day, sir. Found out that I didn’t work today so thought it was my day off.” She lied, still avoiding eye contact, as if he could read her thoughts that way.
The man shook his head again and sat down next to her, “Keep to that story then.” He cracked his head to the side and sighed, “They’re going to be angry, but they won’t do anything. You knew that though.”
She wanted to refute, say that she doesn’t know what he was talking about, but that would be too obvious of a lie. He didn’t say anything incriminating or accusatory so she would only dig a deeper grave. Instead, she shrugged and stayed silent. What else could she say to her father? It is him after all, she would recognize his voice and posture anywhere. Since they could never learn who was who without faces they based it on their voice, tone, vocal mannerisms, posture, and behavior. She didn’t know who her mother was, she disappeared when she was around three. Father doesn’t like to talk about it at all if he was even around. She only got to see him once or twice a year. Most of his time was spent off-planet due to the requirements placed on him.
Growing up was relatively stressful, she relied heavily on friends and their parents to help her. It was the only way she could learn anything. Teaching was left to any adults in town as knowledge wasn’t needed in their field of work. The only things that her father ever taught her was fighting. She got good at it, but ever since that incident with the troubled teen she feared ever using violence in any way. Still, today was different. She would have to show her technique. Hopefully, the stoic method she was trying to apply will help, shut down all emotions, and just go. That should work.
She felt a hard bump hit her in the side, turning to investigate she noted her father nodding toward her foot. Looking down she saw her tail wrapped itself around her left foot tightly. Her father always taught her never to wrap her tail around anything. Clenching her teeth to abate the stress instead she released the leg and allowed blood to circulate there once more. The stinging began when the vehicle slowly came to a stop in the front of the complex.
Her father stood and glancing down at her he nodded. “Good luck.”
She couldn’t even nod back, it took all she had to stand and slowly walk out of the vehicle without shaking. This was the moment, today is when everything will determine the course of her entire life. What master she will serve and how much freedom will be stripped away. A life of servitude. A cage to live in.