Into the Black

Looking at the Princess who was obviously unhappy with what she’d heard, I looked around, and said, “Wait until we’re alone.” She blinked, and then nodded, understanding that spilling details of a private conversation with her sister would be bad for the whole flying under the radar thing.

That said, we were in the shady entertainment and people trafficking section of the station right now. There were a couple bars, sure, but they weren’t that busy at the moment, and none of them had private rooms. On the other hand, there was a slave market just around the corner. In the hustle and bustle of the market, we’d be able to have a discrete conversation.

So, slaves were legal in the Empire, but as we walked through the market, it surprised me on the number of ways slaves could be ‘controlled’. There were four basic types of slave controls:

Tracker Collar: The most basic controller, the Tracker collar identified a wearer as property of their owner. It had a constant GPS signal tracking their position. Trying to disable or remove the collar without the proper codes resulted in an immediate alert going out to the local authorities.

Defiance Collar: Used on ‘less than willing’ slaves who still have some fight in them, the Defiance collar allowed the owner to administer strong electrical shocks to the wearer, from just painful to being enough to immobilize them. Like the Tracker, it had a beacon relaying the slave’s position at all times. Trying to remove a defiance collar without authorization resulted in the collar discharging all its power at once, likely killing the slave, and their would-be rescuer.

Cranial Implant: This nasty piece of work was primarily used for ‘pretty’ slaves, the ones used as sex toys or in the entertainment industry. Placed inside the skull, the implant allowed the owner to inflict pain directly upon the victim’s nervous system when they misbehaved. It also had a function where it could be detonated remotely, with predictable results for the unfortunate slave. The use of cranial implants was supposedly heavily regulated, ever since a high-ranking noble had gone for a medical procedure, and found the doctor had added a ‘gift’ at the request of the noble’s wife (something about her finding video of the nobleman with his mistress).

Stepford: This was the worst of the lot, in my opinion. The Stepford looked and acted like one of the other types, but it had hidden circuitry in it that basically engaged in brainwashing the victim to become the perfect slave, as defined by the owner. Obedience conditioning and personality modifications were common, but not nearly as bad as the option to lock a person’s original personality away, forcing them to be a prisoner in their own body as the collar’s personality acted for them. Worse, this collar used the wearer’s own Psy to power it, reducing their PP regeneration by 1 while it was worn.

As we stepped into the slave market, we were handed a brochure. There was an auction going on tonight, it seemed, and we still had a couple hours to review the ‘merchandise’ before the auction began. Making our way towards the auction floor, which was only sparsely occupied at the moment, we found a couple seats, and then I nodded to Sheila. “What’s wrong?”

She sighed, and said, “My brother has been planning his attack for a long time, it seems. He’s got the support of some of the nobles and business leaders, as well as the higher-ups in the military. He wants to restart the wars, and bring everything into the Empire. My father and older brother both were against that, which is why we’ve had peace these last few years.”

“So it isn’t going to be a cut and dry succession. How many of the higher ups are for your brother?”

“Only a few, but that would be enough to split the fleet if they moved openly.”

“And I assume your sister is working to shore up her position?”

“Yes, Merida currently has support amongst the Imperial Senate, and the loyalist members of the military support her. But they are not the ones in overall command of the fleets.”

“Because the higherups like the idea of war. Let me guess, they probably have ties with the people who make the weapons, right?”

The Princess sighed again, and nodded. “Yes, that is about the shape of it. It looks like there will be a civil war, after all.”

I nodded. That was what I had expected, more or less. The people behind the coup would be killed if they gave up, and the Second Princess, at least, would be ‘silenced’ if she lost, to keep her from instigating rebellion. Those two were locked in. The question, of course, was what to do with my Princess.

Looking over to her, I said, “So, they’re going to be busy making moves. What will you be doing, in the meantime?”

“At this point, my voice doesn’t count for much here in Sol System. The ones who would listen are already behind my sister. If I could get to one of the other fleets, convince the one in charge to come aid my sister, that would go a long way towards cutting the losses. It saddens me, but for this to end, my brother must die, and the rogue Admirals and Nobles put in their place.”

I nodded. She had a good head on her shoulders, at least. “So you’re going to need someone to get you to a fleet base, without getting caught by your brother’s supporters?”

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“Yeah. Could I hire you for the job?”

I considered that for a moment. I’d be sticking my neck out, sure, but the Princess wasn’t that bad, as royals went. Certainly not a diva like some people. “Sure, we can work something out. But I’ll need a full crew before we leave the system. By the time we leave the station, we’re going to need those guns manned, I think.”

Two things cut off the conversation there. First, I got a message on my bracer. One of the people I’d been chatting with on the Sol System player chat had sent me a message, saying that they were currently on Choson Ring, and asking if I was still looking for crew. I sent them a reply to meet me later on, at the bar ‘Dent’ had recommended. I was going to be going there to look for crew and check for jobs, anyways.

Second, more people started coming into the hall. The auction was about to start. Not long after the crowd started gathering, the auctioneer entered. The market knew their audience, and it showed in their choice of auctioneer. She was a pretty human, with long raven hair and curves to die for. She was also dressed in a skinsuit that straddled the line between functional and existing to show off her body.

I ignored the greetings and such to take a look through the brochure I was given. While I probably wouldn’t be buying anyone, after sitting here for so long, we needed to put in some bids or it would draw attention. Most of the slaves, naturally, were pleasure slaves or the like. But I did see some interesting ones in the mix.